Alchemy Arguments, Domestic Chaos, and the Birth of Wizard Chat
The Flamel mansion had many rules.
Most of them were unspoken.
And all of them were ignored by Lucien within the first week.
Alchemy: The Friendly Battlefield
Lucien and Nicolas Flamel argued.
A lot.
"No, no, no," Nicolas said, waving his hands dramatically. "You can't stabilize that reaction with moon-silver alone!"
Lucien sipped his tea calmly.
"You can if you counterbalance it with phoenix ash. You're thinking too traditionally."
Nicolas stared at the formula.
"…That's illegal in three textbooks."
"Yes," Lucien replied. "And effective in all of them."
They glared at each other.
Then both laughed.
Perenelle watched them fondly.
"It's nice," she said, "having two geniuses in the house."
Nicolas immediately frowned.
"I was already here."
Cooking With Perenelle (And Nicolas Being Jealous)
Some days, Lucien cooked lunch with Perenelle.
Which Nicolas deeply resented.
"Why does he get to help?" Nicolas muttered, arms crossed.
"Because he listens," Perenelle replied sweetly.
Lucien chopped vegetables perfectly.
"Also, I don't burn things."
Nicolas gasped.
"That happened once."
Perenelle laughed.
Nicolas narrowed his eyes at Lucien.
"She spends more time with you than me."
Lucien blinked.
"…Do you want help with that?"
"No," Nicolas snapped. "I want her back."
Perenelle kissed Nicolas on the cheek.
"You're both impossible."
Nicolas relaxed instantly.
Lucien learned something important that day.
Immortality did not protect one from jealousy.
The Idea That Should Have Been Obvious
One evening, Lucien spoke casually over tea.
"I've been thinking," he said, "why don't wizards have a proper way to communicate?"
Nicolas tilted his head.
"Letters?"
Lucien shook his head.
"Instant. Person to person. Unique IDs. Secure."
Nicolas slowly sat up straighter.
"…You mean a chat system."
"Yes," Lucien replied. "A wizard chat book."
Silence.
Then—
"That's brilliant," Nicolas breathed.
Perenelle clapped softly.
"Oh, I love that already."
One Week of Madness
Lucien borrowed alchemy materials.
A lot of them.
The mansion became a controlled disaster.
Runes floated.
Ink rewrote itself.
Pages whispered.
Nicolas hovered nearby, correcting flaws.
"No, the binding rune goes there."
"That encryption charm is sloppy."
"Oh, that's clever—wait, no, it'll explode."
Lucien fixed it.
They tested.
Failure.
Correction.
Success.
After one week—
Lucien held a simple-looking book.
No title.
No decoration.
Inside, names glowed softly.
Each person had a unique magical ID.
Write a name.
Think of the person.
The page connected.
Instantly.
"It works," Nicolas whispered.
Perenelle tested it immediately.
She wrote Lucien.
The page glowed.
A reply appeared.
I'm still in the room.
Perenelle laughed happily.
"That means I can talk to you anytime," she said warmly.
Lucien smiled.
"Yes."
Nicolas squinted at the book.
"…I suppose this is acceptable."
Lucien nodded solemnly.
"High praise."
Quiet Happiness
That night, the three of them sat together.
No debates.
No experiments.
Just tea and quiet conversation.
Perenelle looked content.
Nicolas looked proud.
Lucien felt… peaceful.
Paris suited him.
And for once—
The future felt simple.