A New Crucible Arrives in the Laboratory
In my years spent deciphering the cryptic texts of Hermes Trismegistus and seeking the Prima Materia, I have handled many strange vessels. I have worked with the alembic to distill the spirits of herbs, the crucible to test the mettle of base elements, and the athanor to maintain the secret fire. But nothing prepared me for the obsidian box that arrived at my laboratory last fortnight, carried by a courier in strange livery. The accompanying scroll described it as one of the finest non-toxic air fryers, a series of words almost entirely devoid of meaning to me.
It is a curious artifact. Black as a moonless night, it possesses a single, cyclopean eye that glows with arcane blue runes when touched. It requires no wood, no coal, not even a candle’s flame. Instead, one must tether it to the wall with a strange, serpent-like cord, through which it seems to draw an unseen energy from the very firmament. The makers of this vessel boast of its purity, claiming it is free from the poisons of “PFAS” and “PFOA.” I know not of these spirits, but I appreciate a clean transmutation. My own work is fraught with the dangers of mercury and arsenic fumes; a ‘non-toxic’ furnace is a concept worthy of the Philosopher’s Stone itself.
Transmuting Base Potato into Golden Crisps
For my first experiment, I chose a humble subject: the potato. A root vegetable of little worth, yet a fine test for any alchemical process. I sliced it into thin wafers, placed them within the vessel’s sliding drawer, and consulted the glowing runes. I commanded it to summon a heat of two hundred degrees for a quarter of an hour—a simple incantation.
A low hum filled my laboratory, followed by the roar of a contained whirlwind. It was not the crackle of fire, but the sound of heated air, moving with impossible speed. A hot gale, trapped within a box. Is this the harnessing of a Sylph, an elemental spirit of the air? Or is there a bound Djinni raging within its obsidian prison? I watched, transfixed. The scroll promised a crisping effect without the use of oil or lard, a claim I found preposterous. Yet, when the vessel chimed, signaling the end of its work, the proof was before me. The pale potato wafers had been transmuted into golden, impossibly crisp morsels. Their essence was fundamentally changed, their exterior hardened to perfection while their heart remained soft and yielding. It was culinary alchemy.
Further Trials and the Question of Its Soul
My investigations continued, yielding ever more baffling results. This wind-furnace is a master of many transmutations, proving itself a worthy, if unsettling, addition to my equipment. My logbook now contains these observations:
- The Chicken Wing: The vessel rendered the fat from the flesh, crisping the skin to a state of perfection that would normally require the full fury of my hearth. The result was succulent, not greasy—a separation of the gross from the subtle.
- The Root Vegetable: Parsnips and carrots, vegetables known for their stubbornness, yielded to the heated gale. Their innate sugars were drawn forth and caramelized, creating a sweetness I did not know they possessed.
- The Resurrection of Stale Bread: Even day-old bread, hard as stone, was returned to a state of warmth and softness when subjected to the whirlwind for but a few moments. A minor miracle of reanimation.
Throughout these trials, my canary, a creature I keep to detect any foul humors in the air, sang cheerfully. The vessel’s promise of being one of the market’s superior non-toxic air fryers appears to be true. It performs its powerful magic without smoke, soot, or any discernible malevolent aura. It is clean. Frighteningly clean.
A Verdict from the Laboratory
So, is it sorcery or science? The device operates on principles that defy my understanding of the Four Elements. It manipulates Air and Fire in a way that feels utterly alien. Yet, its results are not demonic. They are pure, efficient, and surprisingly delicious. It does not corrupt the food; it elevates it. Perhaps this is not the work of a trapped spirit, but a new kind of natural philosophy—a future art where a harnessed whirlwind does the work of a thousand flames. I cannot explain it, but I cannot deny its power. This obsidian vessel has earned its place in my laboratory. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must see how it transmutes a brace of quail.