“Again Prince, now what is the composition of soil?”
The displeased Griffon, the much younger of the two that were loitering about, simply kicked the dirt circle with frustration. He gave a huff to blow out the long feathers that slid over his face and wondered with all the curiosity of a thousand scholars why such a technique had to be made. There was nothing fun about it, just endless shapes within shapes and weird looking scribbles.
Prince Talos was merely at the dawn of his tenth year, born and raised in the Royal family and already he believed everyone plotted against him to steal his happiness. He hadn’t a single companion his age and was surrounded since the day he was born by military officials and other such individuals of great importance. It was bad enough that they forced him to draw dirt circles all day long; he would be at least satisfied with his despair if they explained why he had to perform such a tedious task.
“Prince, I have asked you a question. Answer it with a straight face.” His teacher spat. Talos would only roll his eyes at the old hoot, if he got angry about him it would only be his loss.
“Good soil will have an estimated composition of approximately 25 percent air, 25 percent water, 5 percent of organic matter which includes organisms and other biomass and roughly 41 percent mineral which varies according to different locations.” He gave his old teacher a tired look, “can I go home now?”
His teacher stood silent for a while, before sadness crept on his face with unnatural reaction which always made the Prince’s face grow red with annoyance. He always gave Talos that look whenever he answered and it began to infuriate him out more than those talk sessions with his father, like he had answered incorrectly or was doing something completely wrong. He did everything his teacher asked him to do and so much more. To study about the chemical composition of everyday things around him took less than 4 hours to fully memorize and he alone was the youngest fledgling to memorize the runic function. Talos remembered his father saying how previous students had failed to even comprehend that alone, so why did he always look like he’d failed him?
“Very well, you deserve some rest for your work today young Prince. But before you leave you must answer a final revision question if I may, just so I know for sure that you have the concept grasped.”
Talos could only sigh and slumped his body over the oak tree behind him. Knowing all the knowledge in the world wouldn't convince him, not even being his little prodigy deterred him.
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and staring at the sky. Talos looked too, as if there was something to see. There was nothing but the sight of the old oak trees in the royal gardens, their crimson leaves fluttering against that azure sky.
“Explain to me Prince, the Law of Equivalent Exchange.”
Talos stopped to think about that one, not because the question was difficult but it was rather, easy. He felt as if it was some form of trick question, but the question was straight forward and quite blatantly clear. Even the most thick-headed alchemist knew that rule, the one rule that governed the process of alchemy. He learned that year ago
“The law of Equivalent Exchange dictates that matter cannot be created nor can it be destroyed into elemental-nonexistence. It also restricts matter from being created without sacrificing something of a similar makeup or property. In short the Law of Equivalent Exchange is that in order to gain something, something of equal value must be lost or destroyed.”
This was all too easy; perhaps alchemists were overrated scientists after all.
He squatted down onto the grassy field, thinking hard about this revered alchemical law. Talos was never really satisfied in hearing that alchemy was an all-powerful art, like it gave the user complete control of the universe. His teacher had always told him that everything in the universe was alchemically mouldable, as anything composed of the elements could be deconstructed into simpler forms and rearranged but that clearly wasn’t the case. If he recalled correctly, there was something in the universe that alchemy could not create. There was no documentation of alchemy ever creating life.
“Could I ask you something?” Talos queried.
“Anything my Prince.”
“You always said that I could do anything within the law of Equivalent Exchange with alchemy.” He began to draw several chemical symbols, water and salt being the most recognizable to his teacher, “Living beings, their bodies are just bags of water aren’t they? Why has no one ever tried creating life? You know, reincarna-“
“-It is against ethics and morality itself.” His teacher interrupted quickly. “You will have to ask somebody else Young Prince for a full explanation.” He turned his look away from Talos, who only narrowed his expression to one of suspicion.
Talos began to quickly question why every alchemist he asked always avoided this particular question. Was it possible? If so, why was everyone forbidden to speak of it? If it was as dark as they made it out to be, wasn’t in the interest of the nation for Griffons to know about it?
“You seem to think that my father would care about ethics.” Talos replied rather coldly.
A sigh escaped from Archimedes, the fledgling showed so much darkness for someone so young. He’d seen him grow since he was born, the pour soul never knowing his mother and living out his life within the confines of castle walls of the imperial palace. He was intelligent, blessed with an unnatural amount of aptitude but for all that was worth, the Prince never showed anything to live for than just that alone. He never smiled nor laughed and buried his head in alchemical textbooks under the watchful eye of the guard. He had a knack for trying to disregard rules as inquisitive minds rarely relented towards authority that withheld knowledge. Perhaps he was the fool to believe that Talos would not be interested sooner or later.Archimedes leaned in towards the Prince, looking around him for any unwanted spectators. Already Archimedes had doubts whether he was doing the right thing, knowledge like this could lead him astray.
“Prince Talos, what you are looking for is something that yields dangerous consequences. Will you promise me that by your blood you will not look any further into this if I tell you?”
Talos nodded.
“Very well, for it seems that you will not let go until this matter is settled” he yearned, softly clapping. “Living transmutation, like all others, falls under the law of equivalent exchange. The ritual of living transmutation is merely more than just the deconstruction and the reconstruction of the physical. Something else is also transmuted, and that is the soul.” He gave Talos a grave look, “under the laws of equivalent exchange, what do you think the user should pay in order to make a soul?”
This caught the Prince’s attention. The physical seemed simple, he gave him that, but it never came across him that a soul would be necessary. Then it came to him: a soul was a concept, something born out of consciousness that was given a label. I think, therefore I am and this kind of statement was born from the highly advanced brain, something that could be reproduced with alchemy.
He secretly grinned to himself, laughing where no one could hear him. He was only eight years old, and just there he had figured out what countless other scientists and philosophers had failed to answer, or just too cowardly to even try. Spirits and souls; there was no proof such a thing existed, the mysterious element which all alchemists could not figure out was not real at all, what utter stupidity.
“A soul must be priceless according to only known theories of philosophy. It is impossible to bring a soul back from the dead if souls have no cost in the flow of the world” He replied half-heartedly. His lies aside, there was no chance an introverted mind like his teacher’s would understand his conclusions for the matter.
Archimedes for once, smiled as if the dog had finally been given his treat. “That is absolutely correct young Prince; living transmutation is unmanageable due to this law. I myself have never heard much of it and definitely have never performed anything to do with it, so my knowledge about it is limited so I am sorry I cannot provide you with further details.” He bowed respectfully, “But I hope I have convinced you that it is foolish to even think that such a thing is possible.”
Prince Talos just stared into deep space, and after a few minutes of silence spoke.
“Yeah, you got me.”
The simple truth was that Talos had already known that. In fact, he had already begun researching living transmutation long before, when he got bored with inanimate construction.
Suddenly a gust of wind announced the presence of a new player, with wings beating fervently a broad masculine figure landed with gentle manifestation, his palace armour clanking all the way through. Beneath his visor lie eyes that shone with a blazing crimson tint, his groomed black feathers radiating an aura of elitist status. He wasted no time at all lowering himself to his superiors, addressing the two with a voice to gentle to match his war-like stature.
“Forgive me for intruding on your personal lessons Prince Talos, but her highness has wished to see you and has asked me to forward a request if that would be alright with you.”
Talos’s eyes widened, “she’s here? I thought she was hospitalized.”
“It took her a solid fifteen minutes to persuade the doctors, she insisted on seeing you outside, the doctors says she’ll be fine as long as it’s not for prolonged hours.”
His sister had come to see him, and in her bed-ridden state. Talos didn’t know whether to cry or smile but one thing he knew for sure, he wanted to see her too.
“Yes, I would like to see her.”
The guard smiled and gave him a nod before taking flight once more and speeding into the distance.
A few minutes later, the same guard appeared, supporting a female Griffon with a simple platinum chest piece around her neck who walked with heavy steps. Her eyes were dull, paled to the point you could not tell if she was blind while her brown feathers shed periodically by her side. The 56th heir to the throne of the Griffon Kingdoms and first-born child to his majesty Emperor Clawdus, pulling a wooden trolley beside her that carried her life-support.
Talos wasted no time to run for her, spreading his wings and gliding gently towards her as they embraced in each other’s arms. Reaching for his pipe, he exhaled a puff of smoke, content at watching the two from a distance, watching as they conversed in words he could not hear. What those words were, he did not know. The old alchemist never experienced having a brother or sister, but words alone that could change the Talos into a normal child qualified more than enough to be magic.
He took a gander at the young fledgling before him, quite different from the narcissistic prodigy that once stood in his place. That was what his sister meant to him. He smiled with naivety whenever she was around; acting as if he was freed from chains he could not see. He had seen them talk before; more or less always it was her sister lying down with Talos at her side, but you could never paint such happiness as he expressed, for that was the smile of being acknowledged and to be loved.
His smile quickly faltered at the thought of her highness. Sickened by a disease since she hatched, she only became feebler as time progressed. Griffon medicinal practices, even Equestrian doctors for that matter, could not treat her ailment and as a result she slowly wasted away in her chambers with no friends or family. Talos changed that, and he brought her happiness as she did to him and forged a bond inseparable by nature and it was by this act she begged him to do whatever he could do to sustain her dying form with alchemy. It was miraculous to Archimedes how her eyes, who once embraced fate, now tried so desperately to cling onto whatever life she had left in her to see her brother, even if was just to see him grow older for just one day.
He sighed, fuming the exhaust of his pipe. Talos had no clue that she kept her sickness hidden from him, and for his attendants to do the same. She was too caring, just as she always was. Archimedes was an old bird, and for years as the chief alchemist of the Royal household he would always hoot the same message at her highness to tell him the truth. He wasn’t somebody you could fool for long, yet somehow Talos had already past eight years without realizing. Whether or not he chose not to believe it was entirely up to speculation. There was no doubt in his mind that her visit had reason for being out of place: she wanted to see her brother one last time should the experiment fail. But still, it was crucial that Talos was to be brought back into reality from his utopian world; lest his ever-soaring heart be shattered forever. To no avail, she always gave him the same answer.
“I want him to be happy when I am here, worrying does nobody any good.”
He was an alchemist, he believed in the theory of Equivalent Exchange and that if one was to gain something that something of equal value must be taken. It was law that governed the universe and impossible to violate, Archimedes knew this and never questioned it. But every time he looked at those two, how could one not think that law was so inexplicable cruel? They gained happiness that would only last for so long, how could her precious soul be only worth that?
He refused to believe it so, and so agreed to an experimental medical transmutation
In his train of thoughts, it became shattered as he noticed the two walking towards him. He shelved his feelings away and masked himself with a smile, bowing down graciously before the Royal family.
“It is good to see you out of internment, Princess Talia.”
Her worn face replied with a smirk, her wings spreading across her brother. “It is good to see you as well grand alchemist, you fare much better in sunlight than in the light of the dingy hospital rooms.” She said cheekily.
Archimedes chuckled, “I am glad such rooms have not extinguished your sense of humour.”
Talos tugged at the Princess’s side with a pout face, “enough walk with this old geezer Tal, you said you wanted to see some alchemy remember? I practised a lot more since last time.”
His sister smiled at her brother’s enthusiasm, “Of course Talos, you know how much I love seeing your alchemy. As long as you keep it simple this time, it took father forever to get those ceramics fixed last time.” She giggled, thinking back on the accident at the harbour.
Talos wasted no time at all, instantly getting onto all fours and already clawing at the dirt with fervent ferocity. He forced himself to slow down in order to get his basics straightened out first. First there needed to be a circle, in which to act as the sort of channel to turn the earth’s energies to your own needs and to tap into the cyclical flow of the world. He circled his claw around skilfully until he got a circle of a desirable shape and began to think.
There has to be a rune, something to shape the energy into changing the material.
He traced out a simple hexagram, tracing it deeply into the dirt and getting the sides to perfectly touch the edge of the circle. The shape represented control over the four classic elements of fire, water, earth and air and though he didn’t need anything to do with fire, water or air, he believed that showing off never hurt anyone.
Now this was a complete - albeit basic- transmutations circle, one that was ready to start the process of Equivalent Exchange and where the real fun began. He connected himself with the circle, placing his claws on the circle and feeling the gist of the dirt within it. This art was so much more than changing the shape of a material into something new; he needed to understand the composition of dirt in order to change it, both chemically and physically. The materials that he had in mind would need to be broken down from the minerals within the soil: tiny fragments of quartz and clay so small it was almost impossible to see with the naked eye.
At the thought, the circle began to glow with a blue tinge, coupled with sparkling blue electricity that emanated from the edge: alchemical reactions. He could feel the composition of the dirt being rearranged until he was left with something malleable, something he could use to reconstruct it.
A simple shape, a griffon would have to do. He felt himself guiding the malleable, deconstructed mineral into its new form and pictured himself. When the shape had been created, he felt his connection to the earth severed and the light fade away.
“Excellent, and might I add the craftsmanship is exquisite young prince.” Archimedes complimented.
Talos opened his eyes to see that within his dirt circle was a small clay pendant with an intricate design carved in it, a shape that resembled a heart. Around the statue the dirt had caved in, supposedly due to the absence of some soil being turned into water, oxygen or biomass due to extraction. It was in a way a very simple example of Equivalent exchange, as soil had been sacrificed in order to make something new: the clay pendant.
“Look,” Talos went and picked up the pendant, handing it to his sister. It was basic, just as she’d asked, but he alchemically carved their names onto it for extra measure. “this is just something I’ll throw away later, it’s a bit dirty since it’s made out of clay, but maybe next time I can get something like iron to make a-“
Talos’s words trailed off as he noticed his sister looked like she was on the verge of tears. “What’s wrong, don’t you like it? I can make something else if you want.” He felt a surge of guilt for his stupidity gifting his sister with a piece of clay; he might as well have given her stones.
“That’s not it,” she sniffed. Her brother always brought her gifts made from alchemy; ever since he could start drawing transmutation circles he insistently gave her statues and various forms of art. Despite the quality, many of his gifts were derived from stones or cheap metals but nevertheless she always kept his precious gifts close to her at hospital, with the other gifts stored away in the bottom drawer. Rummaging through happy memories, she dried her tears from notice.
“I didn’t think you would improve so fast; I guess you are a prodigy after all.” She admitted quietly. “This looks beautiful Talos, it reminds me of you. Do you mind I keep it?” she asked.
In his talons was a mere clay object with a ring around the top for a strong to be attached. She was given gifts of precious jewels which had been handcrafted by merchants that travelled the eastern sea to get here, not to mention her platinum necklace– a sanctified relic that had been handed down to each heir of the throne since the days of ancient times. It was absolutely priceless in terms of value and in design. His clay piece was nothing compared to those, but she was reminded of what the value of a gift truly was. Houses of nobility always gave her gifts of gold and silver, encrusted with rare jewels and fragmented with the incense that reminded her of faraway lands of the desert oasis and calm seaside; it was surprising to realize how worthless they all were. All of them were delivered by faceless servants and unheard whispers, and in the end she was left alone day after day.
Her only birthdays were attended by Talos, who always went out of his way to go visit her. He skipped lessons, ran away from his room at night and even drugged a bodyguard using alchemy to talk to her, discuss personal things that Talos never showed to anyone else. He gave her a gift that was much more than shiny stones or meaningless crafts: he gave her the gift to understand what life was truly meant for, a life with others whom you cared for.
“Sure I guess.”
With a nod she promptly unclicked the mechanism which held the platinum locket on her chest, which was not taken to lightly by the palace guard.
“With all due respect you highness, the locket should not be removed under any circumstances.”
This was certainly true, for the relic not only symbolized the great wealth of the nation but also signified the stability of the Royal household, even in mythology it had the ability to ward off civil war. There was a law for the heir to wear the relic, from birth to ascension which could not be challenged except by the permission from the emperor’s direct word.
“Talia, I thought you weren’t supposed to remove that.” Her brother whispered.
She laughed weakly, twirling the crafted piece of metal in her claws. “And I wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place too. I’m sure they’ll let me wear this one after they see how beautiful it is Talos, I didn’t like the necklace that much anyway.” She assured.
She motioned her guard to take the platinum locket, which he complied with hesitant expression.
Her brother’s eyes lit up with that statement. “Do you really mean that Talia?”
“Of course I do, I would never lie to you.” She smiled warmly.
The rest of the day seemed like a dream, sitting by her sister in the open fields of the garden as sunset loomed overhead. They talked a lot, thinking about the past and present, but mostly on the future and all the beautiful possibilities that would soon arrive. It was a timeless place at that moment, the moment of stillness in the moment of when the dew struck the water’s surface, memories rippling in both their minds. She would scold him to make some friends, and the Prince would complain that military training was boring but in the end, there was always laughter to be shared among them. Others changed the world you viewed the world, and Talos, for the longest time, felt safe.
As her brother's eyes closed with slumber, the sister whispered in a voice so calm and serene. Talos, half asleep, heard the voice in his dreams, and possibly the last words she would ever speak to him.
"I hope we may see each other one day."
And so she slept too, among chalky mauve clouds which promised a peaceful night.
“All our knowledge brings us nearer to death,
But nearness to death no nearer to God.
Where is the life we have lost in living?
Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge?
Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?
The cycles of heaven in twenty centuries
Brings us farther from God and nearer to the dust.”
-T.S Eliot
Today was a night unlike any other in the Griffon Empire. Though never to be bragged about by its citizens, the Griffon people could showcase a tremendous amount of aesthetical value in its formal events in a very short amount of time. As a nation largely obedient to the code of conduct and bound in honourable blood, soldiers were given high respect for commitment for not only the king but the welfare of the nation. As such in accordance with tradition, it was normal for Griffon soldiers in their stand-by uniforms to act as waiters for the event or eve accompany the other guests in talk or if you were lucky: the ladies while dancing. Species of variable types could be seen, though on common ground they acted as diplomats for each respective nation, all rich and noble in the latest fashion and gossip and with full intention to make a good impression.
The great halls were lit with lights that danced in the flicker of silver chandeliers that hung below the marble arcs, stretching across the ceilings in a spiralling pattern that resembled the ancient roots of a tree. There was a sea of busy voices and ever -changing emotion, each occupied in its own world of topics and discussions. They talked between each sip of wine or champagne by finely dressed Griffon soldiers, decisions and indecision amongst other petty talk. Among aromas of exotic food, traditional music fitting for the occasion was also provided by the military, who struck each soothing note with steady claws and harmonious intent.
Archimedes was glad to see such an occasion for once before his passing: the dancing, the laughter- everything in perfect motion. Never had he seen the Great Hall so extravagant, indeed a fantasy tale that had come to life come to life. He sipped a pint from his glass, cooling his throat from the blistering heat that always came from parties like this. He counted his fortunes carefully before he started to complain, thinking how lucky he was to be seated at a table where an open window was present.
His eyes wandered about for some time, before noticing the returned gaze of some female guests: one griffon and one mare. He promptly shuffled his wings in a more presentable manner, attempting to show the gusto he had in his younger years. He almost gagged himself doing this, severely straining his spine whilst the two walked away without so much as a word or gesture. He sighed knowing the only hope in his love-life was indeed a hag as old as himself, oh how love could be so cruel.
Others voiced their opinions on how he should start thinking about retirement and like always he threw their voices out like trash. The prospect of being useless was terrifying to him, where would he live anyway? Back where he was born in the Snowy North? He hadn’t lived there for what seemed like centuries, he hardly knew anyone who lived there. No, his purpose was always and always had been with the capital, to preserve knowledge and to serve the few family he had left. Honour would be the last friend of griffons in their old age, some would say.
“Well who do we have here, if it isn’t the Grand Alchemist himself.”
Archimedes shifted his glasses back, his slight smile now a frown. Behind him was Major Kederian no doubt. It was easy to distinguish such a sharp tone which was so uniquely devoid of any seriousness at all. “I would be careful what kind of words you say to me Major, here you are to address me as a doctor.”
He finally showed himself, clad in his red and black stand-by uniform which was supposed to fit underneath proper armour and sat at the opposite end of the table, pouring himself a drink.
“Right, right, the whole secrecy of the arts thing I know, but you know I’ve never really understood why you lot want to keep it under wraps.” He said, brushing his forward head feathers aside. “I thought you kept it as a deterrent, not a secret weapon.”
He drank the whole thing in one go, brushing his beak in preparation for another. Archimedes could already see the toll such a night had on the young, his crimson eyes tired from all this free alcohol. He couldn’t believe how casually he took the situation, he should’ve believed knowing the Major but this was borderline traitorous.
He sighed, taking a drink himself. “My old friend, I propose we talk about this topic elsewhere, the night is still young with busy ears.”
“Alright man, calm down. Just interested that’s all.” He said with his claws raised.
Archimedes rolled his eyes; another perk for being old was that everyone treated you as if you were scolding them. He would know having such a student who treated Archimedes’ existence as some sort of “eternal punishment for his sin” in the boy’s own words. Thinking back to those days though, there was something about teaching him that suddenly spiced the old scholar’s life, though he couldn’t exactly place his talon on why that was. He smiled while looking deep out into the arched window, suddenly feeling glad he was to return today and have such a delightful occasion held in his honour.
His eyes lit up as he suddenly remembered why he was here. He looked to the Major, who was now occupying himself in the menu with licked lips.
“Major Kederian. If it did not trouble you so, I would like a word with the Prince.”
Whether it was something he said or the Major didn’t speak in the same language, he simply looked at him with a confused expression and shook his head solemnly.
“That’s a negative, Prince Talos hasn’t returned yet.” He said scratching his chin, “Last thing I heard there was a pretty bad storm that went across the training camp where he was stationed. Too bad we can’t control the weather like the Equestrians can eh? He would’ve been crazy to miss a party like this.”
This came as a shock to the old Griffon, which just barely stopped himself from slamming the table. His eyes narrowed with suspicion; with all the signs present he should’ve seen this coming. Staring out the window, the moon looked back at him with the same paled expression, without a single cloud of a storm nearby to hide its dull glow.
“This entire evening was dedicated as part of the Prince’s inauguration to the Royal family for traditional military service.” Archimedes reasoned, “How could the foolish young officers in the military allow such a disrespectful act of impatience?”
Major Kederian fell silent, suddenly looking back and forth at his surroundings.
“You should take your own advice and be careful with the words you say” he warned, “I didn’t like the whole idea either but it was top brass that ordered it, and I mean top-of-the-pyramid brass.”
“The Emperor?”
Kederian nodded sadly, folding his arms. He was there when such a meeting concerning the matter was in session, and though the superior officers never spoke about it directly, there was enough implication to say that the Prince was getting the short end of the stick. As for reason, there was little to none. Now that he thought about it, he’d dismissed all the suspicious activity quite casually without too much thought, like how the meeting didn’t seem quite... scheduled.
“Order came down today by the way; to be frank it all seemed like an urgent call.” He added. He almost shed a tear as the stream of red liquid suddenly dried up; his beautiful 4 month ration now nothing but a past memory.
The Royal Alchemist pieced it together carefully: the excuses for the Prince’s absence, the premature revelry, it sure didn’t add up in a straight line. The flashing tint of festival lights glistened on his rounded spectacles, his azure eyes silently manifested his own dark conclusion. Hopefully he could cross out the possibility of a coup, the Prince showed great talent in leadership and promise among the public and inner circle. But the more the puzzle pieced together, the more holes were left. He clasped his claws on the table, his biggest gap lie in the most troublesome of all: the involvement of his Excellency didn’t seem to fit in anywhere.
“Hey, it’ll be alright. I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding. Maybe it’s just a complication with time; after all, Prince Talos wasn’t supposed to be here until next month. A sudden change of plans can lead to things screwing up.” The Major assured, “You’ve also seen the way they treat each other, I’m sure his Excellency has his reasons.”
His reasons, of course he had a reason, he always had a reason. In his own unrest, his Excellency did not act on lower appetites of thought, for the birth of some of the fiercest beasts the world ever knew, he never showed instinctual reason like love. Meticulous in nature and layered in design, that was reason in its highest form but also the most dangerous.
Wasn’t that right, brother?
He closed his eyes while humming softly. The moon still shone too brightly in his window sill for the hollow to enjoy the music, that soothing scale of rhythm and arpeggio of strings. He envied those still young enough to see the music without the mechanics; to live life without knowing the worry. Old birds like him were always quick to remind him of how they couldn’t; he hoped sincerely that was the case.
“Excuse me sirs, are you soldiers?” a voice called, “I’m afraid I’ve lost my way.”
Major Kederian turned quite happily in response to a feminine voice, and he found himself staring into the eyes of a young unicorn mare. She was placed in a light orange silken dress which matched her coat, along with a golden mane that shone like the desert sand. That kind of clothing was only reserved for the rich and privileged, as silk was a commodity that the Equestrians imported from the Griffon Empire in extremely small numbers.
Archimedes scowled, “I’m afraid this is not the best-“
“-what my friend meant to say,” Kederian interrupted abruptly, “Is of course, we’ll be happy to be at your service madam.” He responded kindly, pulling out a chair.
The pony smiled and thanked him graciously taking a seat. The stranger took no time at all to get comfortable, levitating wine glasses and pouring something out of her own personal flask which resembled a reddish, ethereal liquid. It was the spirit of drinking that bonded many individuals so, and Major Keredian was quick to accept her offer on the wine. Her levitation spoke to Archimedes in an impressive way, a magical grip that was so perfectly in sync even with so many objects in control at once, on top of that a strong source of energy radiating from her being- not an ordinary unicorn.
“So you said you were lost, do you mind telling us what you were looking for?” Archimedes questioned.
The flask was closed and her eyes suddenly sharpened into a mysterious gaze from that once helpless look in an instant. “Truthfully speaking o’ brother of his Excellency, I’m looking for a lot of things, destiny and premonition to put it simply. But first things first, introductions are definitely in order before we talk about that, don’t you agree doctor?”
Her violet magical glow encompassed her glass, stirring the wine gently, “If that even is your real profession,” She smirked innocently.
And just like that, the secret that the entire nation had been hiding suddenly became apparent to this one pony that they had not even known about 10 minutes ago. Kederian forced a lump down his throat, and between the two Archimedes spotted him slowly drawing his claw nearer to the hilt of his rapier in panic. He had a code to uphold which demanded all outsiders who knew of the secret to be silenced by any means necessary. They were rumours that some rogue griffons were in search for alchemical secrets; it was a possibility that she was part of this, but they couldn’t be serious if they revealed themselves so soon. No, this was something else.
Under the table he drew out the sleeve of his robe, revealing an array of triangular shapes. There was a central triangle which encompassed the double circle that surrounded it, and three smaller triangles which intersected its sides. The circle was carved into a thin concealable metal armguard; one touch was all it took to end it all.
No one in the crowd would notice.
The pony started to laugh, inciting a confused response from not only from Archimedes but the Major as well. “Oh it’s true when they say you griffons have no sense of humour. I’ve heard that you kill ponies that make such jokes. I could see it quite clearly on your faces, a priceless expression!”
She continued to laugh wholeheartedly in a very controlled and quiet manner. Keredian exchanged a nervous glance with Archimedes, who remained expressionless through the whole ordeal. His breathing intensified to a rapid hyperventilation at the thought of how close he was from lashing out. In the end he could only force a sigh and withdrew his weapon. In a normal situation he wouldn't have given her the benefit of the doubt, but if he done that now the whole situation would’ve been unnecessarily messy.
She should count herself lucky that she’s pretty, he thought to himself.
When she was finished with her fit, she wiped an imaginary tear from her eyes. “Please excuse my jests, I have a nasty habit of scaring folks I meet for the first time.”
“You said introductions were in order madam, I would like to know who you are and why you are here.”
Archimedes wasn’t amused by her act; the siren could sing all she wanted but he was going to force the information out one way or another. He still had his transmutation circle secretly unveiled with a dead-serious expression. A mask that hid something underneath was an experience that he studied with both his brother and his nephew to the smallest detail.
“Oh yes, I think you both deserved it.” She smiled kindly, “I am Destiny Lockhearth, and I have come as a representative from the capital city of Bardingburgh to serve as ambassador to your nation.” she levitated the insignia that was pinned to her silk: the golden hexagon of Concordia with the crossed hammers. At closer inspection by Archimedes revealed the symbol to be derived from pure gold.
“As for reason, I can’t say much other than curiosity.” She admitted, “For a famous scholar revered even in my own country, you like to act secluded from the scientific community.”
“I have my reasons for doing so,” Archimedes responded satisfyingly, covering his gauntlet.
Major Keredian, having relaxed once more, went back to his drinking. Concordia; he didn’t know much about that place, only what he had heard from brief military records. It was an empire that stretched for miles under the wrath of the desert sun, with towering spires and industrial mines. Yes, he knew that place well; the documents described it as a hell of thieves and bandits, the weak authority having no power to stop them from doing whatever they wished. The princess had long tried to establish military assistance, which the top brass always declined on their part.
That was until he had a sudden realization which he just remembered as soon as he saw the emblem. The emblem which he had never seen used as a form of representation or identification.
“Wait, so you’re telling me you’re serving as Concordia’s representative?”
“Yes, that’s true.” She replied, steadying herself from the sudden scare.
“But Concordia has never sent a representative to the Griffon Empire before. Doesn’t your Princess go to these ceremonies personally?” he asked. His voice was slurred from the alcohol but it was indeed a question that Archimedes wanted to know as well.
The mare turned silent, a sudden sadness falling over her once bright personality. “She has been involved in a very time-consuming arcane research project for quite some time now, her current state made it necessary for me to fill her place.” she explained gloomily. “I don’t like to admit it, but she has become obsessed with her work.”
Archimedes knew all too well about being obsessive with research, he did it numerously during his lifetime. Things rarely worked when the mind was tunnelled towards one singular goal: his alchemical experiments to turn water into fuel, the secret to understanding the flow of magical power, the ability to harness the power of celestial objects.
He sighed, a feeling of guilt building deep inside him.
And also the soul-binding medical transmutation, all complete failures.
“But it’s best if we not get into that kind of talk. After all, I came here to get to please our allies, not to bore them with stories.” Lockhearth said brightly, “I want to get to know more about the culture of Griffon society, I’m afraid I am not well versed in the subject.”
“Culture?”
“Yes, culture,” She looked around, searching for something, “Like these parties, you griffons sure know how to celebrate an event. Back at home we can hardly afford having these many guests, yet alone to provide them with such a lavish atmosphere.”
She started to doze off in a dreamy state, “The music, the food, oh it’s a wonderful combination- truly a symphony of delight.”
Major Keredian chuckled, “We’re flattered, but if you want a true example of how a real cultural occasion in the Griffon Empire works,” he took the wine flask and poured himself a glass with a suave smile, “you might need to bring a lot of this.”
The mare was the only one to laugh; Archimedes’ attention was focused elsewhere.
Destiny poured a glass for herself as well, striking a glass with the Major, “There’s so much to do, so much to see. I don’t know how someone couldn’t get distracted in all this.”
Distracted in all this…
Distracted in all this…
The alchemist’s breathing had ceased for a minute, his eyes wide open in disbelief. Of course, the formal occasion was just a ploy- a distraction to lure wary eyes elsewhere. He was a fool to believe to fall for such a simple trap, but had little time to regress into a state of lamentation- there was a chance he still had time.
The old scholar stood up from his seat, looking at the grand clock carved into the back walls of the palace. Thirty five minutes pass ten, only thirty five minutes since the festivity started.
“Major Keredian, we have business to attend to.” He announced.
He turned to the ambassador, slowly bowing with his wings, “My apologies Miss Lockhearth, the Major and I have lost our track of time, but it was a pleasure to talk with you this evening.”
Archimedes left it at that, disappearing into the crowd.
The confused Major hadn’t the luxury to think about these things, his old friend still counted as his ‘superior’. He promptly followed suite, but not before showing his gratitude with a kiss on her fore-hoof.
“Until next time, Destiny.”
The evening had taken its pace up a notch. The dances were much wilder and with slipping formality, the chatter of the crowd increased with greater magnitude. Griffons and ponies, each shared the dance floor with equal footing and there was no doubt a pleasurable air in the wind, some a romantic breeze. The conductor hushed its strings and motioned the musicians who would be more suited for such an air: the slow music of brass instrumentalists, who played their jazz under the dimmed light.
Within the ebb and flow of so many guests, nobody noticed two figures leaving, disappearing into the dark cloak of the night.
Archimedes stepped outside for what seemed like the longest time, feeling the cool rush of the night air on his white feathers. Out here, it was easy to tell just how hot it was inside; just as easy it was for pleasures to fool even a precise mind. He looked onward from the marble foundation where he stood, under the arched doorways which were guarded by the two stone figures of their founding fathers. As expected the entire city was at this occasion, even the poor and rich. The usual rush of flapping wings and beating air from patrol was not present at all, only a precarious silence. As expected, there were no lights in the city blocks, no sign of life.
Archimedes had already unfurled his wings when the Major, panting from suffocation amongst the crowds stopped him, grabbing the side of his robe, “Just hold on a minute there alchemist, what’s all this fuss about?”
He stayed silent for a brief second, “I suspect that they may be plotting to murder her.” He replied simply.
The major was lost for words, surely this time the old bird had lost his mind. He forced a weak laugh as if to believe this was some sick joke, but all he could see was that same grim expression he used. He was serious, but how was he supposed to believe such a story? He tried to think of something, anything that might say otherwise.
“B-but the Princess is safe, no souls but us know about her location.” He reasoned.
Archimedes had no doubt that somebody indeed knew, like there was a shadow out of place under the moonlit streets, moving like a ravenous hound that grew restless for its prey. An experienced actor knew every line and every detail of the stage, what the future held and the past that led to it. Logic reminded him that he was beginning to falter in his old age, but instinct told him that somewhere in these dark alleyways and deserted street apartments, something threatened the covenant of silence that was the night. An experienced actor knew clearly, should the settings change in form or a word spoken out of line; he would be the first to notice.
“Follow me Major, but keep your wings silent.” He instructed, taking off into the darkness.
He was at it again. Archimedes wasn’t the type to act within the parameters of what one would call “normal”, he was cautious and yet made every move in the correct way. He’d trusted the old coot for this long; he wouldn’t be military material if he would go back on that promise. Keredian quickly joined in his flight, catching the air beneath his wings.
Archimedes lead the way, flexing his wings with utmost stealth it was hard for the Major to see if he was still flying beside him when he looked ahead. Beneath him, he saw the shapes of a thousand houses and city blocks pass him by, just as his life seemed right now. He thought long and hard about what Archimedes had just said: that the secret they had harboured was suddenly in danger of being exposed, with his family honour placed on those stakes as well. His obvious worries were what the consequences would be, perhaps execution? With such a shocking thought lingering in his mind, he needed answers.
“If nothing else, could you just please tell me for heaven’s sake why you think the Princess is in danger? I’m kinda in the dark right now.”
Archimedes relented from full speed momentarily, his eyes as sharp as they were back when he was young. “You know the council has been searching for her, and they couldn’t have chosen a better day to finally enact their murderous plan.”
“We had it guarded remember? My troops were dispatched to guard the pla-“his voice trailed off, realizing finally why Archimedes was worried so.
Keredian looked down below once more. Suddenly he too had a nervous fear that wherever the darkness reigned, where every nook and cranny existed in the street below him, lie the chance of something out of nightmares to devour him. It was soldiers that serviced the grand festivals such as the one going on right now, and that meant by traditional law that many soldiers were given leave from their posts to attend the festival. Logically that would mean his soldiers who guarded her would’ve left too, and a drawbridge in their defences would be lowered for a hypothetical murderer to do away with his deed without being seen.
If that was the case, it all made sense- the Prince’s sudden change of plans to arrive prior to the planned day made the council panic, and in turn they had to proceed with their own plans earlier than expected: by effectively shutting down their own security and blockading the Prince from investigating it himself.
The only thing in his mind was how he had gotten mixed up in this.
When Prince Talos had left for his military training, Princess Talia was becoming ever so weaker under her illness. When word got out that the next heir of the kingdom was too weak to even lift a quill, stability showed the first signs of collapse. The mighty stone wall of order which the Griffon Empire built its pride upon began to crack, and with civil war on the verge of outbreak, political ties between its allies were becoming strained. Even with Talia at the foothold of the gates to death, the high council secretly planned to do away with her quietly, as to not fuel the unrest of the populous. The plan to murder her in cold blood was overheard by the Grand Alchemist, and in an effort to protect her he had her hidden away under the basement of an unused alchemical laboratory which Archimedes had owned.
He lowered his head with conflicted emotions: one of loyalty to her highness but also a presiding fear. Before his promotion to Major he acted as her personal bodyguard, and knew her well enough to help the Grand Alchemist with his plan.
“You’re sure about this? We could be just following a false trail.” He said hopefully, but at this point he was just trying to persuade himself.
“I do not want to believe it either old friend, but we cannot take any chances.” He said, securing his white cloak.
He performed a steep left aileron turn, tucking his wings to the side of his body for extra speed in a straight dive towards his target. There lay the secret location that had eluded the council for so many years: 23 Brittlewood Street on the edge of the lake. The whole place idealised the uneventful, and as such provided an excellent asylum; a shabby two-storey apartment block which had been converted into a makeshift laboratory. Archimedes had no use for such a place; it was only to be used for where he would research medical transmutation away from the eyes of the law. Tall brick walls surrounded the complex with a looming presence, leading one to question if a place was ever used to house dangerous criminals.
The two landed in what seemed like the middle of a ghost town, the sudden gust of air blowing about fallen leaves and whistling through the fissures in the timber floorboards. The old apartment greeted the two with quiet appraisal, an old musky smell of organic decomposition seeping their senses. The windows were stained beyond its years, no longer showing anything of clarity through all the green and black. Archimedes took a deep breath and led the Major to the front door.
“It sure looks a lot creepier at night doesn’t it?” Keredian remarked, dusting the old side rail with a talon.
Archimedes nodded and pushed open the door.
After an awful creaking which announced their presence to the whole world, the door relinquished the secret it held inside. There was firstly darkness, but as their eyes soon adjusted to the lack of light they saw what could only be described as a laboratory of misery. The room itself was quite small: measuring barely several meters in width, but wherever there was space there were spilled bottles over the floor, flasks and various pieces of glass tubing strewn about like shrapnel amongst other things but the most eye-catching detail about the place: the white chalk-drawn transmutation circle inscribed on the floor. It was a painting almost, charred wooden boards and the ashes of paper depicting a great battle: a battle to defy the natural order by a foolish mortal.
Archimedes viewed it with all remorse, with more of an inclination to let it just sink in. What he tried to do here was an unforgiveable one, a fool who dared to play God. There was no morality that you could hold on to when research as dark as this began to prosper, you had to let it go or risk being destroyed by it. 2 years ago, he made a promise to save the Princess’s life by means of ‘medical transmutation’- the code he used for trying to transmute the soul. He was weak, unwilling to try an act that all alchemical knowledge had forbidden. That day when he was to perform the transmutation, a trial run; which was responsible for the destruction of this lab, scared him into submission. There was a stake in his heart, a thorn that pierced all that he had known about himself and his veil of self-confidence. In deep shame he realized that day he was as his student had described him- ‘unable to change anything, because you don’t have the courage’
In truth, he never initiated the ritual, lying to her highness that it had failed. What kind of honour did he have left for himself? How could he forgive himself for abandoning her as well as his student? He pondered upon restless nights about it, and no matter the justification he knew he had selfishly saved his own life. In disgrace he protected her from the council, not because it was the least he could do, but because it was the only thing he would have done.
“Do you think me a coward Major?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t, it was smart not to do so. Heck, I don’t know the first thing about Alchemy but even to a normal guy like me,” he said, repulsing at the sight of some of the surviving research notes, “Transmuting a living soul seems unnatural, somewhat evil.”
He held up a lamp and searched for the sparker: a tiny ingenious device that was equipped with all lamps and lighters that required a talon to strike the surface of a small stone, thus producing its name-sake. It was a common misconception that Griffons, being the embodiment of the eagle, had eyesight comparable to that of night-vision. They were a species that were alive during the day, and slept under the cover of darkness just as the Equestrians did.
“Come on you stupid thing,”
Finally after a few attempts, the flame began to flicker and finally relinquished most of the darkness. The crimson light flickered on the shattered glass and even though the lamp burned with full capacity, the apartment room was still conspicuously dim. The two would soon wish that they had never seen such a horror, but the light of knowledge had revealed to them the truth, something far sinister than Archimedes had ever imagined.
Upon the runic circle was blood, smeared across like wild paintings. There were feathers dipped in the crimson lifeblood, stuck to the floor like the arrangement of some god-forsaken demonic ritual. The blood traced claw marks around the transmutation circle, like some vicious beast had ripped the victim apart. Only when he saw such a sight did the smell of it reach his attention, the pungent smell of death. Major Keredian looked on without too much of a shock, having military discipline to deal with these scenarios, but as he turned towards his colleague he could see he wasn’t handling well. Archimedes trembled violently at this sight, the sight of hell, clutching his chest while collapsing on the floor.
They were too late.
Keredian had never seen Archimedes get so emotional over something before, it was almost sad to watch. “We don’t have time to get sappy just yet, I see blood but I don’t see a body and that means there’s a chance she’s alive. We need to keep searching until we we’re absolutely sure.” The Major said assuredly.
I know that you moron, the alchemist thought. Underneath his robe his claw had finished scratching a transmutation circle. Whoever was hiding would take his time when he saw someone weeping as pathetically as he did. Judging by the way he mutilated the bodies from the blood, he could tell easily this fellow liked to relish in the cries of his victims. He was a true cold killer; taking pride in his work, and that would be his undoing.
“You were smart, whoever you are.” He smiled devilishly, “using an odourless gas like hydrogen was difficult to detect.” He called out loudly.
He slammed his talons on the circle, producing an electrifying reaction of blue lightning. The Major got down immediately, covering his head. The crackling sound of the reaction spread everywhere across the room, lighting up the place with sparks of energy. Keredian thought for sure that he was going to blow up the whole building, and braced for impact. It seemed like only a split second until the flash stopped, the glow of the transmutation array fading into darkness.
Keredian’s sudden rush of adrenaline slowly turned into confusion: there was a fine mist, a cloud of water vapour in the middle of a room. He pushed his talons into the formless thing before it dissipated, rubbing the water that accumulated on his claws. He clenched his talons and reached for his scabbard, because something told him that Archimedes hadn’t done that to have tea with whoever was here.
“Is there somebody you’d like to introduce to me?” he frowned, drawing out his blade.
He scanned the area, trying to spot something to no avail. Here, this perpetrator had the advantage of darkness as his cloak and weapon. He could strike wherever he pleased and disappear as fast he came out, and on top of the enemy could leave whenever he so pleased. He gestured to the alchemist a simple message using claw movements: stay back to back, protect our blind spot.
Now it was a game of who would make the first move. There was a dreadful silence which dripped with uncertainty, the only sounds the two griffons could hear the thumping of their own chest. They continued to take steps in a circle around the oil lamp, preventing their flank from being targeted. However, the more the dragged it out, the more the Major felt the enemy was breathing down his neck. Furthermore, he heard Archimedes say something about an odourless gas, which meant there was a chance he was also a transmutation-freak.
Then, a solemn voice called out from the darkness.
“Congratulations Grand Alchemist,”
The voice was unlike anything Archimedes had ever heard, but it resonated with something unearthly. He could see no face with that sound, only hollowness. It was an odd sensation to hear that voice, as if it weren’t here at all despite hearing the sound. He’d be lying if that didn’t send shivers down his spine. Drawing back his robe, he adjusted his alchemical armguard with caution.
“Speak, what have you done to the Princess?” Archimedes demanded. His expression darkened the clear-cut rationality of his former eyes, replaced by ones of killer instinct.
“What have I done? I have merely come to serve my duty, hardly trivial.” The thing replied outspokenly, “But I should’ve known better to underestimate the Grand Alchemist of the Griffon Empire.” It laughed maniacally, echoing each sadistic tone in his hollow voice, “the idea of transmuting hydrogen gas into water was quite… creative.”
Then, the air began to feel different, as if something from it was being pulled. Keredian looked to the shadows in bewilderment as the darkness was pulled away from its place; streaks of ethereal black in twisting shape all coming together in one area. For once in his life, Archimedes could not explain what was going on. What kind of monster was he facing here? He had divulged into thousands of alchemical and scientific studies had never had he read what kind of ungodly, supernatural force allowed a shadow to become a physical entity. “However, I’m afraid the games end here.”
“Keredian, go and find Talia and Talos. I will take care of this nuisance.”
“What? I can’t leave you here”
“Please listen to me Keredian, if they are in grave danger we don’t have much time.” He urged.
“I’m afraid I cannot allow you to do that.”
It finally manifested itself as a cloaked figure, the dark space beneath the hood as hollow as it sounded. Archimedes smirked; at least he was convenient enough to show him his physical form. He nodded to Keredian, and he burst into flight towards the basement trapdoor. He knew where it was hidden, but that thing stood in the way. He drew back his rapier and slammed the tip onto the ground.
The cloaked figure reached out to stop him, but kept his attention away from Archimedes for one second too long. The Grand Alchemist began to run straight towards him, sprinting with such speed and power that was unmatchable by a Griffon of his age. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, he was already at arm’s length from the hooded figure, knocking the hooded figure aside with a convincing side kick.
Hardly anyone recognized him as a sort of griffon who would take up martial arts, but as a young alchemist he believed strength could win him favour with his father, but that was for another time.
Kerdian seized the opportunity, using the flexible blade of his rapier as a catapult to propel himself over the hooded one and landing with a thud on the other side of the room. “I’ll see you on the other side, don’t you die to this fool, you hear?” He rooted before running out of sight.
Save for the temporary stumbling, the thing didn’t look fazed at all, or rather the body movement didn’t suggest he was hurt despite adjusting the force to cripple a normal griffon. Readying his gauntlet he pulled his arm back in preparation to strike. The figure was not a fool to fall for a surprise again and quickly parried his talons aside with relative ease. He hastened his movement immediately; attempting shorter and faster assaults that wouldn’t give him the time to counterattack but the thing had incredible, almost unnatural reflexes that managed to evade all his attacks. Archimedes gave himself some distance with his opponent, a ragged breath escaping his beak from his age. He recomposed himself, rethinking his options carefully. Close quarters combat was no stranger to this thing, and frontal assaults could not find a crack in his defence lest he be weakened by his own attacks.
In other words, it was all or nothing. With a shout he lunged himself like a spear at him, and at that moment there was a satisfaction in Archimedes’ eyes as he saw the first hint of hesitation in his movement. The two collided like great figures in history, his claws digging deep into the limbs of his enemy as they wrestled on the floor. Sharp black talons protruded from that cloak of his, and Archimedes could finally the stranger’s blood red eyes that held his silent gaze.
He did not stop to ask why he was willing to carry out these unholy acts, nor did he consult with his reasoning to keep him alive. It didn’t matter to him if this thing was his blood or kin; the only thing he wanted was his existence to be erased. At that moment the alchemical transmutation array on the gauntlet began to glow. “Even when I have you at my mercy, you still have the nerve the underestimate me.”
He fixed his gaze into whatever void this thing had inside, wondering what evil thoughts manifested in that being of his. “I was not appointed as Grand Alchemist for my creativity, monster.” Archimedes whispered, “My appointment was due to a special brand of alchemy, one that goes beyond the building blocks of matter.”
He channelled the energy with a fraction more concentration, releasing it completely.
“Disappear.”
The gauntlet began to spark, and from the wound where he had stabbed him a series of glowing runes began to inscribe itself, growing like vines until it spread all across the stranger’s cloak. He was mad to use such alchemy in such a confined area, but it was all worth it to see those eyes begin to panic; the eyes that held such contempt in murder.
He could see purplish electricity piercing his enemy from the core, directing every pulse of energy that flowed in the transmutation in a funnel against his target. There was an influx of power that was exhilarating to hold, to feel so much energy and yet have the control to restrict it from discharging all at once. This was alchemy in its most advanced, dangerous and wholly unstable: the infamous violet lightning.
Then white, a flash of purity so bright it illuminated the entire neighbourhood for a split second, following the crack of thunder that shook the foundations of this ground. Archimedes was lost in his blinding vision, unable to see what was in front of him or who was beside him. For one small blissful moment, he believed he was in heaven until mortality struck him down again for such sinful thoughts, his vision returning in a bath of odd colours.
“I thought those rumours were false, but it seems as though you’re full of surprises.”
The alchemist exhaled deeply, a prick growing inside his head, now he really was a nuisance. He stared into deep space, his arms numb and trembling from their exertion. Had he made a mistake or did this thing simply refuse to follow the laws of nature? If it was the former a disintegrated body that talked was not the usual reaction Archimedes was expecting, he should’ve died instantaneously.
Archimedes flexed his talons to feel nothing but cloth, or whatever scarred pieces remained of it. The whole area around where the monster’s body laid was blown off the face of the earth, the gaping hole in the wall allowing the cold night to sweep underneath fluttering papers. That would explain something. He knew there was something strange when his arms and legs made contact with that being. At no time did he feel anything resisting against his attacks, like whatever he was hitting felt like it didn’t have any mass at all. His trump card, used imprudently against a puppet.
“You missed.”
He clutched his side, struggling to keep words of pain from showing him weakness. He could feel several of his muscles torn from the experience, the shockwave from the energy had caused severe internal damage. Archimedes collapsed on the floor, struggling to breathe between each painful second. He crawled on his side with a grunt and saw the glowing red eye of his assailant still hiding as he always was, in the darkness.
“You griffons always end up killing yourselves before I can get a chance to do anything.” He commented dryly.
“What are… you?” he gritted.
Two dark horizons narrowed that crimson view, a small hiss escaping from him. “I am what you alchemists have been searching for centuries; I am the answer to the Philosophy of One”
Being an alchemist, he knew what it meant. However the prospect of it made him chuckle and he grinned back at death with mockery.
“You claim to be perfection then? Don’t make me laugh. Another foolish alchemist who claims he has he found the answer to the Philosophy. You should know I have seen countless of these failures, and you are no exception.” He sneered at him with honest pity, “Mortals who claim to be God will suffer for their conceit. You cannot create without consequence; that is the unbound law of the universe.”
The stranger’s face twisted into an expression of sadistic joy. “This all sounds very hypocritical Archimedes.” A black talon revealed itself from the darkness and pointed at the ground. “Because that’s exactly what your student has done: he claimed to be God and suffered for his conceit.”
Archimedes’ face had grown completely still, why was he not surprised to hear that the Prince was here too? His face clenched into a face of utter frustration. Not only had he failed to protect Talia, now this thing claimed that he held his student hostage. He spent his entire life to protect him from harm’s way and he had failed in that sole responsibility. Imagining the voice in his mind, he struggled to get the dreadful conclusions out of his mind when he spoke of ‘God’. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Talos had committed what was most forbidden in alchemy. He would never have done it, could he?
“What have you done to him, and what do you mean he has tried to play God?!” he demanded. He had shown weakness in panic, and in doing so he surrendered his valour to him. The dark figure cackled again, having just the response he wanted to hear. It was rare to see such a powerful spirit, and to break it was just as satisfying. He loved seeing that expression, the one that begged for mercy, the crying and the helpless call for someone to save them from their despair. Mortals had such fragility within them; all it took was a weakness to destroy it.
“I have wasted enough of my time. Unfortunately I do not have the honour of killing the Grand Alchemist.” He said in a slightly displeasing tone, “But rejoice, for your demise will come in due time.”
With that final warning, he simply disappeared into a mist of darkness.
It left only Archimedes with dark, burning questions. However there were more pressing matters he had to attend before he got onto with that rubbish. He quickly stumbled to his feet, holding onto his shoulder as he stumbled across the destroyed room with only one thing on his mind, he needed to find the Prince; he needed to make sure he was safe.
He trudged against a sea of books and papers, the old walls of the house closing in on him. They seduced him to sleep, to lay his tired head to rest. The darkness whispered to him to forget about his troublesome past, there was always a bright future ahead – all he had to do was run away, run away from the past. The air was so cold, why as it so cold?
Come on master, you said I had more runes to memorize.
His tiresome eyes widened. He could hear his voice, faint traces of memory that called out to him. His student was calling out to him, for the first time he was asking for his help.
Master; those girls are never going to like you. After all, you smell like old beans.”
He roared out in anguish, kicking down doors that stood in his way. In the endless labyrinth of hallways, the basement door was right there, standing open for him. He just ran for it, paying no heed to the pain that ached in his body or the warning that rung in his head.
“Master Archimedes, do you honestly consider me as your prodigy or is that a lie?”
No, you are my brilliant prodigy, he answered smiling. A single tear matted his feather with dampness as he reached towards the gate of truth. For once he would be young, let his heart soar free from his worries and have the strength to move forward even when there was nothing to hope for. Prince Talos was alright, he would be alive.
He opened the door and stepped inside.
He looked inside to see the picture of his dreams, a smiling photo of his family in the sunny plains. But there was no such thing in reality for sinners, which was the painful truth.
Inside, Archimedes saw not his dreams- he saw his nightmare. The small basement room, the hospital room where he kept Talia alive whatever necessary was in ruin, everything from tables and drawers pushed to the side. All he could see was the transmutation circle that was cleared in the centre of the room, a circle drawn in blood with the most complex array he had ever seen. He saw the outline of the Prince, the young and energetic prince in his memory reduced to a weeping mess in the middle of the transmutation circle, crying with dry tears.
“I’m afraid we were too late Archimedes.” a voice called.
The alchemist turned to see his companion sitting down in the corner, his clothes torn off in rags. He was at the verge of tears holding onto something; something grey and sickly. On the neck of the lifeless mass hung a tiny clay pendant, a promise inscribed in the middle. The arm, something connected to it, held onto it tightly even without its spark. It was the body of Princess Talia, her body in a state indescribable and very much dead.
“I-I tried everything, but she wouldn’t wake. He was in here with her body and kept screaming.” He spluttered. “He wouldn’t let go of the body until I talked him out of it. I did the best I could to heal his wounds; the least I could do was to stop his bleeding.
“Wounds?” Archimedes demanded, his voice rising.
The Major seemed hesitant to speak, and he replied with a voice of such grievance he turned away from Archimedes’ gaze.
“His wings, his wings have been cut off completely.”
Wings were a gift; they allowed the soul to become free from the chains of the earth. Griffons were creatures of the air, and for Archimedes to hear that Talos had been robbed of his flight. One could hear his heart breaking into two as he rushed for the Prince.
There was a pool of blood around his mangled body, his clothes soaked in the crimson liquid and his body twitching uncontrollably. Archimedes knew his feathers would be stained with this blood forever; his guilt would become his chains. What reason drove him to do it, he would never know. However, it was clear to him that this transmutation was drawn by Talos as a part of the taboo: soul transmutation. As alchemists, they adhered to equivalent exchange; the gain something through sacrifice of equal value. Talos had tried to gain the most priceless article in the universe, and had paid dearly.
Archimedes lifted Talos onto his knees and they looked at each other for a long time, for the longest in years. His innocence was long gone, a face a fear and death replacing it and his eyes became as dull and lifeless as rocks. What could he say now to the face of a ten year old fledgling that had seen hell with his own eyes? Why did it have be someone so young? He tried in vain and foolishness to keep reality hidden from him and in the end he searched for it on his own. All he could do now was embrace him, throwing his arms around him in a tearful enfold patting his back.
The boy cried, and Archimedes continued to pat his back.
“It’ll be alright, you’re safe now.”
