The Alchemist: Dawn of Destiny

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The Alchemist: Dawn of Destiny Page 11

by L. A. Wasielewski


  Roann took a bite of the biscuit he snagged from his breakfast table. “Blackthorne? Far cry from Keld, isn’t it? His name sounds familiar, though.”

  “I believe the emperor was being treated with a potion from Bren’s for a time.”

  “That’s probably it.” Roann returned a friendly wave to a pedestrian who had greeted him. “It’ll be nice to have another alchemist in town, the people need some variety.”

  Casmit smiled before checking her file again. “Then, you’re visiting a preschool in the eastern district, where the children are eagerly looking forward to listening to you read a story and do a small art project.

  “Art?” Roann eyed her.

  “Yes, art. Perhaps you can make a gift for the empress.” Casmit quirked a mischievous eyebrow. “And finally, Mr. Mombert and his wife have invited you for tea. I know you wouldn’t normally partake outside of the palace, but they’ve made several generous donations to various Vrelin charities lately, and it would be a gesture of thanks if you were to spend an hour with them.”

  “I’ve heard that Mrs. Mombert makes an incredible chocolate tart. Maybe she’ll indulge me.” Roann smiled devilishly.

  “Your sweet tooth knows no bounds, Your Majesty.”

  “Now you know my dirty little secret—I’m only doing this sovereign thing for the free cake.” Roann winked.

  Soon, the carriage came to a halt, and the prince could hear the muffled din of the street outside. Merchants called out their wares to prospective customers all around him. The door opened and he stepped out, immediately hit by the sweet aroma of flowers. Hundreds of individual blossoms lined a display, lovingly tended to by a short old woman, her wrinkly hands carefully arranging a small bouquet. She turned just in time to see Roann exit his carriage. Bowing, the old woman covertly wiped the dirt from the flowers on the hem of her dress. As she rose from her gesture, the prince extended his hand to her.

  “Your Majesty, what an honor!” She blushed as he kissed her gnarled hand.

  “The honor is mine. Your flowers are stunning.” He inhaled deeply. “And they smell divine.”

  “Please allow me to make an arrangement for the Empress. It will take but a moment.”

  “I think she’d love some flowers, thank you. I’m going to visit the shop across the street for a while, so you have plenty of time.” Roann smiled in thanks, then lowered his voice to a whisper, bending to speak into her ear and offer a friendly hint. “She loves roses. Yellow ones.”

  The old woman smiled and nodded in understanding.

  Casmit motioned for him to round the carriage. “Right this way, Sire.”

  People gathered on the sidewalks, all clamoring to get a glimpse of their prince. Some waved, others whistled, and they all smiled broadly. Everyone loved Prince Roann, and it showed. He waved back, and called out a general greeting to his people before approaching the wooden door to Bren’s. Roann took a moment to admire the colorful bottles and hand-made sign in the front window. The wood was carved with the words, Bren’s Alchemy. Ryris Bren, Proprietor. He wondered if it had been a gift from home, since a larger and more colorful sign hung above his head. Putting a hand over his eyes to assist in seeing into the store, he could just make out a figure perched precariously on a ladder, feverishly searching for something on a high-up shelf. Content with his window shopping, he allowed Casmit to push the door open, causing a bell to tinkle.

  The shop smelled like incense. Roann was immediately hit with the strong scent, so much so that he recoiled slightly. Not wanting to offend the newest shop-keep in Keld, he stifled a sneeze and moved further into the store, his eyes beginning to water. Glass bottles glittered in the sunlight and books lined the shelf in the far corner, already collecting a small film of dust. A row of vases, each containing bouquets of dried herbs and flowers, sat on a low table, hand-made labels adorning the glass. An alembic bubbled behind the counter, small droplets dripping out from the mouth of the apparatus and into a beaker. A green liquid churned within as the flame underneath flickered. Next to it on the countertop sat a tattered journal, well-loved by its owner. The entire shop had such a cozy feel to it, one would have thought it had been here for years.

  Roann tried to ignore that he was feeling ever increasingly “off”, something not quite right. His skin crawled and he felt as if the walls were closing in on him. A foreboding sense crept through his mind. But, he wasn’t about to let some strange feeling sully his visit with his newest merchant, so he pressed on.

  “I’ll be right with you!” The young man on the ladder had his head recessed back into a shelf, moving bottles and jars out of the way. He mumbled in irritation as he shoved a box to the side, momentarily losing his balance. Catching himself on the shelf, he swore under his breath and continued to dig for whatever he was looking for.

  The prince stood patiently, knowing the alchemist had no idea he was making royalty wait. Roann didn’t mind too much, even though his stomach was beginning to tumble. He took a calming breath and the nausea subsided. Perhaps the ham he ate with his breakfast wasn’t agreeing with him. Turning to look around the shop, he admired a display case filled with ramekins of shimmering dust, each one a different vibrant hue. Hearing scraping to his side, Roann turned back to see the alchemist descending the ladder, a metal box in his hand.

  “That thing was really hidden. I almost had to crawl onto the sh—“ Ryris turned, the metal box falling from his hands as he faced his customer. His mouth hung open in shock, his eyes wide. “Your Highness! I didn’t …I’m so sorry I made you wait, I feel like a buffoon.”

  Roann smiled warmly, despite his growing uneasy stomach. “Nonsense. I was just admiring these plates of colorful dust. What are they used for?”

  Quickly bending down to pick up his fallen cargo, Ryris set it on the countertop before making his way toward the prince. Fishing a ring of keys from his pocket, they jingled as he unlocked the display cabinet. He reached in and removed one of the dishes. “This is monk’s dust. It’s mainly used in pain relief potions; each color has a different potency. It’s harvested from the bottom of prairie ponds as sludge, then dried in the sun.” The alchemist pinched a small amount of the substance between his thumb and forefinger and sprinkled it into the air, the glittering grains catching the light of the sun as they fell to the floor.

  “I’ve always found alchemy to be fascinating.” Roann extended his hand for the young man to shake. “Forgive me for not introducing myself properly. I am Prince Roann Vrelin.”

  The alchemist hurriedly put the dish back, neglecting to lock the cabinet again. He firmly gripped Roann’s outstretched hand, an excited smile consuming his face.

  “Ryris Bren. It’s an honor to finally meet you, Your Majesty. I’m humbled that you would visit my shop.”

  Roann barely heard a word the man was saying. A violent shockwave of nausea flashed over him as soon as he made contact with Ryris’ skin. Never in his life had he felt such negative energy. He felt as if he might faint. Steadying himself, he struggled to remain standing and willed himself not to vomit. It was apparent that Ryris noticed something was amiss, because he immediately ended the handshake and grabbed the prince by the bicep to steady him.

  “Are you alright? Do you need to sit down?”

  The room spun around Roann, Ryris’ voice muffled and distant. His assistant ran to his side and grabbed his other arm. They both eased the prince onto a crate in the corner.

  “Your Highness, what’s the matter?” Casmit’s voice was laced with panic, her face flushing with anxiety. She snapped her fingers in front of his non-focusing eyes. “Can you hear me?”

  Roann’s head began to de-clutter as soon as Ryris released his grasp. The room stopped moving and his vision cleared. His stomach still churned, however, and he thought at any moment he might lose his breakfast. Dismissively waving a hand in front of himself, he tried to get his assistant to relinquish her hold.

  “I’m better now Casmit, you can let go.” His voice was wispy as h
e attempted to get his bearings, taking slow deep breaths.

  “Your Majesty, what happened?”

  The prince turned toward the voice, meeting the concerned face of the newest alchemist in Keld. The young man knelt next to the chair, tapping his fingers nervously on the display shelves at his side.

  “I’m not sure. A sudden wave of…I don’t know.” Roann tried to hide his shaking hands by wringing them together. His mind was a whirling dervish of thoughts. Was he allergic to something in the shop? Perhaps the dust that Ryris had sprinkled into the air just prior to the episode?

  Ryris.

  A strange thought bubbled in Roann’s brain. He tried to make sense of it as his body still reeled from the instant sickness. The horrible wave had only hit as he made skin-to-skin contact with the young man. But why would his body react in such a way to a simple, innocent handshake? The prince covertly looked down at the alchemist’s hands, noting the skin was stained red. It was quite possible he had experienced an allergic reaction to something Ryris had been working with before he visited.

  “We need to get you back to the palace.” His assistant stood, never releasing her grip on his arm. “I’ll call Doctor Thal.”

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort. I’ll be fine once I get some fresh air.” Roann stood on his own, brushing his companion’s hand away from his arm with a grimace. “My apologies, Mr. Bren. I’m afraid I’ll have to cut this visit short. I don’t know what has come over me, and I’m terribly embarrassed.”

  “No apology needed, Your Highness.” The young man walked to the door and opened it, letting in a welcomed blast of warm, fresh air. “Please allow me to mix a solution for you and send it to the palace. It’s the least I can do. No charge, of course.”

  “That’s very kind of you.” Roann mustered a thankful smile as he crossed the threshold. The sun hurt his eyes. The carriage was waiting for him, door open. He was thankful the crowd had dispersed, the citizens going back to their daily routines. As quickly as he could, he mounted the side of the coach and disappeared into the vehicle, slumping against the plush interior. He immediately pulled the velvet drapes closed. Casmit followed hot on his heels, slamming the door shut as the driver encouraged the horses to move.

  The bumpiness of the cobblestone streets had never bothered Roann before this day.

  ~~~

  Ryris shut the door and stood at the window, berating himself as Roann’s carriage pulled away. “Way to go, Bren…”

  The old fortune teller’s words echoed in his ears, about the world as he knew it changing. Surely once word got out that Prince Roann had become ill in his store, all bets would be off. No one would want to enter a place that nearly killed the prince. He tried to figure out how he was going to explain his move back home to Maxx. Kicking a shelf as he passed by, he grumbled as he headed for the workbench. Even if he was now unsure of what the future held for him in Keld, he was determined to make the best healing potion he had ever created. The prince deserved as much.

  He got to work grinding a dried midnight beetle carapace into a fine powder. When he was satisfied it was sufficiently pulverized, he poured the contents of the mortar into a wooden bowl and went in search of his other ingredients. He knew the prince had been dizzy, and therefore more than likely nauseous. A pinch of crystallized bat skin would do the trick in combating both ailments. Now, he just had to find it.

  Not completely used to the layout of the new store, it took the young alchemist a few moments to locate the ingredient he sought. He absentmindedly scratched at the skin beneath his amulet, his chest feeling dry. Ryris was taken aback when he withdrew his hand from his shirt and found his fingertips to be sooty. He quickly sniffed the substance and found it had the aroma of singed skin. Pulling open his shirt, he looked down past his chin to inspect the area. Unable to see clearly, he trotted upstairs to get a better look in his mirror. The bell on the door would alert him if he had any customers.

  Sunlight beamed in through the bathroom window, allowing him to see unimpeded. He unbuttoned his shirt and drew the fabric aside. His amulet hung across his chest, the purple stone glimmering in the daylight. Lifting the talisman up, he was shocked at what he saw.

  A layer of soot, black as coal, covered his skin. It didn’t expand out further than the width of the amulet. Never recalling any discomfort or heat emanating from the object, Ryris was thoroughly perplexed. He knew it hadn’t been there when he dressed in the morning. Confused, he tried to remember everything he had done—or touched—that morning that would have caused such a strange phenomenon. If the amulet had produced the mark, it surely would have felt hot to the touch. He inspected the charm hanging around his neck, turning it over to get a better look at the back in the mirror’s reflection. Nothing had changed. There was no sign of the substance on the piece, no indication that there had been any damage. Thinking for a long moment, he decided that he more than likely touched his chest with sooty fingers after stoking the morning fire. After all, what else could it be?

  Shrugging his shoulders, he sighed and returned to the shop. No use trying to figure out something that was probably nothing anyway. Maxx had always accused him of trying to read into situations way more than was warranted, and Ryris decided this was one of those times. Besides, he had a royal tincture to create.

  Three hours later, the fresh potion was nestled safely in a box and on its way into the hands of the prince, via royal carriage. Ryris waved after the coach, hoping that the peace offering was enough to mend any misgivings the prince may have developed since their visit. The last thing Ryris needed was to be on the bad side of the sovereign.

  ~~~

  “Roann?”

  The prince turned at the sound of his mother’s voice echoing from the foyer.

  “In the den.” He set his book down on his lap and threw his arm over the back of the couch. The thin short-sleeved shirt he wore hugged his muscles. Roann definitely enjoyed his ‘civilian clothes’, and relished every moment he could relax comfortably without a heavy doublet weighing him down. The empress, on the other hand, never wore anything but beautiful silk and satin dresses, her hair always perfectly coiffed, her makeup impeccable.

  Eilith glided into the brightly-lit room, immediately coming to a stop at her son’s side. She reached over and put a hand on his forehead. “Casmit told me you came home ill today?”

  “It was nothing.”

  The empress pursed her lips as she leaned closer to inspect his eyes. She finally sat beside him, pressing her fingers to the pulse point on his wrist. “That’s not what I heard. She said you were overwhelmed while visiting the new alchemist. That she had to help you back into the coach. And that you refused the doctor.”

  “She’s exaggerating. The shop was filled with very powerful aromas. It just got to me.” He patted her hand to reassure her. “I’ve been sitting here in front of the open window all afternoon, and the fresh air has cleared everything up.”

  Eilith narrowed her eyes, trying to decide whether or not to believe her son. She finally blew out a sharp breath from her nose. “Well, if you really think that’s all it was.”

  “I do.” Roann hoped she had been sufficiently appeased.

  “Those children at the preschool were very disappointed, you know. And hopefully the Momberts won’t reconsider any future donations.”

  Roann loved his mother, but she was one of the most passive-aggressive people he had ever met. She always tried to stay sweet and respectful, but she was a strong-willed woman and when she was displeased, she let you know it—sometimes subtly, sometimes not.

  “Now mother…” The prince shifted his weight on the couch, giving Eilith more room for her flowing gown. “Casmit has already rescheduled the preschool visit for tomorrow morning, and the Momberts are coming for dinner at the end of the week. I’m sure they were more than excited to tell their friends they’d be dining at the palace. They’ve probably forgotten all about tea this afternoon.”

  “The whole neighborhood m
ost likely knew within minutes of the courier leaving.” The empress laughed and reached to take her son’s hand in her own. She squeezed it lovingly. “Are you sure you’re fine?”

  “Yes. I’ve put it behind me, and so should you.” Roann pointed over to the end table, at a small vial nestled within a box. “The alchemist, Bren, even sent a potion this afternoon to help me feel better.”

  The empress picked up the bottle and tilted it, the liquid inside sloshing around. “Did you try it?”

  “No, but it was a nice gesture. I’ll hang onto it in case I’m ever feeling ill like that again. I’ve heard through the grapevine that he’s very talented, and that the shop he and his father ran in Blackthorne has been successful for many generations.”

  Eilith replaced the vial into the container. “Well then, I suppose there’s nothing more to discuss. I’ll stop fretting.” She stood up, flattening out the creases in her bodice, before she offered her arm to him. “Accompany an old woman to dinner?”

  Smiling, Roann set his book on the end table and stood, hooking his own arm around his mother’s. “It would be my honor.”

  ~~~

  The draperies blew in the wind, the fabric flapping in the dark room. The moon was absent from the sky, having entered its new phase that evening. Atop the dresser, a pristine pink gem sat on a small velvet pedestal, inclusions within glowing brightly, giving the room its only source of light.

  A figure tossed and turned in the large bed, a pillow knocked to the floor seconds later. With a start, the man sat bolt upright, raspy and uneven gasps shooting from his lips. Sitting hunched with a hand clasped to his bare chest, he waited for a moment in the darkness, trying to catch his breath.

  Roann hadn’t slept this poorly in ages. After what seemed like an eternity spent even trying to fall asleep, he was awakened soon after by his racing brain. The prince ran a hand through his tousled hair and sighed. He knew he wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. Throwing the covers aside, he rolled out of bed.

 

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