Ricardo's phone abruptly vibrates. It seems that he has a new text message. This one was from the infirmary, something about a blood mage detonating his genitals or something. In other words the usual. It was a rather common problem amongst people of that talent. Warpers of the fundamental essences of life. Manipulators of humanity itself. Yet no amount of talent nor skill could help some of them resist the near-insatiable urge to enhance their own junk. It was like an ability-linked addiction really, a remuneration for their powers. In the individuals who do develop it, it does end eventually, but usually in a rather spectacular manner.
Well, guess it's time for the usual prescription.
[100+260] Ricardo summons a bottle of sildenafil citrate. Consulting a few medical records and statistics, he concentrates the dose and enhances the effects, removing the side-effects and ensuring that each dose brings the user's cGMP-specific phosphodiesterase type 5 levels to their minimum safe threshold and keeps blood flow at the maximum healthy limit. He modifies the pill's structure to be impossible to grind into any sort of fine powder and insoluble in water.
Well, assuming this Vornar fellow doesn't take more than one dose, he should be fine.
Should be fine to give it to the student, after all unless curing jet-lag or extending the self-life of cut flowers is all of a sudden, a dangerous thing there isn't much transgressions that may be performed by it.
As per usual, Ricardo carefully labels the bottle.