Chapter 4 In Darkness #4
Still, when he entered the back room, he clenched his jaw in nervous anticipation.
The room was lit by a multitude of candles and lanterns, bathing the long table at the rear end in a warm and steady light.
Behind the table, four figures sat on cushioned chairs, clad in the traditional dark green robes of the alchemists’ guild.
One robe, belonging to the man in the middle seat, was considerably more adorned than the others, and the rim had a rich, golden sheen to it.
The man wearing it had to be the local guild master, Thalen Virex, if Kraghtol remembered the name from the rejection letter correctly.
At least fifty years had etched lines onto his face, and he sported well-groomed graying hair and beard.
But the most unusual feature of his appearance was the multitude of small tattoos covering his skin.
They looked like winding glyphs, seemingly randomly scattered over his face, and no two of them looked alike.
Next to this imposing man sat a woman, about twenty years younger but clearly high-ranking as well. Her face was stern and composed, and Kraghtol could almost tangibly feel her eyes scrutinizing him.
Two more men sat on the left and right sides of the table: one with white hair and glasses, behind which sparkling green eyes betrayed an unusually sharp mind, and one with long silvery hair but youthful skin.
Only at second glance, Kraghtol noticed the pointed ears of an elf.
And the elf was different in one more sense: he was the only one who was smiling.
While the woman wore an almost disapproving face, the other two men seemed to keep neutral expressions.
There was no chair on his side, but the table stood on a slightly elevated floor, putting the heads of the four almost at eye-level with him as the alchemist guild master leaned forward.
“Good evening. You must be Krasen from Caemdir.”
His voice was rich and conveyed natural authority.
“Y-yes. Thank you for having me.”
“I am Thalen Virex, local guild master of the Alchemists’ Guild here in Winterstone. Mrs. Elvara Quenning to my right is the school’s dean, responsible for all practical aspects of the education you seek to enroll in.”
The woman nodded in acknowledgment, and Kraghtol felt like he was being dissected under her gaze. Thalen continued.
“Also with us today are lecturer Holen Merress, who teaches the history of alchemy and ethical use, and master Rendon Myrr, specializing in higher alchemy.”
He nodded first towards the elf and then towards the man on the left.
“Now, Krasen. Tell us: why are you here?”
“Oh, I… I want to join the school. As a student,” Kraghtol stammered, but it didn’t take the dean’s mildly annoyed look to understand this was not what the guild master meant. He tried again.
“I mean, I want to learn. Alchemy has always fascinated me, and I want to… understand it. How it works. What makes the clock tower tick.”
He smiled happily, particularly proud of the last sentence. However, the committee’s reaction was not as expected: heads turned and eyebrows rose until the elf answered in a melodic voice.
“Very few people know the clock tower is driven by alchemy. How did you come by this knowledge?”
Kraghtol’s heartbeat quickened. Now that he thought about it, entering the tower was almost certainly not allowed, and he definitely didn’t want to admit to being a troublemaker right away. The elf was still smiling, but more than ever, Kraghtol felt the piercing attention of everyone in the room.
“Well, honestly… I did not know. I just noticed the building looks quite old, and I could not think of anything else but the wonders of alchemy to keep it going for that many years.”
He hesitated for a heartbeat, but took the lie one step further.
“And one way to find out for sure was to mention it to you. After all, who would know if not you?”
He could feel his pulse in his veins and just hoped they wouldn’t find his words as insolent as he did himself.
“So, you took your observation, developed a theory, and tested it. Questionable in terms of respect, but clever nonetheless. I would even call it refreshing.”
The voice of the oldest member of the board, master Myrr, had a slight croaky undertone to it, making Kraghtol wonder if he had some kind of disease, possibly a cold.
Thalen Virex cleared his throat slightly, a sign that the questioning would go on, but there was a slight hint of approval in his voice now.
“Alright. Let’s put this aside for the moment. What do you know about alchemy?”
That was a surprisingly good question. The honest answer would be ‘almost nothing’.
“Well, it’s… it’s the craft of wonder, if you ask me. You create magical mixtures that can do almost anything. But if you ask me how you do it, I have to admit that I have no idea. That’s why I’m here to learn.”
It sounded stupid in his own ears, but at least no one laughed.
“Good. Now suppose we accept you into our school, and you learn our secrets. What will you use your knowledge for?”
The dean’s voice was as stern as her expression, leaving no space for uncertainty.
“I want to help people. Everybody has problems, and by learning alchemy, I hope I can solve some of them.”
He thought this was a good answer — and it was an honest one — but except for the ever-present smile on the face of the elf, the committee didn’t seem to be very impressed.
“So, you think ordinary problems of ordinary people deserve an alchemical solution?” Elvara asked. The tone of her voice made it clear there was a right answer to this question, and it was not the ‘yes’ he would have blurted out before the potion had ordered his mind.
“N… no. Sorry, I think I didn’t say that right. I mean the big problems, of course. The important ones. Ordinary means can solve ordinary problems, but alchemy… alchemy is extraordinary.”
It didn’t feel right to put it that way, and Kraghtol felt bad, as if he was lying to himself. But it was clearly the answer they were looking for, and Thalen Virex nodded.
“Exactly. And who is best suited to decide which problems are worth an alchemical solution?”
It was an obvious question, and the expected answer was obvious as well.
“The guild, of course.”
“Very well, Krasen. I think we have heard enough. Please leave us alone for a moment while we discuss the question of your admission. We will call you in again when we have decided.”
Kraghtol bowed slightly and left the room, back to the front office with Mrs. Urdson behind her desk. It was pleasantly cool here, and he realized his back was cold from sweat that was not only caused by the stifling room.
“It will be alright.”
Mrs. Urdson was emotionless as usual, but Kraghtol found her words calming.
“Thank you. I hope I didn’t mess it up too badly.”
She shook her head slowly.
“I doubt that. But even if you did, the final decision is with the guild master. And Virex is a good man. I think you can trust his judgment.”
With these words, her voice trailed off again, and she returned to her papers. The wait was as bad as before, but at least this time, it was shorter.
“Please come in again, Krasen.”
The four guild members looked just as hard to read as before, and the guild master took a few moments to look at Kraghtol before he spoke.
“We have discussed the matter of your admission, Krasen of Caemdir, and we have decided to grant you the knowledge you are seeking. If you still desire to join the school, I offer to formally seal the education contract on behalf of the great Alchemists’ Guild of Wardenreach for you.”
Realization dawned slowly in Kraghtol. They had accepted him. He would become an alchemist, just as he had dreamed as a child. A huge smile spread across his face. This was it; his life had turned for the better.
“I would be honored to accept your offer, Mr. Virex. Thank you so much.”
His eyes searched for more official paperwork, like the before-mentioned contract, but found none.
Instead, the guild members stood up from their seats and surrounded him.
He had not noticed before, but etched into the polished stone floor was a large circle, centered about on the spot where he was standing, and one by one, the teachers moved candles to the outline of the circle, until a good dozen small flickering flames separated him and the guild master, who had entered the circle as well and stood right in front of him now, from the rest of the room.
Apparently, his confusion was showing, and for a moment, an enigmatic smile flashed across his heavily tattooed face.
“Do not be afraid. This is how we form an alchemical contract.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as the old man poured a silvery liquid into the lines of the circle, while the elf was igniting an incense burner that quickly filled the room with a sweet, exotic-smelling cloud.
“How does it work?”
“Perhaps at the end of your training, you will be able to explain how this works. If you are gifted enough, that is. For now, all you need to know is that an alchemical contract forms a permanent bond between two individuals, sealing an agreement between us. Know that in order to nullify this contract, we both have to agree. And if one of us should break it unilaterally, the alchemical backlash will most probably end the life of the one who did it. Do you understand?”
Kraghtol gulped. That sounded a lot more severe than he had expected. But he had already come this far.
“I understand. What do I need to do?”
The guild master gave him a moment to reconsider before going on.
“If you agree to become a student at the alchemists’ school in Winterstone, take my hand.
You will agree to pay your student fees in total and on time, for as long as you wish to continue your studies.
You will also agree never to share the secrets of our crafts with people outside of the guild, neither during your education nor after it — whether or not it was successful. ”
Kraghtol nodded slowly. It was clear that this was standard wording, used for every student and refined over decades. He didn’t have any objections, either; he hadn’t even considered sharing alchemical secrets with anyone before now.
He reached out his hand, but apparently, the guild master hadn’t finished.
“I, on behalf of the Alchemists’ Guild of Wardenreach, agree to see that you are formally instructed in the alchemical craft to the best of your capabilities and character.
You will be given access to the necessary amounts of ingredients, including Activator, to finish your studies as your teachers see fit.
If, after your education you prove to be a capable alchemist, I agree to certify you as an official practitioner. ”
Kraghtol nodded again, but Thalen still went on.
“We both agree that if you repeatedly fail to demonstrate your capabilities, or if the guild finds you in severe breach of its laws, the guild may expel you without further obligation. Even in this case, you remain bound by the agreement never to share alchemical secrets and cannot practice under the guild’s name, as you are uncertified. ”
Kraghtol wasn’t sure how to feel about it. This part of the contract seemed a little one-sided, but then again, it wouldn’t matter. All he had to do now was to see his education through.
“I agree,” he said, as formally as he could.
And now, the guild master took his hand firmly.
For a moment, nothing happened, until the dean entered the circle, sprinkling a sparkling silvery powder over their hands.
Immediately, cold blue flames erupted and engulfed their hands.
It was the same blue Kraghtol knew from both his potion and the clockwork.
And as before, he could physically feel something happening.
The flames traveled along their arms, momentarily engulfing his right shoulder, where he felt a sudden, piercing sensation.
It lasted only for one moment before the pain, along with the flames, receded, and Virex let go of his hand.
“The contract is sealed. Do not worry. You will find a physical mark representing the contract on your body — on your shoulder if I saw it right — not unlike the ones on my face.”
Kraghtol inspected the other man’s face with renewed interest.
“You mean, these are…”
The same enigmatic smile as before crossed the guild master’s mouth.
“Most of them, yes. Many of these marks represent contracts I made with students, such as yourself. Most of them have already either graduated or aborted their education. The marks, however, stay, since the contract still stands, even after their training.”
There was a moment of silence until the other teachers started extinguishing the candles one by one.
“Now, all that’s left is to welcome you into the school. As per our agreement, you can start learning tomorrow, after paying the tuition fee to Mrs. Urdson. Work hard and make us proud, Krasen from Caemdir.”
Kraghtol’s head was still swimming when he walked the night streets back to his room.
This had easily been the strangest day of his life.
This morning, he had been down on his luck, rejected and homeless.
And over the course of a single day, he had exchanged his body and his entire life with it.
He had a place to stay, and he was closer to his childhood dream than he had ever been.
In the privacy of his own chamber, he disrobed and looked at the glyph-like mark, embedded in the rosy skin at the front of his right shoulder. Yes, they had accepted him, but…
It was a lie. Not the lie he had told the committee during the interview.
No, he was a lie. There was no one called Krasen from Caemdir.
Inside this considerably weaker frame, he was still Kraghtol Wulfspar, the half-orc.
He had no idea how long the potion would hide the truth, and he wasn’t so sure he enjoyed lying to the world like that.
As much as he had hated his skin and his tusks, the new him felt wrong and alien somehow.
He shook his head and yawned. Perhaps he was just tired. Tomorrow would be the first day of his new life with the alchemists, and regardless of how he looked, he would live it to the fullest.