Let’s say you’re an alchemist.

One, uncommonly-normal night, you get mind-bendingly, blackout drunk on ergot-tainted barleywine that a pitiable traveler traded to you in exchange for a cuneiform scroll, which you lacked the knowledge to read, anyway.

Stirred on the morrow, with the sun already plummeting towards the horizon, you find your laboratory in perfect condition. All of your equipment has been well cleaned and properly stored. However, you are missing a wide assortment of raw materials.

Most notably?

All of your lead.

Apart from this, the only thing out of the ordinary is a conspicuously-large pile of gold on the floor next to your work bench.

Alone on the hearth, you find a corner from a page in your notebook.

It is singed quite badly.

You’re distraught over the escaped enlightenment, but resolved to cherish the gift.