Ascension of the Whyte

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Ascension of the Whyte Page 12

by Karen Wrighton

my dear?” she asked, looking at the page number that Rose was reading as it struggled to turn in front of her.

  Rose had only managed to reach the fifth page of the first book after twenty minutes of reading.

  “I just don’t seem to be able to get it to work,” Rose said with a deep sigh.“ I couldn’t read the apis either, I don’t understand, shouldn’t I be good at all this?”

  Lady Tesler bent down close to her, speaking softly and choosing her words with care.

  “Occasionally it can take a novice a little while to settle into their potentia.  You must remember Rose, the rest of the novices though they may not be able to recall, have done this many, many times before. You, on the other hand, are a first-generation ascendant and this is all new to you. It is similar to the difference between remembering and learning, the pathways have already been forged in their minds, but you have to forge them yourself.”

  Taking Roses right hand in her own, she examined Rose’s ring.

  “The potens stone in your ring does not appear to be glowing as brightly as it should. Your potentia is not being channelled effectively.”

  Rose looked distraught.

  “Don’t worry Rose,” Lady Tesler said in an attempt to reassure her. “I am sure that with a little more practice, you will be able to do this just as well as everyone else.  You are to have private tuition with Lord Dux?”

  Rose nodded, “Yes, at Midday today.”

  “Good” Lady Tesler said, smiling she placed a hand on Rose’s shoulder, “then you should mention this to him, he may be able to help.”

  As the lesson came to an end, Lady Tesler took a small gold bell from her lectern and rang it gently, three times, its clear musical chime filling the hall.

  Rose jumped, startled as something had dropped down from above landing next to her with a loud thud. It was a red-faced, ape-like creature with dark hair, a white beard and whiskers, and it was wearing a red jacket and hat. Others quickly followed, landing heavily next to each of the novices. The creatures grabbed the novice’s books from their lecterns, before springing back onto the ladders and swinging themselves upwards using their hands, feet and tails. Deftly they climbed high up on the shelving to return each book to its rightful place on the shelf.

  Occasionally their endeavours were met with resistance from novices who had failed to relinquish their books quickly enough.  The animals reacted swiftly; scowling, baring their teeth, squealing loudly, and yanking hard on the books until they were relinquished. 

  “Do not mind the Doucs,” said Lady Tesler with a casual wave of her arm. “Let them take your books, if you allow them to do their job they will not bother you.”

  After another disappointing lesson, Rose worried that this pattern be repeated again in the next class, which was Alchemy. She could not understand why she was unable to cope the way the others did, even with the simplest of tasks. As they headed towards the Alchemy classroom, her sense of unease grew, and as soon as she inhaled the pungent aroma that permeated the air, she felt lightheaded and nauseous.

  The Alchemy classroom was tiled from floor to ceiling with marble.  Everywhere there were marble shelves housing bottles, jars and various shaped canisters. Their contents had all been carefully labelled, and included all manner of herbs, minerals, spices, metals, medicines, poisons and potions.

  Lord De Lille stood at the back of the room behind a large semi-circular bench.  In front of him was a small conical bamboo cage, inhabited by a fury tricoloured primate, with a round head, small pointed ears, a narrow snout and two enormous black eyes. Its eyes were irresistibly captivating, pools of black surrounded by dark fur and separated by a white stripe, which broadened out at the tip of the animal’s shiny black nose. Its limbs were slender and long, supporting hands and feet with long spidery fingers and opposable thumbs.

  “Quickly, quickly, take your seats we have not got all day,” said De Lille, banging a large marble pestle loudly on the bench. He waited impatiently for the last of the novices to settle into their seats.

  “Welcome first years,” he said eventually, his bushy brows lifting as a wicked twinkle glinted in his eyes.

  He raised his arms in a flamboyant greeting, the sleeves of his robe flapped dramatically like two large golden wings.

  “Welcome, all of you. Welcome to the realm of chemistry, medicine, potions and charms. Welcome to the ancient science of creating something out of nothing and, occasionally, nothing out of something.  Welcome to what will ultimately become your never-ending obsession, your quest to control the elements. Welcome to the cream of the potentia… Alchemy!”

  As he said this, he forcefully pounded his pestle down into a large marble mortar.  Instantly there was a loud explosion, releasing a blindingly white light.   A chorus of gasps and whoops rang out from the young novices as brightly coloured sparks and smoke billowed upwards into the air. Thousands of glittery particles that rained down, showering them all with tiny specks of light. De Lille smiled smugly at their pleasure. Pulling at his moustache, he twirled it briefly between his fingers. 

  “Alchemy is the oldest and most valuable of the potentia.” He said, “It is the study of all the worldly and ethereal elements, of charms and potions. You would not be here today if it were not for an Alchemist. It was the native Aurum Alchemist, Hermes Trismegistus, who discovered the elixir of life. It was this discovery that forever changed our world. It was this discovery that for thousands of years has enabled us to descend and ascend in vapour. Hermes was the first to brew and the first to consume a potion that he called ‘the white drops’. This potion, made from liquid gold, was what enabled him to vaporise and later to achieve immortality. He became the first of the ascendants, the first of our ancestors.”

  The room was deathly quiet. It seemed that everyone had forgotten how to breathe. Reaching down he grasped the bamboo cage by its handle, lifting it up he pointed at the animal inside.

  “This creature is one of the rarest creatures of the Afterlands.  Found only deep in the forests of Ferrum, this beguiling little creature is a pharmacon loris. It has been prized by Alchemists for centuries for many reasons. Primarily, however, because of the animal’s seemingly infinite knowledge of the medicinal and magical properties of vegetation, minerals, and natural compounds, both organic and inorganic.”

  He took a small purple flower and pushed it through the slats of bamboo into the cage. The loris took it, responding with a stream of clicking, chirping noises as it buried its snout into the centre of the flower.

  “Lorises know where to find almost all of the useful magical ingredients, they know how to identify them, and importantly, they know how to handle them safely. They do, however, need to be handled with care as the loris has an extremely toxic bite.  This seemingly innocuous creature produces a poison by licking a gland on their arm, the secretion then mixes with their saliva which activates the poison. Predators generally give them a wide berth because of this, although snakes and dragons are quite partial to them, their scales offering some protection from their needle sharp teeth.”

  De Lille strode around the room going from bench to bench, holding up the bamboo cage in order to enable each group to get a clear look at the animal.

  “It is traditional,” he said, returning the loris to his bench. “In this first Alchemy lesson, to offer a pharmacon loris, if one is available, as a prize to the cell whose Alchemist brews the most effective charm.”

  An animated discussion began between the novices. It rapidly grew into a noisy din. Lord De Lille held up a hand until they quietened.

  “Some advice, before you start,” he said, studying their faces seriously. “A loris cannot be forced to work for you; a loris has to be charmed. It is important that you listen very carefully if you wish to be successful if you do not listen, then you will undoubtedly fail this task.”

  Clicking his fingers, a marble-sized ball of flame sprang to life between them. He flicked it towards Rowan and Cedar who, oblivi
ous to De Lille’s instructions, were chattering excitedly.  The flaming sphere flew across the room exploding just above their heads with a loud crack and a shower of sparks. Startled, their faces paling and their mouths frozen with unfinished words, they turned towards the Magister. De Lille’s eyebrows were raised above two eyes that were full of mischief. A wry smile pulled at his lips as he continued.

  “In order to complete this task, each cell will be awarded a short amount of time with the loris.” He said, pausing for their faint murmur of excitement to quell. “During this period, you will need to discover the essence of the loris. In effect, this amounts to the encapsulation of the loris’s individual pleasures and preferences. It is important that not only do you work as a team, but that you use what you have learned today in your classes. Then ultimately, it will be the responsibility of your Alchemist to use his or her potentia, in order to brew the singularis charm. Be aware, there is no one recipe for this charm, each singularis is entirely unique to the individual for whom it is brewed. Yours must be wholly specific to this loris.  You will find a selection of potential ingredients, more than you could possibly need, on your benches next to your cauldrons and fyre bowls.”

  He motioned to the collection of trays which displayed miniature jars, small round

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