The two entered the Captain's house quietly. The first thing John noticed was the smell; it wasn't the scent of wine or the stench of rotting, wet wood. No, it was the smell of something strange—something he simply could not find the words to describe.
He glanced right and left, noticing that the house was cluttered with fishing tools, but his train of thought was interrupted by the Captain's voice: "Will you stand there staring at my belongings forever, or will you come to take the elixir?"
John moved close to him with sharp focus. At that moment, the Captain took John's fish and placed it on the table. He donned thick gloves, held the fish cautiously, and began using his dagger to cut its fins, which looked like pieces of blue glass. He removed them all with care.
The Captain said: "The first step: remove them with extreme caution." He then held one of them and pressed it slightly with his finger, and it shattered. He added: "The moment they are removed, they will break."
John nodded, showing he understood. The anatomy of those fish was truly bizarre, and he thought to himself: Who knows how many strange and wonderful creatures exist in this world? Meanwhile, the Captain took the fins along with a large pot and lit a fire. He placed the pot over the flames until the bottom turned orange, then a glowing red.
The Captain said with a serious tone: "Look closely, boy." He took a small needle and pricked his finger, his face remaining steady as he extended his hand toward the pot. One drop fell... then two... then three.
Three drops of his blood fell. Then, he grabbed the fish's blades and threw them into the pot. A blue light emanated from the vessel; it was a beautiful, soothing deep sky-blue color.
John said: "Okay... what now?" The Captain sat tiredly on a chair and exhaled: "Now we wait until the light disappears, and then the elixir will be ready." He added: "Oh, another thing: to make a full elixir, you only need three blades; to make an 'Extreme,' you need six, and so on."
John nodded, absorbing the Captain's words. He remained staring at the pot, hoping it would finish. In the meantime, the sound of drinking came from behind him; the Captain had grabbed a bottle of wine and was drinking it quickly. John didn't understand the reason for his love for this drink, but it was the least of his concerns.
Suddenly, John's pupils dilated as the light vanished. He said in a cold yet excited tone: "Ah, Captain, the light disappeared."
The Captain stood up while drunk and said: "Ah, what? Oh, great! Now bring me a wine bottle—no, wait, I mean a small bottle." John brought it and said: "Captain, I think you cannot pour it."
The Captain snapped: "Shut up, boy," in a drunken voice as he swayed. He grabbed the pot while John's nerves were on edge. Then, the Captain poured it slowly into the bottle; it was a beautiful blue liquid. John rejoiced, thinking: Finally, the cure.
The Captain smiled drunkenly and said: "See, boy? I can do it." He then ordered him to take his bottle. John extended his hand with longing; he was truly happy because he had not only found a permanent job with high wages, but he had also learned how to make the elixir.
But before John could take it, the Captain dropped the bottle on the ground!
John stared at the floor in shock and said to himself: What? What happened? This is a joke, right? He looked at the Captain, who said: "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."
He laughed drunkenly, unaware of what he had done, and said: "Now go, boy, I have given you the elixir." Then, the Captain fell to the floor, sinking into a deep sleep from his intoxication.
John's eyes turned into a gaze of pure rage. He gritted his teeth hard and said: "After all that humiliation and fatigue, and in the end... this... this drunken old man."
John did not accept the idea of returning empty-handed. He thought of his mother and said: "If I don't bring a cure, I will..." He stared at the Captain's fish, thinking of taking those blades to make a cure, but then he said: "No, no. Each fish has only three blades, and if I take them, he will know. He won't just reject me; maybe he will hurt me, and who knows what he will do to my mother."
John gritted his teeth, knowing that stealing the fish wouldn't work. In a burst of anger, he kicked a large wooden box and muttered: "Damn my luck." Suddenly, the sunlight reflected off the box, and a blue light sparked from it.
John said: "What is this?" in a surprised voice. He approached the box cautiously, not knowing what surprises this drunken old man was hiding. When he opened it, his heart raced and his breathing quickened. He said in a faint, shocked voice: "These... these are ice blades."
The large box was stacked with blades like broken glass. John thought: So you were hiding your fortune here, you greedy old man. He realized the Captain kept them as a backup.
John thought: If I take from these, he won't notice because they are so many. I will deny it; he has no proof, and besides, he is drunk and can't tell the sky from the earth. He grabbed three blades with extreme caution, remembering how they broke in the Captain's hands. He preferred caution over regret.
He held the three blades with ecstasy, and ideas began to play in his head—why not take more as a guarantee? But he retreated, saying: "No, I must not let greed control me." Even as a boy, his life in the streets had taught him a basic rule: Greed leads to the abyss. John put the three blades in his pocket and closed the box tightly. Before leaving, he went to the spot where the first bottle broke. He picked up the broken glass and wiped the spilled elixir so the Captain wouldn't notice. He knew that if the Captain woke up and found John had left without complaining, he would become suspicious.
He decided to erase the evidence, confident that in this man's drunken state, he couldn't even count to ten correctly. He looked at the floor and said: "Okay, the place is cleaned." He looked at the Captain with a gaze of anger and disgust, but also gratitude for the chance to live, and he left without a word, carrying the large fish home.
John walked for a long time as the sun was beginning to rise. It was the time between morning and noon, and people were outside working hard. He reached his medium-sized home and smelled the scent of old wood.
He moved quickly to his mother, whose condition was relatively stable. He went to the fireplace, threw more wood into the light fire, and waited until the small pot turned red.
Recalling the Captain's actions, and having no needle, John bit his finger hard, tearing the skin to force the blood out. But to his surprise, whenever his body tried to bleed, the blood froze like crystals—as if his body was refusing to bleed.
John didn't stop; he scratched his hand violently. Yet, no blood came out; whatever emerged turned into crystals instantly. He felt a raging anger: "What is wrong with my damn blood?!"
He looked at his mother helplessly, then a crazy idea he hated came to mind. He took his sleeping mother's hand cautiously. His heart pounded as he bit her hand lightly—just enough for a prick.
She was too sick to notice, but John felt a deep pain in his heart. Still, he knew necessity justifies the means. Sorry, Mom, I have to, he thought. He took three drops of her blood, placed them in the pot with the blades, and the beautiful blue light appeared.
After ten minutes, the light vanished. John poured the elixir into a bottle with extreme caution and woke his mother: "Mom... Mom, wake up, it's medicine time."
She said tiredly: "J... John, my son, when did you return? You're back early today." John didn't smile; he only said: "Take the treatment." As she drank it, a beautiful light emanated from her body.
John smiled internally and exhaled in relief. The thought of whether his homemade cure would work had been eating at his brain, but then the light grew stronger. His mother opened her eyes with unusual speed and stood up as if she were in her prime.
Her condition had improved by eighty percent; her skin was better, her hair brighter, and the dark circles were gone. John thought: Impossible! Even when I gave her the treatment before, she didn't improve like this. Then he realized: Oh yes, I gave her her own blood. I believe an elixir made from a person's own blood doubles the effect. It was a theory he made up, but it felt like the truth.
He asked: "Mom, how do you feel?" She replied in a quiet, happy voice: "I feel well, in the best condition." She hugged him tightly, tears falling: "My son... thank you... I'm sorry for being a useless mother."
For the first time, John felt a strange warmth—the warmth of motherly love he had been deprived of. He let himself drown in that embrace for a moment. "It's okay for now," he said. "I'm fine, Mom, as long as you are fine