The Alchemist: Dawn of Destiny

by L. A. Wasielewski

“…Ryris.”

  She took in an awestruck breath. “A name I haven’t heard in a very, very long time. Do you know what it means?”

  Ryris had never given it much thought. Intrigued, he shook his head and shrugged.

  The fortune teller’s eyes lit up. “Every name has an origin, son. Most are common, but some are ancient and mysterious. Yours is one of honor...and magic.”

  He had to stop himself from recoiling at her last word and wondered if she would be offended if he bolted out of the tent flap. “M-magic?”

  “Very much so. There was a great wizard, long ago, who shared your name. An ancestor, perhaps? An extraordinary name from an extraordinary time. A lofty title, and not one most parents would bestow upon their progeny—given the magical connection.”

  It was the first time Ryris had ever heard anyone other than his grandmother mention his ancestors, and certainly not on such specific terms. Whether the old woman was full of beans or not was yet to be determined. A part of him wanted her to be legitimate, to actually be able to tell him something about the family that came long before him. He briefly contemplated asking her to forego the session and just tell him about his history—but he realized that it was a very real possibility she was just making everything up. Before he could decide what to do, she slapped her thighs with an exasperated movement.

  “Enough about that fascinating old name of yours,” she smiled; exposing several missing teeth, before pointing to a ratty pegboard leaned against an oaken chest. “Choose a pouch and let old Zerl have a look at your spirits.”

  Determined to get some fun out of the experience, the young alchemist decided she was just going through the motions of selling her craft with the mention of magic, and brushed it off as nonsense. Ryris set his basket down just inside the tent flap and inched toward the selection. Several dozen small pouches—some leather, some velvet, some burlap—waited to be perused. He reached his hand out, drifting his finger across the bags. It lingered over the smallest of the bunch, the purple velvet soft against his skin. He sensed the old woman’s eyes on him. Plucking the satchel from its bent metal hook, he turned and approached her table.

  “Have a seat, dear.” She tapped a small bowl filled with silver and gold coins. “Ten gamm and I’ll tell you everything you ever wanted to know—and then some.”

  The young man retrieved a handful of money from his pants pocket and set the proper amount into the wooden vessel with a smile. He took a moment to observe the leather mat atop the table. Covered with strange markings and a language he didn’t recognize, he wondered just how she was going to tell his fortune. The mat was divided into sections, each one with a different symbol in the middle. Surrounding each sigil were words and pictograms, faces of angels and demons, images of stars and planets. Ryris was very intrigued.

  “Hold the pouch in your hands and close your fingers around it tightly.” The woman waited for him to comply. “Concentrate on what makes you ‘you’, even if it’s not something nice. Take deep, even breaths and let the thoughts flow.”

  Ryris inhaled through his nose and held it for a moment before letting it out. He scoured his mind. “Think about what makes me ‘me’? Alchemy? Intelligence? Good looks? …magic?”

  The old woman closed her eyes and pressed her gnarled fingertips to her temples. A low hum rumbled from her chest as she swayed in her seat. She began to moan as, Ryris concluded, the spirits entered her. He stifled a snort and tried not to laugh. Biting his lower lip, he prayed she’d be done soon—he didn’t know if he could take much more without bursting into a fit of laughter. He was glad her eyes were closed. After almost a minute, her eyes snapped open and she threw her arms wide with a gasp, startling the young man. “Dump the stones!”

  Doing as he was told, Ryris loosened the cinch on the pouch and emptied the stones onto the tabletop. The malachite pieces, ten in all, rolled in all directions, clattering to a halt around the mat. Ryris leaned closer to get a better look at them. They were all different in size and shape, a symbol etched into the surface of each one, gilded in silver paint to make it stand out.

  Zerl inspected the pieces where they came to a rest, humming to herself as she nodded. It took her a moment of puttering before she began to speak. “You’re from very far away, aren’t you?”

  Ryris decided to test her. “Not really. Dungannon…”

  “Is that so?” She eyed him suspiciously, leaning closer over the table. Ryris could smell her bad breath wafting toward him. “Because the stones never lie, young man.”

  Ryris tried to hide his surprise. Perhaps there was more to this racket than he originally thought.

  She leaned back again with a knowing hum, smoothing down the corners of the mat. “Mmmm…very interesting. You’ve got a good pattern. You see this one? You’re going to be rich.” She pointed at the largest piece, sitting on top of the image of a rising sun.

  “Rich? How rich?” Ryris feigned interest and egged her on.

  “Very.” She tapped a stone resting next to the one that she claimed indicated wealth. “Within the next five years. It doesn’t mean you won’t have to work for it, but it’s definitely coming.”

  She continued to stare at the stones, drumming her fingers on the side of the table. “I see that you’ll have many audiences with the emperor in the coming years. And you’ll also inherit a gem mine!”

  He tried not to laugh. There was no way that tiny stone could tell her something so specific. But, he decided to get his money’s worth and play along—but not without getting a jab in likewise. He made sure his tone of voice was determined and sincere. “Diamond or ruby? Because it makes a difference.”

  The old woman stopped short and looked at him, puzzled. It was obvious she wasn’t expecting such a question. “The stones aren’t clear on that, my dear.”

  Ryris just nodded and waited for her to begin again. After she re-gathered her thoughts, she continued, clicking her tongue sympathetically.

  “Sorry to say lad, but this one…” Her fingertip hovered over an oblong stone. “…is not very friendly today.”

  “Why?”

  “It seems you’ll have a bout of food-borne illness soon. Better stock up on ipecac.”

  The young man tried not to roll his eyes. “You can’t possibly predict that.”

  “I just interpret the spirits, son. What they say is their opinion. But I’d stay away from soft cheeses and uncured meats for a while.”

  “I’ll be careful,” he replied with a thankful smile. He knew she probably meant well—even if she seemed to be spewing nonsensical advice about brie.

  “Ahh, here’s some better news. According to this one,” she pointed to a jagged stone resting just to the side of the image of a ringed planet. “A beautiful wife. Plenty of time to start saving for a nice ring. A couple of years.” She hummed a moment before tapping another piece. “And this one…well then. Do you have a big house?”

  “Not really…why?” Ryris leaned in closer. He didn’t want to admit that he was actually interested in what she had to say about—whatever she saw, fake or not. The things coming out of her mouth were things he never thought anyone would say about him.

  “Eight children.”

  The young alchemist spluttered as he held in his laughter.

  “Don’t laugh, or the universe might give you more as punishment.” Ryris couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. He decided to keep quiet and let her continue. She cleared her throat and spoke once again. “Now, this is interesting. Do you like to be successful?”

  “There are people who don’t?”

  “Your business ventures will pay off handsomely in the future. I can tell you’ve got a good head on your shoulders when it comes to finance, and the stones agree.”

  Ryris was definitely enjoying the session. Who wouldn’t want to hear predictions of wealth, success, and love? He could pass on the multiple children, but he figured two wouldn’t be that bad. He had always secretly wished for a sister growing up.

&
nbsp; Zerl leaned forward to get a good look at a particular stone that had fallen quite close to the edge of the mat. The space in which it lay was more tattered than the rest of the area, and darker in color. An image of a black planet, cratered and foreboding, adorned the upper corner. The old woman’s face contorted and she gasped, her hand snapping up to cover her heart.

  The young alchemist grew concerned. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

  “I knew this day would come, although I hoped it would pass me by.” Her voice was hushed and stern.

  “What do you mean?” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the air temperature inside the stuffy tent suddenly becoming stifling. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

  “Never before has this stone behaved in such a manner, and I’ve been at this a very long time.” She shuddered. Ryris stared at her blankly, not giving her any response whatsoever. Zerl picked up the stone and tossed it onto the floor, as if she couldn’t be rid of it fast enough. She spat in its direction. Her voice became cold and monotone, her gaze boring right through him. “You’re hiding something.”

  “Hiding something? Why would you think that?” He made a conscious effort not to touch his amulet, clenching his fingers to stop himself, his nails biting into the soft flesh of his palm. “I’m not hiding anything.”

  “Yes…it’s deep. Life…as you know it…will come to an end.” She rubbed her temples and whispered a chant in a language Ryris did not recognize.

  The alchemist had suddenly had enough. He didn’t know if he was spooked, or angry that this woman would say such a thing. If she was nothing more than a con artist, then that meant she preyed on the vulnerable. Who knows if she would charge extra to rid her customers of the demons she sensed, or sell them a charm to ward off evil. But, if there was even a shred of truth to what she was saying, and she did sense something from these mystical stones, Ryris wanted no part of it. He wasn’t about to let himself be convinced that some random pieces of rock could tell his future.

  He tried to lighten the mood. “I think I’ll be just fine. But thank you for a glimpse into my future successes.”

  She shook her head sadly. “That’s the problem with you young people. You don’t understand the spirits; you think this is some game…a charade. But they don’t lie, son.”

  “Well, you and I have differing opinions, then.” Ryris stood and extended his hand for her to shake, which she refused to accept. The alchemist awkwardly pulled his hand back.

  “Keep yourself safe. There is dread looming on the horizon.” Zerl visibly trembled, her eyes darting around the tent anxiously. She wrung her bony hands in her lap.

  Ryris hastily ducked out of the tent without saying another word. Moving away, he quickly found himself out of the alley and immediately immersed in the crowd—and fresh air. He took a deep, cleansing breath. People had gathered around a musical group that had taken up residence on the corner. A happy-go-lucky man in a jester’s costume danced and shook a tambourine, all while singing an absurd song about the dangers of cave bears. His accompaniment, two old men playing lutes, swayed to their own music, tapping their feet in time with the singer’s instrument. Ryris lingered for a few moments before moving on; tossing a few coins into the pitcher the musicians had left out for donations.

  It was then that he realized he had left his basket of produce behind. He walked back down the dim alley and stopped dead in his tracks.

  Zerl’s tent was gone.

  Ryris stood there, dumbfounded. He knew it had been there no more than five minutes prior. He could still smell the scent of incense lingering in the air. And yet, there was absolutely no physical trace it had ever been there. He turned around and scanned his surroundings, trying to decide if he had taken a wrong turn.

  And then he spotted it. His basket, still filled with vegetables, rested on the corner, his sparkling ten gamm payment piled on top.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Oinox: A rarely-seen, medium-sized, hoofed mammal living in the northern mountains of the Vrelin Empire. Brown and white striped hide covers a muscular body, the head is adorned with small bovine horns. Glands under the chin are used for territory-marking, and emit musky oil that lingers for weeks.

  --Excerpt from ‘Beasts of the Empire’, by Pernal Frelk, Biology Professor Emeritus, Whitehaven University

  The stench of decay was overpowering.

  Light filtered down from a natural skylight high above in the cavern’s ceiling. It fought for dominance against the swarm of buzzing flies threatening to black it out completely. The carcass of a large mammal lay in a contorted heap on the floor, the decomposition process hard at work. The beast had wandered into the cave in the last moments of its life. Thick, putrefied blood oozed from the severed artery at the animal’s neck, pooling beneath the quickly bloating abdomen. Rotten flesh fell from exposed bones onto the cavern floor, where it was quickly picked up by smaller creatures and carried away to be feasted upon.

  The oinox had obviously been attacked by a very large predator. Huge gashes ran across its back, exposing ribs and muscles in a macabre work of art. Another incision had torn its gut in half, rotting intestines spilling their contents out onto the floor. As tiny maggots crawled within the entrails, the entire body seemed to pulse with movement. The skin of the mighty beast undulated as the bugs moved beneath the flesh, threatening to burst through with every passing second.

  A stiff breeze blew into the mouth of the cave, momentarily scattering the swarm of flying insects before they regrouped and descended once more on the corpse. An iridescent tooth, hanging on by a thin thread of rotting tissue, finally released itself from the animal’s skull and clattered to the floor.

  “Hey, a cave!”

  “Don’t go in there…it smells like somethin’ died.”

  “Scaredy-cat!”

  Rocks crunched just outside the cavern entrance, startling a few brer-rats near the body. One nipped at the piece of meat it had been sniffing and took off toward the other side of the cavern. Another rodent immediately jumped on its back, trying to wrestle the morsel away. When two boys appeared, the small animals scattered to the far reaches of the cave, chittering in irritation at the intruders. The kids paid them no mind; they were far too interested in the sight before their eyes. Even the overwhelming stink of death didn’t deter them.

  “Whoa! An oinox!” The smaller of the two children, just barely ten, approached the carcass. He pinched his nose shut and winced as he darted forward toward the mess.

  “I told you something died. Don’t touch it!” The older boy yanked his brother back by the collar. “Stay here and let me look.”

  The younger child pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. “You always get to have the fun! Why can’t I look too? Those teeth and bones are worth a lot of gamm!”

  “Don’t you think I know that? Stay back there and shut up, or whatever killed this thing might come back.” The teenage boy pointed sternly at his sibling.

  Alix, the younger of the two boys, immediately stopped whining and looked nervously around the cave. Satisfied that he had scared his brother into submission for the time being, Jord moved closer to inspect the bloated body. He gagged at the sight of the maggots infesting the rotting flesh. Picking up a stick near his feet, he poked at the skull, dislodging one of the teeth. It fell onto a pile of others collected just inside the jaw. Jord’s eyes grew large as he realized he and his brother had stumbled upon a small fortune in alchemical ingredients.

  “Hand me your satchel, wouldja?” Jord impatiently shook his open palm back toward his brother.

  “No way! I don’t want that rotten stuff in it!”

  “You can buy a new one with all the money we’re going to make!”

  Contemplating his brother’s proposal for a moment, Alix finally relinquished his pack. He scrunched his nose in disgust as Jord plucked a few teeth from the gums before collecting the remaining ones on the floor.

  The brothers didn’t notice that the brer-rats had begun to be less
scared of them and ever more curious. They approached in a sprawling pack, soft chatter coming from their whiskered mouths. A brave rat scurried ahead and sniffed at the younger boy’s feet.

  “Ummm, Jord? We should get out of here.” Alix kicked at the tiny rat nipping his shoe. It bolted back to its companions, hissing in displeasure at the child. “I don’t think they like us very much.”

  “Just a minute! This last tooth is really stuck in here good.” The older boy was using his thumb and forefinger as a pincer, wrestling with a molar he deep within the recesses of the mouth. He grunted and tugged, finally wrenching the tooth free. He tumbled backwards from the momentum of his actions, scattering the brer-rats once more.

  “Can we go now?” Alix rubbed his hands over his arms. “This cave is giving me the creeps.”

  “You’re the one who wanted come in!” Jord stood and wiped his hands on his pants, the festering goop from the oinox’ mouth congealing on the fabric. “We’re here now, so let’s explore. It goes back further, see?”

  “But it’s dark back there!”

  Jord took a small torch from his pack before slapping Alix playfully on the back of the head. “Quit being a baby. I’m going whether you come with or not.”

  The younger child shuddered at the thought of being left alone. He begrudgingly agreed to join Jord, and went out of his way to step far around the body of the animal his brother had just scavenged.

  The brer-rats crept cautiously back to their feeding place, keeping one eye on the boys as they began to tear at the rotten flesh. Hunger took precedence over danger. One tiny rat gnashed at a tendon, ripping it from the bone it clung to. A chunk of meat came with, a coveted prize for the small mammal. Its fellow rats noticed the hunk of carrion and started to move in on its position, the prime meat tempting them. Growling and biting, they wrestled for dominance—and their meals. There were more brer-rats than remaining meat, and it would soon be gone.

  The small animal growled as a few of its friends tried to give chase. The brer-rat receded into a dark corner, his counterparts having gone back to find their own pieces of carrion. Nestling against the wall, it quickly found itself entangled in dry moss hanging from the rocks. As it moved, the twisted mass coiled tighter around its limbs. The brer-rat used its razor-sharp teeth to chew through the natural rope. But, the harder it tugged, the more tightly entangled its legs became and before long it was hopelessly trapped.