Alchemic Nostrum: Fantasy

The nostrum sat ready on the counter. The alchemist turned from his glowing forge and looked upon it with a smile. Finally. He had been waiting for this moment for most of his life. He closed his eyes and sent up a prayer to whatever deity would hear it, then picked up the nostrum, poured it into a bowl sitting ready, and picked up the knife from the forge. The potion hissed when he quenched the blade in it. He squinted through the billowing clouds of steam. Would it work? All his prognostications had been silent beyond the necessary beginning of the formula. More primitive alchemists had sworn to turn lead to gold, but he had less...prosaic...aims. He wished to turn life to death and death to life. A blade had seemed most appropriate to this task.




Inspiration: Thesaurus - randomly flipped to 'nostrum'.
Story potential: Low. Too cliched to be of much interest at this point...would require a lot of development.
Finished length: To make interesting, would require long short story or novel.
Notes: Alchemist? Puh-leeze.