The Alchemist: Dawn of Destiny

by L. A. Wasielewski

  ~~~

  The heavy wooden door swung open, and Roann pushed Kaia over the threshold.

  Rich wooden paneling covered the walls, bookshelves filled with hundreds of volumes fit nicely into recessed nooks. A few paintings hung around the room, a plush, comfortable couch sitting in the middle, an ornate woven rug underneath its feet. Roann guided her to the sofa and encouraged her to sit. He moved to the windows and threw them open, tying the drapes back with golden tasseled ropes. Stars speckled the heavens. Kaia briefly contemplated running while his back was turned, but soon realized she would have nowhere to go. She was trapped—a prisoner guest.

  “Do all the dungeons in Keld look like this?” Kaia sat stiffly on the couch, her inner sass becoming louder by the second.

  “That filthy place isn’t worthy of your beauty. You deserve better. Your friends on the other hand…” Roann stood before her, unbuckling the swords from his back. He rested them up against an end table. Never taking his eyes off of Kaia, he removed his heavy doublet and threw it on a nearby chair. Underneath, he wore a simple cotton shirt, which he quickly unbuttoned near the top. Kaia caught a glimpse of a geometric pattern peeking out from underneath the fabric, seemingly tattooed onto Roann’s skin. With a satisfied sigh, he rolled up the sleeves. “That’s better. A long day trapped in those clothes will do a man in.”

  “I want to be with my friends.”

  “Well, that’s not going to happen. You’re much too important to Lyrax—to me—to be locked away in a stinking prison.” He motioned to their current surroundings. “This on the other hand, is fit for an emperor—and his empress.”

  “Wishful thinking.” She stared at him, unimpressed.

  “All this can be yours, you know. You come from regal blood. You’re too good to be traipsing around with rabble, getting your pretty little feet stuck in the mud.” He smiled broadly. “You’re a princess, and you need to be treated as such.”

  “If you think you’re going to sweet talk me into giving you the information you want, you should probably save your breath and throw me in the dungeon.”

  Roann laughed, his green eyes twinkling in the low light of the oil lamps. “Come now, Kaia. I’m not Lyrax. You don’t need to speak to me like you do him. We’re equals, you and I. I think we can find a middle ground that will make us both happy.” He walked to the liquor cabinet and uncorked a green glass bottle. “Wine?”

  Kaia crossed her arms over her chest and blew out an annoyed breath.

  “Your loss, it’s an incredible vintage.” Roann sipped at his glass before joining her on the sofa.

  “Just get on with it, already.”

  Roann scolded her with a clicking tongue. “Now, now…being sassy won’t get you anywhere. Although I do like a spirited woman.”

  “You don’t stand a chance.”

  “We’ll see.” The emperor drained the rosy liquid from his glass and set it on the table in front of them. Draping his arm over the back of the sofa and behind Kaia’s shoulders, Roann moved closer and leaned in, looking deep into her eyes. “Tell me where the hilt is.”

  Kaia pursed her lips in rebellion, inching backwards away from her captor. She suddenly found herself unable to go any further, her back pressing up against the arm of the couch.

  Roann rested his palm on her thigh. Kaia immediately re-crossed her legs, forcing his hand away. “Playing hard to get, eh? I tell you what, I’ll remove Lyrax’ enchantment as a show of good faith.”

  “Defying master?”

  Roann smirked and set his hands atop Kaia’s. He traced his index finger along the scar tissue. Bringing her marked hand to her lips, he kissed the permanently inflamed flesh. “Such pain…”

  Kaia tried to move her hands away, bur Roann clasped them tightly. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. She felt a tickle of energy sizzle down from her shoulders and jolt her fingertips. Suddenly, her magical abilities came flooding back.

  “Just remember that I can put it back at any time. So don’t do anything stupid.”

  Kaia rubbed her suddenly-aching hands together, in an attempt to dissipate the pain.

  “Aren’t you going to thank me?”

  The warrior just stared at him.

  Roann sighed. “No worry, I know you’re grateful. So, let’s forget about that hilt for a moment and talk about something else. I want to know what you see in that cowardly alchemist.”

  “See in him? Nothing.”

  The emperor narrowed his eyes and sized her up in silence. After a long moment, he finally spoke again. “No, I think you’re lying. I think…” He sighed and stared wistfully into her eyes. “…that you care a great deal for him.”

  “You don’t know anything about me.” Kaia huffed and turned her head away.

  Roann gently grasped her chin and guided her face back in his direction. “I could see it in your eyes in the forest, and when I had my foot inches away from crushing his throat.”

  Kaia swallowed hard and tried to avert her eyes from Roann’s piercing gaze. She didn’t need emotions clouding her judgment right now. Not when her fate, and that of her friends, was on the line.

  The emperor continued, forcing her to look at him once more. “You feel for him—as does he for you. Dare I say, you love him?”

  “Get to your point.”

  Roann moved even closer to her on the sofa, his body pressing up against hers. He pulled his fingers through her long, wavy locks as he pinned her with his body weight. His voice was low and lusty. “If you tell me where the hilt is, I can make all your dreams come true. I’m a thousand times the man Ryris will ever be, I assure you. You don’t have to depend on him, when you’ve got me.”

  Kaia responded to his advances with fire in her voice. “You’re pitiful.”

  In an instant, Roann’s emerald eyes became black voids. “…and you’re a bitch.”

  Before Kaia could react, Roann grabbed her forcefully and ripped her from her seat, throwing her roughly into a nearby chair. He tore the cords from the draperies and bound her arms behind the back. Flying in front of her, he got right in her face, teeth snarling, hair falling across his shoulders. “You want to do this the hard way? Fine.” He shook her violently, his voice rising as his anger did the same. “Where’s the hilt?”

  “You don’t scare me.”

  Roann raised his hand and struck her across the face, his signet ring breaking the smooth skin of her cheek. Blood dribbled from the wound, falling onto Kaia’s pants in a splotchy crimson pattern. “The hilt. Now.”

  “Hitting me isn’t going to win you any points, either. You’re really bad at this.” Her defiance was coming to a head.

  The emperor, his rage cascading over his body and taking control of his mind, grabbed Kaia by the throat and squeezed. With her hands bound, she was unable to claw at Roann’s fingers, and soon began to writhe as fight or flight kicked in. Ever defiant, she narrowed her eyes with resolve, even as she struggled to breathe.

  “You will tell me.” Roann exhaled sharply from his nostrils and stared her down.

  Shaking her head ‘no’, Kaia continued to struggle in his grasp, stars flickering in front of her eyes. She knew she had only moments before she lost consciousness. But she would not give in.

  The emperor kept squeezing, his fingers pressing so hard into her throat that they began to turn the skin white. Kaia’s eyes rolled back into their sockets as her brain screamed for oxygen. When she was seconds away from succumbing to his onslaught, Roann suddenly let go. Kaia spluttered and gasped as she desperately drew air into her hungry lungs. Wheezing, she narrowed her eyes at her assaulter and asserted herself, still defiant.

  “Go ahead, kill me. Your master will have your head.”

  Roann silently stared her down as he went to his desk and opened a drawer. He drew a dagger from a sheath, ornate and bejeweled. When he returned, he ripped open her blouse, exposing a simple lace brassiere. He straddled her leg, leaning down close to her body. Positioning the tip of the blade di
rectly over her heart, he finally spoke.

  “One thrust. That’s all it will take.”

  “Is that a promise?” Kaia cocked an eyebrow. Roann pressed the tip into her soft flesh, just piercing her skin. She hissed at the sensation, but did not cry out. “I don’t think you’ve got the guts to do it, Roann. You’re a coward.”

  Eyes still pools of ebony, he pressed the blade further into her body, the tip disappearing into her breast. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “I don’t want to do this. You’re too beautiful and smart to expire like this.”

  For the first time that day, Kaia truly feared for her life. Her face was flushed, her body shaking. She could feel the intrusion of the metal within her chest, the searing pain accompanying the blade. Not willing to give up—or give Roann what he wanted—she desperately tried to keep calm, even while she stared death in the eyes.

  Roann’s lips ghosted across the sensitive side of her ear, his breath hot as he spoke. “I want you to beg me to stop. I want you to plead for your life.” The blade slid further into her body with ease.

  Suddenly, Ryris’ face flashed before Kaia’s eyes. She realized that if she didn’t tell Roann what he wanted to hear, he’d kill her—and then go after the alchemist. He’d be put through hell, and Kaia couldn’t bear that thought. He had never been exposed to torture, and the thought of Ryris suffering because of her was too much for her to handle. Beads of perspiration ran down her face, soaking her collar.

  “Be a good girl and tell me where the hilt is, and all this pain will go away.”

  The blade was now a good inch within her bosom, and Kaia was about to black out from the intense agony. Against everything her brain was telling her to do, she finally decided to tell Roann what he wanted to hear. She wanted the pain to stop. She wanted him to get away from her. But most of all, she wanted Ryris to be safe.

  “…in the…wagon…” Her eyes fluttered as unrelenting pain washed over her, radiating from the dagger in her chest.

  “Where in the wagon, love?” Roann began to slowly remove the blade, savoring every moment of discomfort he caused her.

  “…floorboard…underneath…”

  The emperor slid the dirk from her flesh completely and wiped the bloody edge on Kaia’s torn shirt. He leaned down and kissed the oozing wound on her chest, his lips immediately stained with her blood. Moving up her body, he found her mouth with his own, and kissed her. Her own blood sticking to her lips, Kaia was in too much agony to care. Her consciousness was fading, and this time she could not fight it. Too weak to protest, she reluctantly allowed Roann to press his hungry lips against her own. After a long moment, he pulled back, running a comforting hand through her sweaty hair.

  “I knew you’d tell me. It’s a pity I had to pierce that perfect breast of yours in order to get what I wanted, though.” He reached behind the chair and cut her bindings with his dagger. “But don’t despair, you’ll be rewarded for your cooperation, Kaia. Such a beautiful name…”

  Kaia cracked her eyes open, trying to focus on Roann’s face. She could feel his body heat, smell the light scent of his cologne wafting from his hair. As she struggled to keep her gaze on his eyes—his black eyes—she found that his visage morphed and bubbled. Blinking to try and clear her mind, she suddenly found herself staring into Ryris’ eyes. Pain-induced dementia overtaking her, she reached a shaky hand up to touch the alchemist’s face.

  Roann closed his eyes at her touch, bringing his own hand up to cover her trembling one. “That’s right…you’re mine.”

  Tears streamed from Kaia’s eyes, clearing her field of vision. No longer was she looking at Ryris. Roann’s deep ebony eyes peered down at her, boring directly into her very soul. “I’m not yours…” she thought. “I’ll never be yours…”

  The emperor reached down, placing his hand over her heaving chest. Pressing strongly on the wound, he closed his eyes and concentrated. The pressure of his ministrations caused Kaia to finally scream out in pain. Blue light enveloped them both, tendrils of smoky fog coalescing around their bodies. Kaia writhed under his weight, praying to Oleana that he’d just kill her and be done with it. She was barely aware of a healing wave washing over her, concentrating its effort on the cut in her breast. After a moment, as the energy seeped into the wound and knit her skin back together, the light dissipated and Roann removed his hand.

  “You see? I’m not Lyrax. I can heal—and I can love.” He leaned in and kissed her deeply as she fell into a dream state, exhausted from her ordeal. “Let me love you…”

  ~~~

  Roann sifted through the contents of the party’s wagon, the scent of the horse stables wafting around him in all directions.

  The city was empty and quiet, the only noise being the ever-present din of buzzing flies in the square, and the annoyed whinnying of Ryris’ horse. By the light of a lantern, the emperor had removed the tarp from the cart and delved into the companions’ lives. Alchemical ingredients and a field alchemy kit, sacks of dried berries and jerky, multiple sets of clothing. Four crates containing shimmering crystal armor. Ornate helmets of the same material lay tucked under blankets, carefully wrapped in linens. He removed the crates containing Kaia’s armor and set them against the stable wall. She would most certainly need it later. Small weapons, cooking utensils, and a plethora of books rounded out the inventory. All items needed for everyday life on the road—if you were warriors preparing for battle. He set an alchemist’s satchel aside, filled with various brightly-colored vials. Perhaps it would come in handy at some point. Another bag, filled with stinking ingredients, he left alone.

  Working efficiently, Roann rearranged the items in the cart, exposing the floor. He methodically tapped on all the boards, listening for a hollow spot. After a few moments, he found his target and pried the nails out with a pair of tongs he found in the party’s belongings. Exposing a secret compartment, Roann smirked in the low light. He brought the lantern down in close, shining the flickering light on a velvet-wrapped parcel. He removed and unwrapped it, exposing a brilliant silver hilt. The gem in the pommel, although cracked down the middle, gleamed in the moonlight. It was magnificent, even in its broken state. Another item, shimmering just as bright, caught his attention from inside the recess. He brought out a glittering tiara. Fit for a princess, no doubt.

  Standing tall once again, he tucked the hilt into his waistband, grabbed the small satchel containing Ryris’ alchemical creations, and sighed in satisfaction. He would send a pair of guards to retrieve Kaia’s armor and weapon later. Roann held the delicate tiara in his hands. His breath fogged on the cold night air. Lyrax had predicted, that with this piece of the puzzle, they would gain exponential rise in their power. Should they recover the rest of the shards of Kaia’s sword, ultimate power would be within their grasp.

  They would be unstoppable.

  Roann grabbed his lantern to light his way back to the palace. Yes, he could teleport himself back in an instant, but the night was cool and clear—perfect for a walk. Kaia lay asleep in the castle, exhausted from her ordeal. The prisoners languished in the dungeons, awaiting whatever fate Lyrax had in store for them. Everything was going according to plan, and Roann felt completely content.

  He moved beside the horse, running a hand through her mane. Not having any of his contact, she stomped her feet and bucked, trying to get away from him. Snapping her head to the side, she nipped at his arm, her teeth just barely breaking the skin. Immediately irate, the emperor backed away and incinerated her without a second thought.

  As smoke rose from the ash pile that was once the flatulent horse, he sighed again, unwilling to let one little incident sully his good evening. He took in a deep breath, filling his lungs almost to their popping point, and headed back toward his home.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  The prince takes his breakfast at seven o’clock sharp. Eggs, scrambled. Cured ham, don’t skimp. Juice, coffee, and two biscuits with honey. Orange melon only, he’s allergic to the green varie
ty.

  -- Note from the Royal Chef to his apprentice, preparing for his annual vacation.

  Kaia awoke with stiff muscles, a stinging cheek, and a gnawing pain in her bosom.

  She cracked her eyes open slowly, half expecting to find herself in the dungeon for her unwillingness to cooperate in a timely manner the night before. But, she soon realized she didn’t lay on a dirty cot or a stone bier, and she wasn’t surrounded by moss-covered walls and insects.

  Her head was cradled by a puffy, down-filled pillow and the sheets covering her body were soft, blanketing her with comfort she hadn’t felt in centuries. The sun peeked through a crack in heavy maroon drapes, illuminating her face. She squinted for a moment as the light invaded her space, and turned her head sharply to move from its path. Stretching her body after a long night’s sleep, it took her a moment before the previous day’s memories all came flooding back.

  Bringing a hand up to her chest, she snaked her fingers into her shirt to check for evidence of healing trauma. She ran her fingers over her flesh, sucking in a surprised breath when she found absolutely no sign of the wound Roann had inflicted the night before. Sitting bolt upright in the bed, she opened her shirt wider and peered down over her chin at her breasts.

  Nothing remained of the previous night’s torture.

  Her skin was clear, unmarred by the blade’s bite. No dried blood, no scar. The only remnant was the ache beside her heart, waning with every passing minute. She let her hand linger as she tried to recall yesterday’s events. Her heart sunk as she remembered that she had told Roann the location of the hilt. She had failed her friends, failed her father—failed the world. Now that Roann had his hands on that piece, there was a good possibility he and Lyrax could figure out a way to utilize it. She hung her head and sighed in defeat.

  Ryris’ face had been the catalyst in her pain-induced admittance. Her unwillingness to bring harm to him had forced her hand. And now, Roann had the hilt. She cursed her emotions, knowing her growing love for the alchemist had exposed a crack in her warrior’s façade.