The Love Potion

When swallowed whole, the inexperienced heart can react in strange ways.

Contest Prompt

"The Writer's Cramp" about an apprentice (in any field of your own choosing) who unwisely attempts to use his master's equipment (spells, machines, arcane relics, etc), loses control, and causes a disaster. What happens?'

The highest art in the alchemy trade is the forming of resolute passions. A love potion is the epitome of such actions and only masters of the trade are honored with its success. “Fools go in where angels fear to tread,” reminded Zanif, master of both spells and incantations.

Yosef turned glittering eyes on the bottled up mixture. This had been the first time he’d been allowed to witness the pure soul wrenching creation his master was best known for. “Cupid himself dips his arrows in my broth,” proudly exclaimed the genius.

He kept Yosef around not because the novice had talent, but because he wanted someone close to call he could brag to. “Do not fool yourself, Yosif, have a mind for keeping to simpler stuff. Tune your studies to mastering such spells and potions offering Calm, Devotion, and Compassion. These are simpler, steadier objects of desire than Love.”

Yosif was tired of making a fool of himself with such pursuits. So far his tinctures only revealed mixed results. HIs Calm spell vibrated with such unease that it made the bats in the master’s cave fly back and forth above his head in ultrasonic shivering waves resulting in thundering headaches. Yosif renamed the spell ‘Vengence’ and sold quite a few to the village’s married hags who felt the need to use it on their lazy husbands.

Emboldened by that, and similarly ill-advised patched up novel successes, Yosif couldn’t wait for Zanif to take his mid day nap. As soon as he heard his master’s snores begin to vibrate the toothy cave crystal stalactites and stalagmites, he knew he had his chance.

“Love will find a way,” he sang softly, striving to remember each step of making the perfect love potion.

“What a lovely thing,” he breathed, dropping a small cloud of unstained hope into the love potion mix. “A sprinkle of passion, a hint of surprise, now add a whiff of yearning wonder.” The air above the love potion vial clouded the mix of emotions together, making tear drops weep into the container down below.

“Perfect!” Yosif thrilled with the sight. Stirring deep in his soul, hidden from thought, was the matter of feeling great pride. It darted, a flash of lightning into the gathering Love Potion storm, adding its own elemental strength to the bellowing mix.

The storm cloud shivered and stirred seeking more fresh air. Yosif gasped, his lungs seeking the same simple relief.

Not only did the bats begin stirring, Zanif did as well. “What awakens me from my well deserved rest?” The anger in his voice echoed along the cave’s sturdy walls.

Too late it was stopped and withered away. The Love cloud found its heart felt moment of release as it sank down Yosif’s throat. “I love you!,” Yosif cried out before drawing in another deep breath. It was swept deep into the young assistant’s healthy lungs. Bubbles of delighted Love Potion swirled and were swept into his veins, tingling throughout his body.

Yosif opened his tightly shut eyes. He’d never felt such an overwhelming feeling of pure love before. It heightened his senses, made him an instant believer he’d found the true meaning of life.

“What are you talking about?” yelled Zanif, scratching a handful of his hair. “Oh, no. Pride goeth before the fall.”

The colony of bats had breathed in the spreading vapor before it escaped into the young assistant’s throat. They were going batty after Yosif. He was going batty right back. His arm swung, knocking over Zanif’s purified Love Potion mixture.

It splattered up between the lips of the master, whose dazed eyes closed. He was awash in instant overwhelming desire.

“By the power of Aphrodite, why haven’t I realized this before?” Zanif was thunderstruck. His eyes clouded with the mystery of love’s embrace.

He opened them to the fevered high pitch scream of Esmerelda, who had come to collect Zanif’s pure Love Potion.

The scream pierced the cave into fevered action as Yosif and the bats made their escape. Zanif stood like a stone, taking in her beauty, his heart beating wildly in his chest. “It is you.”

“Yes, kind sir. I’ve come for the potion you promised. I’ll give anything you require in return.” Esmerelda curtsied with a lowered head. She was anything but a lovely example of her sex. She waited with little patience, finally raising her eyes to meet those of Zanif.

Love glinted brightly through his gaze. “You are the Love Potion?” she asked. “I don’t understand.” Strange feelings began stirring in her breast. She’d never, never in her life felt the attraction of even one suitor. This was better than beguiling one of the young lazy louts in the village. She’d won the love of the master of love. It made her head spin. She fainted.

“Drink this. It will make you feel better,” advised Zanif, gently placing a vial to Esmerelda’s lips.

One sip of the tincture made her drunk with desire. “What have you given me?” She asked, reaching up towards his embrace.

“A touch of humble desire, a pinch of restraint, a nod of compassion, and a touch of love’s own power,”

Love never enters the picture, without fate claiming its opposite as a reward. Sometimes long overdue, more frequently at the first crack in love’s armor, sorrow and regret appear.

“This will never work out,” Esmerelda wept. “I am too ugly, too unlearned in the ways of love.”

Zanif pleaded, cursed, ranted, and raved, unable to convince her otherwise. “I’ll give up everything, leave my cave and all its wishes waiting to be fulfilled. I’ll follow you, worshiping and adoring you wherever we may go.”

Those of us without a Love Potion, who must acquire love in more primitive ways, should beware how powerful the mix of feelings can be when met in the raw. When directed without the addition of lesser feelings like caution, the end result may well be a life long disaster in the making.

Wc 999