Book 9: Chapter 54: C

Book 9: Chapter 54: C

[I am on break to finish writing Gravesong, Book 2! And for my usual break. I will be back hopefully mid-August. See Authors Note for details.]

(My friend Quill has released a new book: The Novice, Book 1 of the Firebrand series! Check it out /Firebrand-Novice-Adventure-D-Olesen-ebook/dp/B0BVC83PV7/

(Martel has only one wish: to become a weathermage to ensure good harvest for his people. However, he is too old for the Imperial capitals school of magic at sixteen years old. He is also fire-touched, the exact opposite of what he wants and a secret he has to protect or else be used in the Empires endless wars.)

Rhaldon Flemmens had decided he liked this other world for three reasons.

One. This world didnt have people shooting him for attending a protest rally. He still woke up, remembering that flash and explosion as he was shot in public.

Two. This world was filled with magic, other species, and opened up a thousand possibilities. If this world existed, how many others? Could there be true aliens? Was this all part of somelarger design or sci-fi-esque plan? It made him feel like a boy again, dreaming of the impossible without a sense of painful, mundane reality.

And threethis world had alchemy, and alchemy called to him. Nochemistry called to him. Yet in this world, there was no chemistry, only alchemy.

He had resolved himself, at last, in these months of winter, to be the one to marry chemistry to alchemy. At last, he felt like he was ready to even attempt this. It might kill him, but if it did, it would be because he made a mistake. Alchemy was unpredictable. Chemistry was

Okay, it could get unpredictable too. But he thought he knew more rules than any [Alchemist] living. And finding out whether his knowledge held true?

That was going to be a lot of fun.

Rhaldon was a chemist. Not a [Chemist]the world had not seen fit to reward him for his knowledge from Earth.

Yet he was one. He had graduated with a Bachelor of Science from the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor for chemistry, minoring in geology, and had been taking post-grad courses in Applied Chemistry while working as a research assistant. The University of Michigan hadnt offered the course for a long time, though they had a great equality and diversity program that Rhaldon had taken advantage of.

The Applied Chemistry courses started getting offered when two other major universities shut down due to the Spirited Generation event gaining traction, and they were singled out as hotspots or worse, being part of it. That had been a safety concernthey had still shut down the entire terminal in the Melbourne airport.

Hed been doing undergraduate research in a laboratory throughout getting his bachelors, and he had been working on a Master of Science degree, which meant he had enough experience in actual application of the scientific method. Rhaldon suspected that few people had that kind of background if the other Earthers were around his age.

He was not qualified to call himself an expert by any means, but Rhaldon would have bet all the money hed earned working as a [Wagon Driver] that his knowledge of actual lab procedures and chemical knowledge exceeded that of anyone else from home.

Not that he knew how many there were or where they were. Rhaldons only clue was that thousands of young people his age or younger had been going missing back home. Conspiracy theories had actually been rightwell, the handful of them that had suggested this was some kind of interdimensional travel.

Home was tough. He often thought about marching up to Erin Solstice, or more likely Kevin or Joseph or Imani, telling them he was from Earth, and asking to talk. But Rhaldon couldnt quite be sure if they would welcome him, and he didnt want to do it, if he was honest.

Multiple reasons. Hed been making lists, and the [Wagon Driver] scribbled on one as he hunched over in the snow, driving a very tightly packed wagon down one of the trade roads heading south towards Invrisil.

It was cold and wet, and his horses grumbled, but hed patted them down well, and they had a thick winter coat. Rhaldon was only a Level 15 [Wagon Driver], but since hed reached that level in one year, Termin called him a prodigy.

Lists. Rhaldon had three notepads hed bought with his first paychecks, and writing with a quill and inkpot sucked, but hed learned. First, he had personal notes, thoughts, a way of organizing his worlds history and this ones. Second, he had a list of all the ingredients he bought for his clientele, notes of stores, prices, so he could haggle, understand where things came from, and know how much he had paid historically. He obsessively updated the lists, and Termin himself had said that keeping a notepad was a wise move if Rhaldon became a specialist driver for [Alchemists].

Not all [Drivers] could read and write at a high level, so Rhaldon had kept his lists to himself. Driving was another world entirely with feuds and territory, and he might have gotten himself in trouble if he made enemies.

Being Termins apprentice already made him stand out, but he had lucked into the alchemy-driving job. No one wanted it, and hed actually gotten some approval for taking on the job that was exceptionally risky and arguably unprofitable.

You could have your wagon explode if you took volatile ingredients, the margins werent that high all the time, [Alchemists] were unpleasant to work with, oh, and if you made a mistake, an explosion was the worst case scenario, but having a bunch of ruined ingredients due to rot or something else also made it miserable. Rhaldon realized it was so unpleasant that hed actually made a name for himself just by doing decent deliveries for two months.

He had eight clients already who knew him by name, and Rhaldon actually got to ask them questions, which helped his third list:

Alchemy. Or was it chemistry? Rhaldon decided to call it alchemy, because he didnt have enough knowledge to break down any of his observations into compounds or formulas that would be useful on Earth. Everything [Alchemists] did was more imprecise, more volatile, and frankly, more powerful than stuff back home.

Magic meant that, while you could blow a laboratory to shreds if you were insanely stupid back home, you could level a city block here. You could create mustard gas on Earth. Here? You could, apparently, create an acid cloud that wouldnt disperse and would float around until it was diluted by rain or water magic.

In short, alchemy got scary, but it was just a matter of magnitude; invisible gas killing you was just as real in this world as Earth, and Rhaldon was making notes of all the alchemical formulas he learned as well as what ingredients didand wracking his brain to write down every single compound, note, and more in his third journal.

Hed already done the basics like the periodic table, and hed given up trying to verify how many divergences it had from this world. Magic, again, messed with the very nature of things.

But back to lists. Rhaldons first list had his reasons why he didnt want to tell Erin he was from her world.

1. Is it safe? Her inn has been blown up 2 3 times. Attacked by Crelers. There are spies everywhere, and at least one famous [Grand Strategist] (Chaldion) attends her inn. Risks of kidnapping, attacks, etc.

2. What am I offering? I dont have any levels in my actual field of expertise yet. It would be good to be valuable.

3. What are the sides? Thinking on it, are there sides? Wistram, Cara the Singer, ErinI should be careful about introducing concepts. Like gas-warfare, which is apparently in use already.

Izril was an oddly feudal society mixed with modern-style culture. There were [Lords] and [Ladies], and Walled Cities with their military-style organizations that Rhaldon had observed.

History told him that a valuable engineer could often be co-opted by someone to build, oh, trebuchets and that being too useful might make him a target. Rhaldons game plan was to fly under the radar, and Erin Solstices inn would not help with that.

Establishing himself as a simple [Alchemist] without outside help wouldnt attract much attention, and while it was true he could have used gold and a buildinghe didnt know how alchemy worked. Working as a [Driver] had allowed him to observe procedure and get multiple perspectives, and so Rhaldon had kept undercover for now.

But there was a fourth reason, and Rhaldon guiltily wrote it down, brushing snow from the crude paper of his journal as he saw lights in the distance. Invrisil approached, and the two-day ride had been harsh, unpleasant, and coldbut he stuck to it, saving coins, marking what to buy, compiling lists, and writing up procedures and ideas for his first big attempt at alchemy for the final reason.

4. I want to do it myself. I want to make a magic potion with knowledge from home and make it better than anyone from this world. Itsfun.

(If I die, this was a bad idea.)

He stared at that last part and smiled. Well, he was preparing first. And again, he had a perfect window into alchemy. But the impetus that thrust him forwards actually came at the start of the month, when Termin took him on a dual-drive through the north.

The chemist in him rejoiced. But the Rhaldon of this world, the [Driver], sometimes appreciated the fact that he was a [Driver]. No matter how humble. Because it made him reconsider his optimism sometimes, his wild wonders and excitement. This was not bad. It was realism. Sometimes you had to look and see things from another perspective, and in hindsight?

A world of possibilities awaited. Yet if only the world could be more of a fantasy story. Rhaldon was not a huge reader at the moment, but he had read some of the classics. He had also gotten into the popular stories of the time, and he wished, in hindsight, hed entered into a story closer to Lord of the Rings rather than what he took to be more of a Game of Thrones.

Or maybe Narnia. He tended to forget that terrible things happened in Narnia too, but at the end of the day, these were stories with vivid good and evil.

The hit television show that had swept his nation had been different. For one thing, sex was had in Game of Thrones. It was political, gritty. People starved to death, and the suffering was different. In Lord of the Rings, armies of evil Orcs swept Middle Earth, and it seemed like the end times, yes.

In Game of Thrones, people pushed children out windows.

If this world were a fantasy, it had that kind of realism to Rhaldon. When a kindly [Driver] had hopped down from the wagon and healed him with a potion as he lay bleeding from a gunshot wound, hed mistaken this world for a better one.

As it turned outhe was wrong. It was just like home. People were, currently, freezing to death in the winter. Or starving. Or both.

It wasnt obvious around Liscor or the bigger cities. But there was this feeling, as Rhaldon and Termin stopped along their journeys, especially when they drove together, of a pinch in the air.

The city of Reizmelt was a prosperous one. Rhaldon knew it as a destination on his mapit hadnt been that popular, but the Wind Runners city got tourists and had a bunch of colorful sails, and the people were even wearing variations of Ryokas windsuit.

No one had managed the gliders yet, but they were trying. It had that spirit of invention, and more than one person had asked how far to Invrisilbut their real goal was Pallass where Felkhr, the [Visionary of Flight], was.

Termin had actually arranged for a few passengers to head south. He had an eye for people, and whereas Rhaldon was just doing alchemy runs, he varied his work.

But he paused as he bought them food at one of the inns. Rhaldon hadnt said anything, but Termin stared at a loaded soup thatd come for six copper coins for the two of them and began to pick at it with his spoon.

Strange. The prices have skyrocketed. It shouldnt be this bad. This is Reizmelt. Scuse me, miss. There aint much meat in here.

It was a bit of an aggressive statement to the embarrassed [Barmaid], but Termin had found just a few slivers of meat. And it was a mostly corn-based soup. Chopped up corn, barleyand virtually no meat.

Im so sorry, sir, but theres not much to be had. Unless you want to risk Mad Madains innhes the only person who can hunt game regularly.

What about farm animals?

She paused as Termin frowned. Any city had good farmers, but in this case

We used to get some nice ones from the val Lischelles. You know them? Well, theyre gone, the Bakhearts are out of businesstheir barn burnedand the [Hunters] cant get out there half as much. Mostve our corn is from Farmer Lupp, and its only cause hes selling it cheap despite it being fancy. Try the soup. Its good.

It was indeed. Savory and sweet, and Termins discontent fadedbut his palpable unease grew.

I know them val Lischelles. Theyre down at Liscor. Whats this about a burned farm? Seems like a lot of fires have been going around.

Hed been listening in each village, and it seemed like they couldnt reach a city without hearing about an arson attempt. Or sickness in the animals.

Lack of quality meat was a symptom of that, or sparse food for good coin. Six copper could get you a fat bowl with enough to fill you up or two cheap bowls. In this case, Rhaldon suspected they might have to pay for some bread to fill their stomachs or snack on their rations.

You think this is bad? At least weve got farms. People depended on the Bakhearts and val Lischelles. Itll be lean until someone high-level replaces them. Farmer Lupp and his amazing corn has to feed a lotta people.

High-level. It was weird for someone to describe the issue like that, but Rhaldon equated it to a major company back home. Only, a single [Farmer] could produce the output of a dozen fields for every one of his. It sort of balanced out given the lack of mechanization, but this world had a fragility to it.

If someone high-level died or moved, an area suffered. Termin thanked the [Barmaid] and bought them some pumpernickel bread with butter. He frowned at the one copper charge for the butter, but tipped her with four coppers anyways, which got them a smile and the bread in moments. Then he frowned and whispered to Rhaldon.

That aint good. If a bigger city like Reizmelt starts tightening its belt, someones dying in another village. Ill put a word into the Drivers Guild.

To do what? Put more offers out to sell grain or transport it around?

Termin gave Rhaldon a blink of surprise, then a morose look. He adjusted his warm cap over his white hair.

Yeah. Thats a good job. Chaoisa runs them through snow, and that [Emperor] fellows taking care of his area. But I meantkeep [Drivers] away from outlying villages. Poor, desperate folk? They turn to [Bandits] in a blink of an eye. You stay clear when youre doing your deliveries. If they think youre carrying riches, theyll mug you.

Rhaldon didnt know how to respond to that. Termin chewed on his corn, then smiled at the bread.

At least this fluffs up nice, hey? That baking stuff from Liscors even gone here.

Baking stuff?

Rhaldon blinked and sat up, and Termin waved a hand.

Baking soda, they call it. I brought some north and sold it right off. Paid for some high-quality liniment for Foxs back leg, so it did. It came from Erinhah, so much does.

She invented baking soda? Thatsgreat!

Rhaldon stared at the bread, and his heart leapt at the notion that someone hadno, she had done that. Termin smiledthen frowned again at the meat.

Yep. If only it made more bread, there wouldnt be this problem. Not many [Hunters]? You can always find a Corusdeer, though. And theres wild boars, foraging for winter cropswhys meat so hard to get?

Another odd question. Rhaldon just assumed there werent many animals around Reizmelt, but Termin knew the landscape. He fished out a Drivers Map and pointed at it.

Reizmelt is loved for foragers and travel, Rhaldon. See that swamp north? Highlands hereits got everything from Wailer Toads, the bastards, to forests where the val Lischelles lived. Master herders. If youre hungry, you can eat toad.

Eugh. How big are they?

Biggest frog legs youve ever seen. Some settlements up north eat and sellwell, theyre a taste. Why cant the [Hunters] go after them? Its dangerous, but if there are fifteen [Hunters] sitting around without a Corusdeer, theyll shoot a frog, and thats still income. You fancy a stop at the Hunters Guild first?

They called him Termin the Omnipresent, but Rhaldon had also heard Termin the Omniscient used because people forgot the difference between the two and because the old [Wagon Driver] had an extensive knowledge of, well, how the world worked.

He had seen enough cities and towns to have a sense whether they had secrets, higher-than-average crime, or other oddities to them, and he was curious.

So curious that the two stopped at the local Hunters Guild, another fixture of cities. Not that many people, even Erin Solstice, had made use of them.

They werent Adventurers Guilds. Some were even just lodges outside of cities where people talked shop, traded tips on where herds were moving, and bought and sold animal parts.

Not monster parts. [Hunters] liked setting up false blinds, which hid them or made animals think another of their kind was around. They worked on fishing lures or birdcallsand stayed the hell away from monsters.

A few [Hunters] eventually got sick of running from local monsters and thus began to hunt them, but in general, [Hunters] were lower-level and procured meat, hides, and lived safer lives.

However. A difference had emerged between them and another famous [Hunter], Mad Madain, and it was the reason why only his inn had hot, fresh meat that wasnt sourced from a farm animal.

Hunting? Are you mad? We cant go afield! Anything not in a days travel from Reizmelt has been caught. Its barely worth the effort of getting frostbite traveling to a village to stake out and hunt from there!

A snappish [Hunter] nearly bit their heads off when Termin went to investigate. Rhaldon noticed the [Hunter] was shivering, covered in snow, and back from a failed hunt.

Youre not camping out?

We cant. Mad Madains the only one who can afford to do it. Not that he has a problemthe crazy bastards Gold-rank, and he could walk naked in the cold with his javelins.

The [Bush Hunter] was a camouflage expert, used to lying in wait, and he still had some branches tied to the cloak he wore that looked like an actual bush if you stood too far back. He was doubtless fairly good at what he didbut he couldnt get out there and do his job.

The problem was potions.

Youre Drivers. Is there a shortage of Potions of Warmth or something? The prices are threefold, and well lose money unless we bag an animal each time!

Termin stopped sharing around some dry cookies hed brought from Liscor, and his eyes slid over to Rhaldon. The younger [Wagon Driver] gulped.

Garbichugs ruined a shipment of em. Theres been issues with supply. Salamander skins are expensive, so its driving the price up. But theyre not the worst to buyare prices that high?

Another cold [Hunter] glared over from the fire.

Maybe its cheaper where you go, Mister Driver, but we dont drown in alchemists. Plus, there was a run on them earlier this winter. Everyone who went to the New Lands bought them up. I tell you what. You want meat in your stews? Bring us some Warmth Potions, and Reizmeltll fill your bowl every time you visit!

The challenge just made Termin casually adjust his cap.

I may do just that. Its not that dear from Pallass, though I can see you lot would eat through them.

One potion lasts eight hours. Its too expensive to chug them, but sleeping in the colds hellish. If we had better potions, it wouldnt be so bad, but you can taste the dirt in the cheap ones locally. I know one of the [Alchemists], and he doesnt wash anything he boils up

Rhaldon listened to the complaining and Termins questions about the mysterious farm burnings. And he could do nothing about that, and nor was he a good driver. But as he sat there, a longing came over him.

Perhaps

It was time.

Hey, Rhaldon! You made it! I am so sorry about LiskaI was at work andhere, come in, come in! I, uh, let me get you something.

Octavia Cotton was the first [Alchemist] that Rhaldon had known. He was still shivering after nearly two hoursgetting his wagon through the gates, past inspection, took time. Signing into the Drivers Guild and getting the horses tended to? More time.

Then there was a damn line at the inn, and the Gnoll girl had given him a hard time asking if he was trying to get into the beach until he showed her his Drivers badge. Octavia had had to come out, so hed stood out in the snow by the door next to the checkpoint for twenty minutes.

Its f-fine, Octavia. I just hope nothings frozen. I tried to stand in the warmth.

Octavia rushed him into Stitchworks, her laboratory-shop, and he put down a big crate of her goods at last. She rushed around anxiously as he unpacked the items out of the straw where they were being held.

I hope not! Uhuhhere!

She came back with a mug of hot coffee and what turned out to be a spicy tart, still steaming from the kitchens. Rhaldon took both greedily, but he and Octavia checked on the delivery first.

Lets seeoh, is that my sand? Thanks. And the cotton?

Pure and fresh. Ive actually got a bunch for Pallass, too.

Octavia snapped her fingers as Rhaldon took the less-valuable stuff out of a second, less-well-packed box. There was actual sand, too, and he had to go back for a heavy bag of it.

Actually, erwe have a lot of sand around. Im sorry! Erin got some nice beach sand, but shell probably get mad if I steal it, and this is far purer. Hers has probably got cat poo and stuff in it.

Sand?

Rhaldon had heard about the beach but not seen it, and Octavia caught him up as they checked on his delivery. There was always something new in the inn, and he imagined the beach and sighed.

I couldtry to get you a ticket. Youve done me a huge favor.

No, no. I have to deliver the rest to Pallass and

You sure? Erin might even give you a room. Its cold out, and youre my best driver.

He was hugely tempted, but Rhaldon was keeping out of Erins sight as much as possible. He wasnt exactly afraid of her

He was just a tiny bit terrified, that was all.

Erin Solstice, one of the first people to vanish. Hed seen her name on the list of missing people; there were master lists as well as ones by state and country. She was one of the more famous originalsthese days, the list was updated with people whod been reported missing but shown up or run afoul of more mundane, if often tragic, accidents.

But Erin Solstice was one of the confirmed cases, like the Melbourne Students, who had disappeared live on camera. She had vanished from her home while both her parents were there, her father downstairs, and while she could have, in theory, gone out her bedroom or bathroom window, why would she?

She was a famous chess player, a former National Master in chess at the age of 13 whod quit and had been working her way back up the rankings when she vanished. He had no idea what it meant, but she was a chess prodigy, and she had been spotlighted in news reports when the Spirited Generation had been first reported on.

Now, she was here, an [Innkeeper], and she looked too young for someone who would have been twenty-fiveand too old, as well. Time had changed her. She had a flaming hat, and she was intense.

Hed seen her playing chess against the world, and even if it had been an illusionshe scared him. So he declined Octavias offer, and the [Alchemist] let it drop.T/his chapter is updated by nov(ê(l)biin.co/m

But she did get him a bowl of hot Corusdeer soup and an entire baguette, which he thanked her for. Octavia grinned at him.

Us foreigners have to stick together. And like I said, I had to hire City Runners or [Drivers] who jostled everything around and treated everything like itd explodeeven the cotton! Looks like nothings frozen.

What Octavia ordered from Rhaldon was fascinating. She got a lot of what he would term normal alchemy stuff, which was what even laypeople understood as salamander skins, Eir Gelwhen it was availableSages Grass, purified water, real purified water, which was different from Earths distilled water, and so on. Clearly magical things.

But there was also justbeach sandcarefully sievedcotton, high-quality charcoal, and glassware, things Rhaldon recognized as tools of chemistry. That made him hopeful he could copy alchemist techniques because he saw what alchemists were trying.

And the last stuff was just the foundation of chemistry in his world. Certain kinds of alcohol, like the jars hed brought from a brewery in the north. They were a bit cold, but nothing had cracked, and Octavia reviewed the other ingredients with a huge sigh of relief.

Rhaldon, you are a lifesaver. Let me get you your sealand a tip! I know youve got to go to Pallasscareful, its slippery. Do, uh, the other [Alchemists] treat you well? I hope they tip.

She looked slightly awkward as she asked, and Rhaldon paused before answering.

They mostly tip, Octavia. Though a few are prickly. A lot tell me Im reliable, and Im earning their trust.

She smiled and nodded as she placed a gold coin down as a tip.

Well, just dont work exclusively for them, please? We all need a good driver, and youre not grumpy, and you actually store ingredients for travel. I wont keep you waitingunless you want something more to eat?

Rhaldon had eight clients so far, but three were more just cities he went to where a number of [Alchemists] wanted his products. He had five [Alchemists] he regularly visited and knew by name.

They were:

-Octavia in The Wandering Inn, an up-and-coming [Alchemist] closely tied to Erin. She was most friendly and often gave him tips.

-Saliss and Xif of Pallass, both top-level masters who had gotten to know Rhaldon through Octavia. Both appreciated him doing deliveries, and while they relied on Couriers, they too liked using his services.

-Alchemist Itimen in the town of Feindel, close to Invrisil. He was known as a radical experimenter, but he was the top master in his region.

-Zeomtoril, a [Genius Polymath] and the northernmost client that Rhaldon visited along the road from Invrisil, heading east. He was prickly, arrogant, and didnt tip, but he paid a lot for someone to deliver to the mansion of Lord Calidus Reinhart.

All five were Rhaldons contacts, and they had latched onto him as the only real driver in the field. Mostly because Rhaldon understood basic storage procedures from Earth.

I dont know how you do it, Rhaldon. I tried to run a delivery for that bastard, Zeomtoril, and he cursed me out for three hours for delivering his goods frozen. Frozen? Its winter, and he wanted some pieces of broken up ore! Whats the problem?

One of the younger [Drivers] confessed one time at the Drivers Guild. Rhaldon could just imagine how bad itd been. He paused as the sandy-haired [Driver] complained.

Was it all broken up into pieces?

Yes! I got a bag from some [Miners] who said it was quality stuff. Well, it was a [Sifter] who did it. I didnt even know that was a class.

Howd you take it?

Big bag. One per each kinda ore.

Hemp? What kind of bag?

The other [Driver] scratched at his head.

What kind ofdid it matter?

Rhaldon spoke to him and a few [Drivers] who had also gathered to complain about the alchemy run.

I dont think Zeomtoril said it, but next time, you should get a big glass jar and fill it with cotton. Keep it packed in straw and airtight. He was probably mad because water got into the ore dust, and hell have to dry it out. Same with anything else, really. Edibles, anything that was aliveeverything should be in a dry container so mold and rot doesnt get into it.

What, everything in damn glass jars? Ill break half even with straw!

The other [Drivers] complained, and Rhaldon nodded. It was hellishly hard to get good glassware, and Termin had advised him to invest in enchanted glass soon as he could if he had to transport that kind of stuff. But then Rhaldon would have to wash each glass jar for each new sample, and cotton?

Why cotton?

It absorbs the moisture. Rice would work too, but I dont think they want that in their reagents.

Rice and cotton? Id rather transport pottery. No wonder they call on you, Rhaldon. Anything explode yet?

Everyone laughed, and Rhaldon smiled, but privately, he thought that a lot of the issues with drivers was a lack of [Alchemists] telling them procedure.

Some things did go boom or were volatile, but the truth was that if you packed most things in airtight containers and took care with them, you saved yourself the trouble. Then again, Rhaldon had handled his first dangerous reagent for Itimen the other day, and the [Alchemist] had taken the time to lecture him on what to do.

You are importing Corusdeer horns for me, Driver Rhaldon. And before you say its just horns or Ill have them tomorrow, listen to me!

He was white-haired, a Human man with huge eyes and spectacles flecked with dirt, and he was probably the closest to the crazy scientist look. But he was insistent, and Rhaldon nodded.

What do I do, Alchemist?

Do notdo not let them rub together! Listen to me, they are Corusdeer horns. Do you understand? I know youve seen them roaming around. You know they ignite their horns? Well, the horns canand willignite if they rub up against anything. You may get dustdust can catch fire too. Keep them away from flammable material, including your wagon. Do not tell me it is snowing and wet! I have seen them turn a water-doused wagon into a match, and no amount of water will douse them. If they are already pre-powdered, seal them in a pot! Dead gods above and below, I will take them filled with water if it means the Drivers Guild does not complain about another burning wagon! Driver Rhaldon, that powder will burn without going out. Do you understand me? Do not smoke near it. Do not let it get out. Are we clear?

He was ranting, a foot from Rhaldons face, and the [Driver] only got in a word edgewise when Itimen stopped to breathe. He was writing everything down and actually showed Itimen his notes.

Yes, Alchemist. I was thinking to wrap each Corusdeer horn in waxed paper I could buy. Would that work? Or I could do something else?

No paper! It willoh.

The angry [Alchemist] stopped, and he finally looked at Rhaldon. The [Driver] had done five deliveries, but this time, Itimen paused and seemed to actually recognize him.

I recognize you. The dark skinChandrarian? No, never mind. I had thought my deliveries were better than usual. Wax paper? Well, now, youve thought about this.

He tapped his mouth thoughtfully.

It will melt and catch fire, but it is slick. I see the idea. No, nothe other drivers who have transported the horns before have used other methods. Dunking them in water, bags of holdingbut they can rub together even in water. Do you have a bag of holding?

He was hopeful, but Rhaldon shook his head. They were expensive, costing dozens of gold coins for the smallest. It was one of the things he wanted, and Termin was rich enough to have one, but the [Driver], his mentor, couldnt pay for everything Rhaldon needed.

Paper it is. I would, ideally, have you suspend them in the air. Dangling from a fishing line. Could you do that?

Rhaldon imagined the contraption and shook his head.

No, [Alchemist], but if its all about frictionwould soapy paper do?

Soap? Hmm. Thatsbut itd get over my horns. Then again, if its just surface-level, I could clean it off. Soapy paper. And how are you going to keep them from jostling around?

I normally put things in straw, Alchemist, in a box. But in this case, should I try water? Itd be heavy and difficult.

The [Alchemist] paced back and forth, muttering.

The dust is damned difficult. You were told it was dangerous?

Rhaldon had actually been offered a chance to turn this one down. One of the big rollers like Termin or Chaoisa could do it, or a Courier or City Runner stupid enough to transport Corusdeer horn dust.

Howexplodable is a vial of dust? Alchemist?

Itimen shot him a dark look.

If you shake it, the dust within will begin to get hot. If it keeps shaking, it combusts, and as I said, water cannot put it out. Theres a woman in Reizmelt brave enough to grind it downbut getting it to us is difficult. Any method of keeping it from moving is acceptable. Even

He sighed.

Submerging it in water. But even then, it can clump up! Perhaps you should leave this for a Courier with a bag of holding. Although its been known to explode even inside them

Rhaldon was very nervous, but an idea occurred to him as he thought about the issue of transporting the horns and dust.

Alchemist. What if I submerged it in water and, uhdelivered you a block of ice?

Hm? A block of

Itimens eyes lit up as he stared out his window and saw the snow falling. He clapped his hands to his head in delight.

Dead gods, is it winter already? Of course! A block of ice works! Even for the horns! Do that! Dont mind breaking it into piecesthough be careful in the breaking! I just need it in dust, so the fewer parts the better

That was one of the methods via which Rhaldon avoided immolation. Acid, other combustibles, it was all just knowing what each thing did. He had to transport a sealed jar that would explode if you opened it to the air, and while it gave him newfound respect for people transporting such goods on Earthit was doable. And again, it earned him the respect of his clients. Enough so he could begin to question them and learn their processes.

Alchemy, according to [Alchemists], was a simple process. To a chemist, it wasinteresting how they described things.

Alchemy? You want lessons? Am I paying you in gold as well as tips?

Alchemist Zeomtoril was visibly annoyed when Rhaldon asked, and the [Driver] tried to placate him.

I was just curious, [Alchemist]. I didnt mean to interrupt

Didnt mean? I have a bunch of prickly, annoying spies around wanting me to perform my genius just because theyre friendly with the [Lord] of this mansion, and now I have to explain my craft to a [Driver]? Fah. You wouldnt even understand it.

Rhaldon ducked his head, and Zeomtoril glared and made a point of double-checking that everything hed ordered was intact and properly sealed. But as he watched Rhaldon unpack his deliveries, he eventually, grudgingly, delivered a variation on the lecture Rhaldon had gotten from every [Alchemist] hed asked.

Alchemy is made of three things, boy. Any [Alchemist] knows the spiel. You have a Base, a Reactor, and sometimes a Booster. All those fancy vials of liquid you imagine me pouring powders into and exploding? Thats how you do it. Of course, proper alchemy is more than that, but every idiot you meet and work for besides me will think of it like that.

Those three terms, Base, Booster, and Reactor, were equivalent to Earths understanding of catalysts and reagents, and emulated the old mad-science of the past. Actually, alchemy was that crazy science, only it worked.

Zeomtoril pointed out a bubbling vial in a huge glass box of all things. Rhaldon guessed it was highly toxic, because a second forcefield surrounded the box itself.

It gave him prickles, because the [Genius Polymath] was watching the vial like a hawk, and that gas had to be dangerous.

That is a pure example of it, boy. I put in a very distilled venom forwell, never you mind. But I have added the Reactor, the thing thats making it bubble. Once its no longer that hot, I will add a tiny Booster for efficacy and voil.

He kissed his fingers.

Something unparalleled, if so deadly I shall have to throw away the brush. Its not all explosions, and you would do well to remember that. But it is always taking one thing and improving or transmuting it. Understand?

Alchemists knew that they were always pursuing some kind of chemical reaction, but they didnt understand how things worked on a molecular level. They were intelligent; Alchemist Xif of Pallass was far friendlier and gave Rhaldon a practiced speech that he often laid on [Apprentice Alchemists] in his guild.

Alchemy, young Rhaldon, is about a steady result. Some would tell you its about discoverybut what is the point of making a miracle tonic that you cannot reproduce? Alchemy is not just fun experimentationthats actually only a tenth of the work you do. Mostly, its refining a method to reliably acquire what you want, be it a potion, reaction, or anything else. We are constantly plagued by that: reliability.

Rhaldon liked that explanation because it cut to the heart of something hed noticed in alchemy as opposed to his worlds chemistry: they had no standardization.

Procedures were shared online and in scientific journals in his world, and they were peer-reviewed so that other labs could reproduce techniques or experiments. That was the power of information sharing and a treasured tenet in scienceeven if pharmaceutical companies loved hiding their stuff and charging people for life-saving medication.

Or patenting the hell out of it. But patents didnt exist in this world, so secrecy and theft of ideas ruled.

Alchemists took that kind of greed to another level. They openly hid recipes from one another, sabotaged rivals, and hoarded rare ingredients. Even in the Alchemists Guild, you had to pay to access their recipes, and all the best ones were kept by top-level [Alchemists] so theyd have a monopoly on their product.

This all meant that there were few recipes that everyone knew, and even then, Rhaldon had been told you could make a healing potion eight different ways with varying results.

This lack of shared knowledge meant that each [Alchemist] could produce incredibly varied results. For a buyer, you were taking a risk and trusting to each individuals reputation that theyd deliver quality, and levels were often used to benchmark reliability.

Saliss of Lights offered a final word on alchemy for Rhaldon. He laughed when Rhaldon told him hed been asking around, and the Drake stopped making a battle potion and turned to Rhaldon. He waved the vial around.

Alchemy. Xif would do the reliability speech, and you talked to someone who did the three components? Cute. Thats what we tell new [Alchemists] and clients, but the truth is far simpler, Rhaldon. Want to know?

Yes.

Saliss paused, and the naked Drake, wearing only an apron, leaned over.

Its super-secret, but Ill tell you. Come closer.

Rhaldon leaned over, and Saliss whispered.

You really want to know?

Yes, please, Alchemist Saliss.

You sure?

Absolutely.

Are you certain?

This went on for about a minute, and then Saliss got bored. He went back to adding little crystal grains to his vial, smiling.

Its not about reliability, Rhaldon. Or even toss three things together and get a reaction. Its aboutunderstanding. Dont let them fool you. Were all idiots who dont know what a single ingredient does. But were trying.

Understanding, Alchemist Saliss?

Saliss nodded and tinged the vial with one claw. The red liquid within roiled alarmingly, and he pointed to it.

Nasty, isnt it? Guess whats in there.

Uh

Salamander skins. The same stuff you deliver to Octavia for heating potions? It also explodes if you add the right stuff to it. The venom of a spider can killor cure. Sometimes it seems like its all magic, but the truth is, each ingredient we have does something. And the more uses I find for salamander skin, or Sages Grass, the more I understand it. I understand this stuff is hot, reacts well, and does not like being pressurized.

This time, Saliss flipped the vial up and down and caught it, and Rhaldon flinchedbut the Drake was teasing him. Rhaldon had known that the vials were all enchanted, so he doubted it was possible to break them even if Saliss threw the vial at a wall. Yet the Drakes annoying humor turned serious again, and he held the vial of red liquid up.

If I knew what any one ingredient did, fully, any oneI would be happy and Level 60. Because we are combining two things, or eleven things, and praying and wishing it does what we think itll dobut the truth is, were constantly figuring out what that one thing did. We think we know, and then we put together something innocent like salamander skins into a vial of water, compress it, and whoa, there goes your face! I knew a poor [Alchemist] who did that.

He gave Rhaldon a grinand the chemist gulped. But Saliss then just sighed.

Knowledge. It always surprises me, again and again. Thats why alchemy doesnt advance. We dont share data, and because we dont, someone always finds out something newand everyone else stares at the smoking crater of their shop and wonders what the hell they found. Ah, well. Thats our job for you. Alchemy is all about not sneezing at the wrong time.

Three answers, and the latter two spoke to the actual challenges of alchemy itself. Now, here was where Rhaldon got a funny answer from Octavia.

Oh, someone did the three components lecture? I did that to Numbtongue. You, uh, have you seen him? Hes not dangerous, you know.

The Hobgoblin? Rhaldon had met him, and the guitar-toting green guy with his cat seemed less dangerous than all the [Alchemists] hed met, but he just nodded.

People had a thing about Goblins in this world. Rhaldon, who was from Earth, thought it was pretty telling. Skin color was not remarked on much here, but as a black manhe did notice the Chandrarian comment now and then.

But the fact that it was Goblins who were apparently the bad species made him predisposed to like them. So Octavia looked relieved. She herself was one of the Stitch-folk and shook her head as she showed him her workstation.

She was mixing up a stamina potion, and it was a bunch of roots, roachesthree glowing Sweetberries, and Sages Water.

This is a basic formula, Rhaldon. Erdont mind the bugs. Theyre dead.

Rhaldon was not keen on bugs, but each component of the Stamina Potion was apparently vital.

None of its super-magical. I told Numbtongue one time that it was all Booster, Base, and Reactor. But the truth issometimes you cant see whats going on. So were close to herbcraft, or even cooking. You know Erin? She treats alchemy sort of like a cooking recipe. The worst part isit works.

Octavia shuddered. She gestured at her potion, which she was making by mixing the entire substance and heating it up.

But its true. This is just reallyflavored soup. Magic makes it more colorful, but basic potions like these? I just get some dry roachaaaah!

One moved, and she smashed it with her beaker as Rhaldon nearly leapt into a second table. Octavia eyed the mess and began to scrape it into a bowl, groaning.

And thats something I hope no one puts in food, but its sorta edible. Dont tell anyone we put this stuff in.

Are you sure its, uhneeded?

Octavia nodded gloomily.

You can do it without the roaches, but then everyone complains its weaker. See the blue insides? Its their blood; the blood is what has the magic. Theyre fast as heck, and some people gather themlisten, if we can omit something, we do. Alchemys all about finding the cheapest way to do something.

The roachs blood was the magic? The question then waswhat part of the blood? But Octavia couldnt answer that. Just like the Corusdeer horns, if you could isolate what part of the blood was the useful element, like platelets or cartilage in the horns

Someone should be studying this. Not just me. But Rhaldon had to start with what alchemy was, so he just nodded in response to Octavias comment about the most efficient way to get to a solution.

Reliability also matters, right? Reproducing the recipe each time? Thats what Alchemist Xif said.

Octavia put her chin on her hand and frowned.

I guess for him its reliability, yeah. But for me, itslisten, I think you can make anything in this world. Theres this super-potion I want to make, thats [Haste]. Not [Speed], but haste.

Are you sure its okay to tell me?

The Stitch-girl laughed and waved it off.

Its not like I can make it! And besides, I like you. ListenI cant make it, but I know its possible. Master Saliss is actually helping me make it. Im just afraid that the only way to make it is with a Unicorn Horn or something, and I dont think any more are left. Maybe in some dungeon in a vault or something, but thats what I mean. Healing Potions? Stamina and healing potions used to require Phoenix Feathers and magical cheetah claws and such. And you know, we can still make them that way. But the reason theres a shortage of healing potions is because the common, useful ingredient is missing.

Eir Gel.

Rhaldon had heard all about that. Octavia pointed her mortar and pestle at him.

Exactly. These bugs? Hate them or love them, but youd pay me forty gold pieces for a stamina potion back in the day and not haggle. True, itd be more powerful probably, but now anyone can sip one for silver. Thats what real alchemy is, to me. Yes, its about doing it reliably. Yes, its about knowing what things dobut if you cant afford the potion, whats the point? Uhhey, whered the other roach go?

All of this struck home with Rhaldon, and he was grateful for Octavias point, even if he did find the roach in his clothing two days later.

It was close to chemistry of his world, in that a lot of what people did was transmuting one thing into another using the most efficient processes. The main difference was that he could buy isopropyl alcohol in vast quantities and generally trust it was what he wanted, even if he needed to make sure some ingredients had the right quality.

The fact that here you were buying Corusdeer horns and grinding them up, or hoping your salamander skins werent moldy, complicated alchemical processes, and the inability to look at things on a molecular level and isolate reactions meant that no one had a bible for how things worked.

Rhaldon wasnt nearly good enough to take things to a microscopic level, so he treated alchemy, at least the kind he was going to practice, like a dangerous experiment. Even if you thought you knew what two things did, when you combined them with the third

Well, he thought there were ways to mitigate the experimentation risk, and he had observed how each [Alchemist] practiced safety and lab procedure. But the key to how he was going to make his mark was in the final [Alchemist]s answer. Or rather, the answer and the reply.

Itimen was, unlike the rest, a rather messy [Experimenter Alchemist]. He had dirty workplace methods, and even his beakers werent clean.

It was horrifying to Rhaldon, who had seen fairly neat cleaning of beakers from Xif, Saliss, and Octavia. Especially because Saliss taught Octavia. Apparently, she hadnt been the most studious before, but Pallass Alchemy Guild drilled it into their apprentices.

You were talking to Pallassian [Alchemists]! Hah! Those idiots dont create new things. II, Rhaldon, create new things! Even Saliss of Lights is just a copycat.

Really, Master Itimen?

The man was swirling around a mixture in a beaker, taking it on and off a burnerno propane-fueled torch, but an actual, tiny fire he was using to bubble it. He eyed the liquid.

Thisthis is either going to explode or be a dud, so stand back.

Rhaldon moved back further to the doorway and noted how chaotic the [Alchemist]s workshop was. Some were like this, old experiments still in their containers, ingredients strewn aroundfor all Itimen cared about Rhaldons safety with the horns, he was careless himself.

Do you know what Im making, Rhaldon?

No, sir.

Neither do I! And that is alchemy! We never know! Oh, you can copy a Potion of Blast a thousand times like Saliss, but new things are this!

He held up the frothing bottle and, to Rhaldons horror, tasted it. Itimen swished it around his mouth, then looked disappointed and spat it into the fire.

Ah, tastes like nothing. I had hoped it would be a new healing potion, butwell, the sore in my mouth isnt clearing.

Is thatsafe, Alchemist?

The man laughed as he turned to Rhaldon with a gleam in his eyes.

No. Of course not. But will it move forwards alchemy? Yes. Do you know who discovered the Potion of Youth?

Saliss of Lights?

Itimens eyes bulged. Then he turned red.

Saliss ofit was me!

What?

The [Experimenter Alchemist] danced in place, waving his vial around then placing it to cool, laughing.

Oh, the look on your face! But its no joke! Me, yes! I did it! At least, I made a Potion of Youthfulness. It didnt last long, and it took only a few years off. He bought it from me. Every [Alchemist] was bidding on it, and he paid for this entire shop! Well, the last shop and this one. They kicked me out of Invrisil over the last incident.

Rhaldon just stared. So this was the man who had invented one of the legendary potions of the modern age. He gazed aroundand jumped as a roach tried to drink from the new vial.

Aha! And this is one of the damn roaches that invades my shop! Ill turn you into my next brew!

It scuttled off, and Rhaldon saw it was slightly multi-colored. He wondered if the magical monsters were byproducts of alchemists like Itimen. But the man just turned, panting, to Rhaldon, and he smiled.

Young man. If you have an interest in alchemy, heed my advice. You can follow procedure all day, but one day you will have to push forwards. And alchemy is always experimentation. Close your eyes and spin around, would you? Yes, yesnow, point.

He made Rhaldon do that, then hurried over to the shelf. Then he did it two more times and found an ingredient in each.

I have never mixed these three together. Young manwhat will happen when I do? That is adventure. That is why I am Level 47 and why my competitors laugh at meyet listen whenever I find something new. Remember that. Saliss of Lights is a battle-[Alchemist]. He levelled from fighting, and he is a Named-rank adventurer. I wont deny it. Xif? Also Level 41, but he got it from being an [Alchemist of the Guild], a respected, mercantile [Alchemist] who sells the most in his huge city. How is he doing now?

Hesrenting a shop and rebuilding his clientele, Master Itimen.

The [Alchemist] looked sympathetic; one of the reasons why Xif had been so inclined to give Rhaldon the lecture was because he was teaching a lot of apprentices, mass-producing potions. His shop had apparently been destroyed due to some controversy, and so he was taking on as much paying work as possible.

Ah, well, I wish him luck rebuilding! Maybe Ill send him a recipe oryoure headed his way? Just know I appreciate the Gnoll; Ive had drinks with him once. But he got his levels by being a commercial success. I got my levels from pushing us forwards. Ive discovered more useless potions, more interesting things, than anyone else. And it may kill me. It will kill me, but look.

His teeth were dark, he was balding, marked by bad potions, and had a scar down one withered cheek, but he grinned as he raised his arms.

Do I look old to you?

By this point, Rhaldon had been working for a month and a half, and he was seriously considering whether or not he wanted to try alchemy.

He was half-tempted to keep doing deliveries. Oh, the road life didnt call to him. He imagined this was what it felt to drive a truck across the United States constantly. You were in a specific community that not a lot of other people respected, but it could pay, and it was a lifestyle that let you see places and meet new people at the best of times.

This specific lane he was in paid very well, and maybe he could keep doing it? But thenRhaldon had forgotten what this job was in the worst of times.

Halt!

The [Bandits] appeared out of the snow in a moment. They didnt charge in on horses; they just stood up by the side of the road, and what he had taken for a large snowdrift turned into nine peoplefollowed by nearly ten more in the distance.

Half had bows or slings, and a spear was aimed at his stomach.

Hey, Im not going to fight. Im just a [Driver].

Shut up. Anyones [Dangersenses] rumbling? He looked like an [Easy Mark] to me.

The [Bandits] were low-level, cold, despite their thick coats, and surrounded his wagon. One yanked him off, grabbed his money pouch, and when they found he had nothing more interesting, shoved him into the snow.

Whatve you got?

A delivery.

We know that, idiot; we can see your sigil. For who?

One of them stepped on his back, aimed a spear at him, and Rhaldon, terrified and pressed into the snow, decided driving wasnt for him.

If only Termin were here! But the [Driver] had a knack for evading danger, and hed been letting Rhaldon do more and more deliveries.

Its justCorusdeer powder! And a bunch of other stuff for Alchemist Zeomtoril!

What? Alchemy shit?

The leader of the bandits was disappointed and almost took it out on Rhaldon, but another whispered.

Hey, wait! Thats valuable, boss! It might be hard to sell, but I know a guy in the black market, and you know alchemists have good stuff.

Thats true.

One of the figures with a black scarf wound around his face turned, and suddenly they were all over the wagon. Rhaldon got up, slowly, and saw his horses being cut loose.

Wait, at least let me keep the horses. Ill freeze out here!

Shut up.

Another [Bandit] aimed a bow at him, and he backed up a step, but Rhaldon had his eyes on the covered goods in their jars. This was a priority delivery for Zeomtoril, and two things concerned him.

One was being killed or left in the cold where exposure might do him in. The second was that this was a priority delivery to Zeomtoril.

One of those jars was magically sealed, and he had been entrusted with it after the Corusdeer horns and told not to open it. Did he warn the [Bandits]?

The leader glanced at Rhaldon and grinned.

Should we feather him with arrows? Could be a level up.

Rhaldons blood froze, and his shoulder ached. If he ran into the snowbut the one who thought they could sell the stuff raised a hand.

Boss, boss. The Drivers Guild posts bounties if their own gets killed.

You think Im scared of a few adventurers or a [Bounty Hunter]?

Their leader sneered, but he visibly hesitated, and the tiny group was no Bloodfeast Raiders. After a whispered conversation, he snapped.

Cut them horses loose. Let him go.

Both?

Sure. I hear theyll just go back to one of the horse handlers if they whistle. Bastards know their mounts. This is the real haul. Come on, get over here and start packing it up before someone comes down the road! This is going to set us up!

Suddenly, the [Bandits] were all over the wagons, and Rhaldon was grateful hed leased his horses from the Guild of Hostlers. He whistled, and they trotted towards him.

Easy, easylets just get out of here. Hey, thanks for not killing me.

His voice wobbled, and the bandits barely paid attention to him. Rhaldon turned, back still prickling because they had bows, and grabbed both horses reins.

Easy, guys. Lets just walk off nice and slow. Nice and slow

He walked forwards as their excited shouting grew louder. They were tearing at his canvas coverings, and he wondered if anything would happen. He walked down the road faster, slowly reaching for one of his horses backs. He should be only about forty minutes from the next city. If he

Whumph.

The sound was also an impact, and it pressed him forwards. Rhaldon fell against the horse, turnedand saw a blinding flash of spiraling light. Something exploded in such light and ferocity that he went blindand then the horse was taking off as something else ignited in his wagons.

Rhaldon didnt see or hear the bandits. His ears ranghe was deaf and blind, and the horses were bolting. He fell over, then got up, nose bloodied, and ran. He ran and ran, then shouted for the horses, pulled himself up onto ones back and

Rhaldon!

Termin found him that night. The man barged into the local Drivers Guild, and Rhaldon sat up, still wrapped in a blanket and bandaged up.

He had cuts all over him from falling and being knocked down, and he felt shaken. He knew he looked shaken; the Drivers Guild had said he looked like a ghost when he came in.

Lad, lad, are you alright? Where are the bastards who did that to him?

Termin, calm down! I thought you were miles away!

I raced Emma and Fox over. Did they beat you? You didnt get hurt, did you?

The old man was full of concern, and Rhaldon got up a bit unsteadily. One of the things a [Driver] got after a mugging was a drink.

They didnt get meI surrendered, and they were more interested in the wagon. I even got the horses.

Did you? Smart lad! Is there a bounty on them? Ill double it.

Termin the Omnipresent was furious. But the [Drivers] told him there was no need for that.

The Watch was already out there, Termin.

The Watch? This isnt Drake lands. Those lazy bastards are probably tipping the [Bandits] off themselves! Whos

Halfre dead, Termin. All of em might be. The Watch found twelve bodies, and that was only the ones in one piece. Your boy was carrying alchemy goods. One of them popped the lid and blew the rest sky-high. Didnt you see the smoke on the way in? Its green, and no ones to get near it.

Termin halted, and the other [Drivers] glanced at Rhaldon, who looked slightly unnerved himself. Hed personally visited the crater and seen how much damage had been done.

Dead gods. They robbed the wrong wagon.

One of the [Drivers] murmured, and Termin smiled and spat.

Serves em right. Come here, Rhaldon. And lets take a look at you. Howre you feeling?

I, uhshaken.

My first holdup was like that too. Youre doing just fine. Come on, lets show you to Erma and Fox or theyll kick the door down. Come on, lad. Dont worry about the cargoyou made it. Tell me what they said

[Driver Level 15!]

[Skill Fast Travel Locations (2) obtained!]

In the midst of suffering or trials, there was always a reward. There wasnt on Earth, but it was a strange feeling to wake up excited, despite still being shaken and sleepless from being mugged and thinking of the dead [Bandits].

Rhaldon didnt know what his new Skill did, but he was intensely excited, and the moment Termin heard of his new Skill, he had half the Guild up and was buying a celebratory breakfast.

A genius! Thatll cut down your roll from that Lord Calidus lands to Invrisil from four days to two! [Faster Rolling] and [Fast Travel Locations]?

Someone wants to get places fast. Youre raisin a real racer, Termin.

The Guildmaster himself looked slightly envious. Rhaldon was quickly turning into a speed-specialist. Some [Drivers] liked safety, but Rhaldon needed to get places in a hurry, especially with perishable alchemy ingredients.

Two days?

Yep. And youve only got two spots? Id put one down up norththe other in Invrisil. What it means, ysee, Rhaldon, is that you can go between the two spots really fast.

I dont teleport?

Everyone laughed heartily, then Termin waggled a finger.

Not yet. Maybe when you hit Level 60! Ah, thatd be a sight. Someone with a Skill to copy Miss Erins?

It turned out the Skill wasnt as cool as video games, but it did accelerate Rhaldons journey. He drove at regular speeds, but somehow, he ended up getting a lot farther than he should have. Like Termins ability, you didnt see Rhaldon zipping past you. But the moment he rolled past and you took your eyes off himhe was a blip in the distance.

That was the good thing. The bad part was the fact that Rhaldon didnt have a wagon to drivemuch less any cargo, and the cost of that he reckoned with over the next few days, especially as he informed his client of what had happened.

The cost of losing a wagon with that much cargo wasnt all on Rhaldon. The Drivers Guild knew [Bandits] were a threat and actually offered a kind of insurance if you could prove it was a legitimate monster or [Bandit] attack.

It was part of the dues you paid, and in this case, Termin assured Rhaldon there wouldnt be any trouble.

The cost to the client though, well, that was personal. They had to eat two-thirds of the costs, which was the peril of hiring anyone to deliver things, but Rhaldon did have to tell Zeomtoril himself.

Termin had offered to go with him to explain, but Rhaldon had told him hed go alone. Nevertheless, Termin had escorted Rhaldon to the mansion, and would have gone inside but for Rhaldon insisting he was fine and had to do this by himself.

He felt like Termin might be too overprotective, and so the [Genius Polymath] came striding out of his toweronly to find Rhaldon with his drivers cap in hand.

Bandits? Those miserablewhich gang? Where? Ill kill them! IllCalidus! Calidus, keep your roads safe!

He didnt go for Rhaldon, but rather went screaming down from his tower to find the [Lord] of the manor. Calidus Reinhart, an important [Lord]or at least a rich onewas drinking in his banquet halls.

For all the alcohol he was imbibing, he looked miserable.

Argh! Zeomtoril, what is it? Im trying to regain my old Skill, and this isnt helping!

He clutched at his head, and Zeomtoril pointed at Rhaldon.

My [Driver] has been mugged. All my reagentsstolen! I want the perpetrators found! Killed! Do you know how much it cost? Send your associates to

Calidus held up a hand.

Zeomtoril! Shut up! Whats this about? What [Driver]?

He peered at Rhaldon, and the chemist held his breath as he noticed Zeomtoril hesitate. Calidus had sounded very serious for a second, and Rhaldon noticed the [Genius Polymath] look a tiny bit worried.

He didnt ask questions on his deliveries, and right now, he didnt want to. Rhaldon explained a bit of what had happened to Calidus, glad the man didnt have him bow, and Calidus groaned.

[Bandits]. What was their groups name? I have an arrangement, but those sound like desperate idiots, not a gang.

I cant have it happen. Not for my work, Calidus. Your associates want my best products? Tell them to mind the only [Driver] who can deliver alchemy items this side of the High Passes!

Zeomtoril pointed at Rhaldon, much to the young mans gratification. Calidus eyed Rhaldon, and now the [Driver] broke in.

That wont be necessary, er, Lord Calidus. Zeomtoril. I was trying to say the bandit group is dealt with.

By local Watch? The Drivers Guild?

No. They, erexploded when they opened Zeomtorils delivery.

The [Genius Polymath] and Calidus pausedthen the two looked at each other, and Zeomtorils outrage turned into mirth. Both started laughing, and Zeomtoril snatched a cup from the table.

Hah! Those idiotic plebians opened thewhat was the explosion like?

Bright. Withspirals?

They did! They opened the damn magicore! Light magicore, straight from Salazsar! And I bet it hit the other reagents! They got a faceful of light, and it probably hit the other reagents and set it ablaze.

This calls for a drink! Hey, someone get a drink for the [Driver]! What happened, then?

Calidus chuckled, not bothered by the death at all. Zeomtoril was looking around for his list of delivery items. He scanned it.

Thats not combustible, thats notoh, I see. What blew up had to be the salamander skins. Everyone wants them, and I was making Cold Resistance potions tooso it was the explosion. Now, you, Rhaldon, tell me. Was there smoke afterwards? Id guess

Yes. Green?

Ah, that would be the arsenic.

Rhaldon twitched as he realized what some of his delivery had been. Calidus just snorted.

Poisoning me, Zeomtoril?

As if Id use arsenic. Id just buy you more drinks. No, and nowell, it might be a loss, but at least I got my revenge. Let that be a lesson!

Vengeance seemed to mollify Zeomtorils rage over his delivery. In fact, Rhaldon had to stand several drinks with Calidus, who seemed bored, and had even his servants drinking with him. There were several figures dressed all in black, though, who came, eyed the [Lord], and actually had some of his food and drinks before vanishing.

They gave Rhaldon prickles, but it seemed like even they needed [Drivers], because Zeomtoril summoned Rhaldon to his tower.

This is a list of replacement items and more. Since the Drivers Guild doesnt reimburse me, I suppose I shall eat the costs. And this is, annoyingly, a second list of goods you shall pick up in Invrisil.

He didnt seem to think that Rhaldon needed a break, and the two-day, all-day drive backand another two days to get here againwas going to be fun. Even with Rhaldons Skills, two of which were [Faster Rolling] and [Slipless Wheels]he eyed the second piece of paper, which was just a stamped seal.

Whats this?

Lord Calidus other guests want a trustworthy driver. Just pick it up, deliver it, and dont ask questions. Pack everything in straw or something.

Great. Now he was involved withsomeone. Termin had experience there, and Rhaldon would consult with him. Hed said that the best thing to do was play dumb and dont ask questions.

Rhaldon was ready to go, but Zeomtoril was just eying him.

Well, I trust you will keep working for me. Accidents in Calidus lands or nearby are rare. I require someone to deliver my goods to me, and whereas I would think any ham-fisted clod could do it, Ive met only a few reliable drivers, and Couriers are too damn expensive. Here.

He actually went around his laboratory, then placed something in Rhaldons hands.

A Potion of Invisibility for the next time. A masters work, so dont sell it for cheap.

Thank you, Alchemist Zeomtoril.

Rhaldon was surprised; it was the most handsome tip hed gotten. The [Genius Polymath] just waved it off.

I invest in worthwhile things. And so? Did you ask other [Alchemists] what alchemy is? I assume some humored you.

He had remembered the question? Rhaldon was surprised, but repeated a few anecdotes, leaving out names. But when he got to Itimens theories on experimentation, Zeomtoril whirled.

Who said that? Noit was Alchemist Itimen, wasnt it? Only he would say something that insanely stupid.

Er

Zeomtoril waved a ringed finger at Rhaldon as he paced over.

Dont lie. I know every [Alchemist] worth their salt in Izril, and I could guess who made the other comments. This mind of mine is unparalleled.

He tapped a finger to his head. Zeomtoril folded his fingers together, and his lips, thin, bloodless, and his entire complexion, that of a thin savant in his tower, turned thoughtful.

Itimen is a madman. One day youll find him dead in his workshop. Its just like him to claim alchemy is unpredictable. What is his workshop like? Does he still have roaches?

He had a lot ofproducts in his vials. I think he reuses his glassware without washing them.

Zeomtoril and Rhaldon shuddered. But the [Polymath], seeming to appreciate that his audience understood, raised a finger.

Madness. But therein lies a kind of genius. Because, you see, he is the one pushing the eternal scope of alchemy. Yet he cannot replicate what he does. You would think he is, then, useless to us, but even Saliss minds his discoveries carefully. I have thought on the question of alchemy, and a key distillation has occurred to me. Do you know why Itimen is useful, boy?

No? Is it because you follow his recipes?

What recipes?

Zeomtoril shook his head.

No, and no. He does write them down when he finds a winning formula, but consider his workspace.

Oh. You cant reproduce something if it was the detritus that caused the effect or if he mixed it with an older creation. Cross contamination.

The [Polymath] hesitated, mouth open.

Yes, well, thats obvious. Well done. Cross contamination? Good word for itgoodis that a new term Drakes are using? Yet his creations are inherently valuable, as are their recipes. He did create the first Potion of Youth. But do you know who bought it from him?

Now, it was like a test, and Rhaldon answered before he needed to think.

Saliss of Lights?

Yes. Again. Because Saliss, unlike Itimen, practices the other half of alchemy. And it is this.

Zeomtoril pulled something from a shelf and showed it to Rhaldon. It was a vial of redpowder. It glowed and looked familiar, but many objects were red and glowing.

What is this? If I told you it was the most common reagent in alchemy, you would say

Sages Grass.

Correct again.

Even the [Polymath] seemed pleased by the answers. They werent hard, but he seemed isolated, and but for Calidus, no one really talked to him, Rhaldon guessed. Zeomtoril stalked around his workplace, pulling more vials of powder out.

Salamander skin. Eir Gelno longer in stock, so this is valuabledo you know what Saliss did to find out what the Potion of Youth was? He distilled Itimens discovery back into workable reagents. Then synthesized a reliablehah, well, mostly reliableversion of it. He could do better. I hear he fails eight in ten times because its so difficult. But the heart of alchemy, my alchemy, is this.

Each vial Zeomtoril spread on his counter, and each was justpowder. But so finely granulated that it looked familiar like nothing else had been to Rhaldon. But one vial contained what looked like liquid crystal. Rhaldons eyes were drawn to it; a clear, beautiful liquid like gelled water. He glanced up and spoke.

This ismagicore, isnt it? Highly pure, without impurities. What percentage?

And again, Zeomtoril stopped, and this time looked at Rhaldon as if hed seen a ghost. He answered slowly.

99.4%. But who are you to even know how to calculateare you a spy? Ano, youre just a [Driver].

He snatched up a magnifying glass, stared at Rhaldon through it, then tossed it aside. Rhaldon tried to reassure the man.

I just, uhheard people talking about that. And I like math.

Zeomtoril stared at him, then his eyes lit up, he snapped his fingers, and relaxed.

Oh, of course. Yelroan the [Mathematician]. Hardly a feat of ingenuity to understand whos taught you. Very good.

He must have leapt to some conclusion that Rhaldon couldnt follow. Zeomtoril nodded at the vials.

Yes, this is pure. Unlike Magicore mined filthy from the rock. Understand this, boy. Saliss tries, but most [Alchemists] do not. Itimen is a disgusting pig on one end, but even the good ones? They have so muchimpurity in what they make. They boil roots raw. They stir in slop, salamander skins and boil it up and put everything in their damn potions like a [Witch] making a brew. This is pure. This is reliable. I purify my magicore and ingredientseach one is in powdered form, not some disgusting, mashed up mess. Do you understand?

More than you know. Rhaldon thought of Octavia mashing up the roaches when she claimed it was their blood she needed. He saw in Zeomtorils alchemy a truth that gave him hope. He glanced up, and the [Polymath] met his gaze.

If only I had all the time to work myself. But I am constantly forced to adhere to the wishes of lesser men. Like Calidus, as he so readily admits. Ah, well. I shall await you in a weeks time. Do make sure not to be mugged this time, would you?

The key was in Zeomtorils methods. Well, each alchemist and their lab had something Rhaldon wanted to learn from, but that was the basis for his attempt.

You seechemistry knew what the geniuses of his age had discovered: variables sucked. The act of extracting compounds so they could reliably be transmuted from one form to another?

That was chemistry. Alchemy, to Rhaldon, was the unpredictable method that had to exist because there wasnt any molecular-level characterization techniquesthe ability to analyze things on a chemical level. There was no mass spectrometry or the ability to measure composition and size.

Alchemists could observe reactions and theorize about chemical compounds, but their ability to prove and confirm what they had done was lacking. That was why alchemy was so imprecise. People used salamander skins, not the exact substance that they required, devoid of said skin because to many, they were one and the same. Their understanding of the world was incomplete.

He would have loved to pick Zeomtorils brain about how he performed his own purification, but the [Polymath] was guarded and private. So Rhaldon decided he was ready.

The mugging on the road had shaken him and told him, again, that he didnt want to be a [Driver]. He wondered how hed break the news to Termin and decided the older [Driver] didnt have to know unless it was working for Rhaldon.

Hed just take a vacation after this delivery, a very understandable thing to do, and put his plan into action.

There was just one problem with his idea, and it was that Rhaldon, for all he thought he was good at playing dumb and keeping out of sight

He didnt realize that at least a few people had noticed him.

Calidus Reinhart was drunk.

But not dead-drunk.

Not stupid-drunk.

He was just drunk, and his mind could not stop moving, even when he was staggering around. Sometimes he lay, physically incapable of moving, but thinking.

Thinking, damn him, of everything and anything.

Zeomtoril was one of those people who was a genius in a few hyper-specific things. He absorbed alchemy information, studied metallurgy, the body, and seemingly unrelated fields and found the connections therein. He had no social graces, had all the cunning of a mouse tap-dancing on a traphe thought he was a sneaky fellow, but Calidus had had to bail him out of trouble more than once.

That was still an enviable kind of genius that had earned him [Genius Polymath] as a class. But the thing was, despite being a [Polymath], the name still implied mastery of a wide variety of fields. Yet Zeomtoril could also still be banned from most gatherings in First Landing because he couldnt stop staring at an unlaced bodice and commenting about his knowledge of the female anatomy. Wild intellectual genius. Zero social awareness.

Calidus Reinhart, by contrast, was a kind of thinking idiot. He was no genius who could make a Potion of Invisibility or engineer a warship out of toilet paperbut he could understand both if he thought hard enough about it.

He was a man who observed that the clandestine stare was actually less acceptable socially than the ribald, open look, and the self-important comments about a [Lady]s anatomy did not get you into bed. Worshiping her from head to toe without caring who saw you grovel?

That sometimes worked. In the same way, Calidus thought about things he couldnt help. He noticed things, and it annoyed him because the world had taken away his [Drunken Oblivion] condition.

The next day, Zeomtoril went downstairs to help himself to the pantry and found Calidus sitting in the banquet hall, drawing on his table with an eating knife.

So? Who was he?

Who?

The [Genius Polymath] saw the [Lord] look up. Calidus sighed.

Im drunk and not drunk enough. Lets skip the part where you dont know. Ive seen him eight times; you change [Drivers] like I change bed partners. You were discussing alchemy yesterday and postulating your theories of puritywhich sounds bad, by the way, youll want to change thatand you had him up there for the last hour and a half.

So?

You chase everyone out of your workshop but me, women, and people who fascinate you. Who was he?

Zeomtoril looked displeased at being read, despite his longing for someone who could keep up. He poured himself some wine.

I dont know. But hes been educated. He understands the percentage and decimal point where all but [Merchants] and a few others regard it as a mistake.

Math? Oh, dead gods, shut up! Youre reminding me of math!

Calidus put his head in his hands and groaned. Zeomtoril actually tossed his drink at the [Lord].

Why are you bothering?

Because Im curious, and the thought wont go away. Even if you douse me in wine! Even if you threw me in a tub of wine with some lovelyno, wait. That would work. Ill try that later, but I think Id die.

Whfrom the sex?

Calidus spoke glumly.

No, because the wine would go through my skin. We had those damn [Assassins] talking about skin contact poison, remember? It follows that if poison seeps through, so does wine. So I might well die of the fumes. I knew a [Drunkard] who used to inhale vapors. He died.

Zeomtoril paused, his wineglass raised to his mouth. That was an example of how Calidus brain worked. Ordinarily, he would have happily passed away in the vat of wine with several unfortunate women, and that would have been the end of him.

Damn! Damn you, granter of Skills and levels! What a way to go!

The man hammered his fists on the table. His glorious end! Even his family would have thought it was a stupid death! He slumped in his chair, squeezed his eyes shut, then stared at the ceiling.

Facts. My spy network wont shut up. They looked into the [Bandits], and theyre likely dead. Just hungry fools.

Well, good

For them. Because Termin, a veteran [Driver], is furious, and that was his apprentice.

Zeomtoril turned to the door Rhaldon had left through.

He was? Then

Who. Was. He? Termin the Omnipresent is one of the best drivers in Izril and that was his first apprentice.

Thats a name? Dead gods, those [Drivers] think much of themselves.

Zeomtoril snorted, but Calidus was not amused. Termin had been waiting for Rhaldon to escort him back southyou didnt laugh at good [Drivers]. He could get from First Landing to Invrisil in two days. He could probably have Rhaldon back in Invrisil in a day or less. Calidus spoke darkly.

[Drivers] have won wars, Zeomtoril. Literal and economic. Anyone over Level 40 puts their fingers on the scales. That fellow could bankrupt a city if he wanted to. And hes just happening to take in Rhaldon? Why? What does he have thats valuable? Who is he, really?

The [Polymath] played with his cup, unable to get away from Calidus inquiries. He answered reluctantly.

An aspiring [Alchemist]. I believe hes asking other [Alchemists] our craft. Which means Ill need another damn [Driver].

That was Zeomtoril. So damn selfish. He didnt seeCalidus poured more wine over his brows. He ripped his shirt off his head, tossed it to the floor, and off went his pants.

An [Assassin] walking back from whatever clandestine task hed been about stopped as he saw Calidus put his feet up. A buck naked [Lord], dripping in so much wine he looked like a murder victim, reclining in a chair.

Dead gods, and hed thought the Assassins Guild had been crazy. Word was, the [Lord] had even seduced some colleagues. No one admitted to anything, but everyone was curious howand how hed survived.

Or had he spread the rumor to get in bed with the [Assassins]? If soit was working.

What a strange man. Almost frightening.

Zeomtoril, next time he comes by, offer him a workspace. Or have one cleared. Or just rent one.

Rhaldon? Why? Hes just a [Driver]

Who is the most suspicious man Ive met. Just do it. Or arent you curious to see how hed do?

Calidus drank more, wishing a report would come in from the New Lands. Or, frankly, that the [Innkeeper] would do something hilarious or stupid again.

Anything to distract him.

I want to visit an inn. But its too much work to travel, and Aunt Magnolias banned us from being prats. Zeomtoril, E4.

The [Polymath] paused.

Go fuck yourself.

Is the pawn diddling on C4? B6? Do I sense a [Knight] removing her codpiece toooh. Thats a lovely image.

Zeomtoril left as Calidus groaned. But the [Lord] did remember Rhaldon, and he saw something that his mind connected to. He almost, inadvertently, was successful despite his best efforts not to be. Howeverhe was too late.

Im just about done. Thanks, Octavia.

Rhaldon had finished his soup, which hed been dunking the bread into. There was even butter, and he really should be getting to Pallass.

The beach was gaining even more popularity day after day in The Wandering Inn, so her shop was a rare oasisand even here, Octavia was working on more sunscreen and itching to get out there. But Rhaldon didnt really pay attention. He had a sort of wind-blown look that [Drivers] got after driving like helland following Termin south at the older drivers speed had left Rhaldon dizzy. Octavia was considerate, though, and was actually concerned enough not to be running around on the beach.

No problem. Im so sorry I kept you busy, but I was just doing a bit of work and, uhhows things? I think Termin passed through, and he was saying you got attacked on the road!

Rhaldon related the story of his assault and the exploding wagon as Octavia put away his supplies. She winced, then looked over her shoulder.

You sure you dont want to stay at the beach? Its really fun, I mean it. ActuallyIve sort of been out of the shop. At the beach.

She had sand on what he realized was a kind of swimsuit. Rhaldon hesitated, but he jerked a thumb at the boxes hed taken into the inns hallway outside her shop.

I have to get this to Xif and Saliss. Unless theyre in the beach?

Nope. Ive seen both, but work does callafter that?

Rhaldon gulped down his meal slowly. The inn was mostly quiet, but there were a few people about. Everyone must have been in the beach.

After thatIm actually free. But I was, uh, going to, um, rent a workspace in Pallass. You can do that, right? To practice a bit of alchemy.

Octavia turned, and her eyes lit up.

Rhaldon! Are you serious?

A bit.

You want towhy didnt you tell me? I gave you a few lessons, but I could have actually shown you whats what! You want to rent a space? But I bet you dont have any equipment or ingredients. Its not easydo you want to be an [Alchemist]?

She grew visibly excited, and Rhaldon muttered.

Sort of. Ive actually bought some of the glassware since I go to the vendors, and I have a stock of ingredients. I stored it at the Drivers Guild in Invrisil

Her eyes grew round.

Wait, so youve planned it out? Wellwhat are you going to make?

Im just going to see if I can do anything. I thought maybe something basic like a stamina potion orif I have questions, could I ask you?

Sure! Absolutely! You know, I bet Xif would give you a discount if you wanted to get lessons from him, or even work in his shop. Youre careful, and hed just get sad hes losing a reliable [Driver]. But if you want me to put in a word to himand the Alchemists Guild doesnt like renting to unknown peopleif you get a signed note from him, theyll waive some of the fees.

That sounded good, and Rhaldon was just leaving Stitchworks to begin hauling things through the door when he almost bumped into someone. His heart thundered as someone came strolling down the corridor.

Do, doo, doo. Oh, hey, Octavia, and you! Whats up? I was just gonna talk to you, Octavia. And, uhthis is your [Driver], right? The one who brings ingredients without them blowing up.

A young woman waved at Rhaldon, and he waved back, trying not to visibly hide behind Octavia. But the [Innkeeper] focused on the Stitch-girl, who grinned.

Hey, Erin! What do you need? This is Rhaldon, by the way. Have you met? RhaldonErin. Dont be afraid, she doesnt spit blood.

Erin scowled at Octavia and flapped her hands, then held out a hand.

Hey. Howre things? Im Erin. Sorry if Liska gave you a hard time. Octavia was at the beach, and Liskas got orders not to let everyone through. Shes like a security guard.

Octavia turned bright red, and Rhaldon guessed where shed actually been while hed been waiting outside the door in Invrisil. He shook Erins hand gently, trying to appearnormal.

Im Termins apprentice-driver, hello. Hes said a lot about you. You have a lovely inn.

Thanks! Do you want to stay at the beach? I heard you got mugged, and if anyone deserves a bed, bath, and whatevers beyond, itd be you.

He grinned, but shook his head quickly.

Thank you, Miss Solstice, but Im fine.

Rhaldon was actually telling me about the [Bandits] getting blown up after robbing his wagon. Which is mildly horrifyingwhos getting that much explosive stuff?

Driver-Client confidentiality.

Darn. Anyways! Hes going to try his hand at alchemy. In Pallass.

Whoa. Cool!

Erin gave Rhaldon a big smile and looked him up and down. He was relieved she didnt ask more details. But she did turn to Octavia after a second.

Thats like when I tried my hand at alchemy. ActuallyOctavia, youre now a beach-person. Why dont you rent your shop to Rhaldon? He can use it, and I bet its warmer here than stupid Pallass. Heck, he can get food from the kitchen. Any friend of Termins is a friend of mine. Except Chaoisa. Shes sort of a jerk.

Erin must have met the Contempt of Man, and her scowl turned into a smile as Octavia visibly hesitated.

Oh, geez, ErinI dunno. I mean, you were a nightmare. You melted a hole in my cauldron and floor, and

Dont talk about me! I sorta went in all guns blazing, Rhaldon. I bet youre not as crazy as me.

The [Innkeeper] flapped her hands at Octavia, and Rhaldon flinched, his shoulder twinging. But he kept a straight face as he thought quickly.

I wouldnt want to disturb Octavias shop

Oh, no, Ive seen you work. Youre careful, and if you have your own glasswareits a thought. I mean, I am sort of busy with Numbtongueand other things!

Octavia flushed, and Erin shrugged.

Just a thought. Hey, dont overcharge him if you do! But Ill throw in food and even a room. Again. Mugging sort of sucks, and I owe the Drivers Guild forZanze.

Her smile vanished, and Rhaldon exhaled. So that was why she was doing it! The [Innkeeper] paused, then gave him finger-guns. The smile didnt quite return, but she gave the ghost of one.

Dont feel pressured, Rhaldon. Im just crazy. Hasta luego and stuff!

Oh, see you.

She walked off, and Octavia stood there, shaking her head. Then she ran into her shop.

Erin! Sunscreen! I swear we had enough, anywaysIll put it with the rest! That Human is crazy. Even for her speciesum, well, shes right! You could use my shop, Rhaldon.

Are you sure?

She was already opening the door and eying it.

Of course! Theresee that counter there? Its all cleared. If you wanted to work in the shop for a few days and you cleaned upI could show you some procedures and make sure you know how things work. Honestly, Id be happier than you working in some Pallassian alchemy lab with no one to mind you. Can I see you, uh, make a stamina potion? Ill walk you through it.

The [Alchemist] was visibly concerned for Rhaldons health, but once she saw him being careful and that he knew how the basics worked, she chewed on her lip and then nodded.

How about four silver to rent it for each day? That includes food, using my magical burner, and any glassware? If you note what you use, Ill add it into the price. And Erin can put on four more silver for her rooms and food. Breakfast and dinner.

That soundedincredibly reasonable. Rhaldon had saved up six gold coins, and hed been nervous about the rental fee and registering with Pallass guild. If he needed a passport, hed been afraid hed have to rush and try to do everything in a day.

That would begreat, Octavia. Are you sure? Are you not charging me enough?

She gave him a thumbs up as she pulled at the thread along her neck, embarrassed.

Im usually too aggressive on prices. Besides, youre my best [Driver]. Its a deal. Lets call it six days. Six days, and Ill be on the beach. Erin told me shes makinganother new beach soon, with Ulvamas help, so I think Ill be busy. If I nip in, itll just be to do a few things like sunscreen, nothing big. Ohand keep the door closed. Reagen, the cat, is about, and hes a hassle.

That was how, despite his best efforts, Rhaldon found himself working in Octavias shop for his first alchemy experiments. But he was still confident Erin didnt know who he was. Definitely. Hed said and done nothing to tip her off, and to her, he was just Termins apprentice.

Safe in his anonymity, Rhaldon delivered the rest of his load, then hurried to bring in his equipment and set up for this first real attempt. It might be an amateurs job, but he set up everything on the stations that Octavia had assigned and ate dinner at the inn.

The nights meal was dumplings. Hot, with sauces galore to dip in. A beach-crowd was eating ravenously, and Erin was muttering about her new beach, which was going to have a diving platform and be on stilts.

But her guests were still eating here, and Peggy tapped Erin on the shoulder as she looked around.

Psst, Erin. Who that? He on the list? Also, theres another stupid person there.

The Hob was making sure people werent sneaking in. Erin glanced at the young man seated in a corner, writing down notes, and at the window.

Oh, that? Thats Rhaldon. Hes allowed in. Be nice to him.

Sure thing. He some driver? Guest?

Hes from Eyes. A driver.

Erin caught herself and then glanced out the window.

And thats the poor clam-dude who keeps spying on the inn. Hold on, can you fill a plate with dumplings? Actually, make it four plates. I think I saw a few other [Spies].

You should stop feeding them. They come back. Like rats.

Well, I hear rats make great pets. Thanks, Peggy.

Erin twiddled her thumbs innocently, then got back to work. And Rhaldon, who went to sleep that night ready for a full day tomorrow, got the surprise of his life.

[Alchemist Level 1!]

[Skill Basic Alchemy obtained!]

[Skill Basic Identification (Alchemy) obtained!]

[Skill Advanced Alchemy obtained!]

[Skill Expert Alchemy obtained!]

[Skill Rapid Reaction obtained!]

Huh? What happened yesterday?

When Rhaldon sat up in bed, he was certain hed never heard a Skill geterased like that. And he was an [Alchemist]?

Already?

Even if he was Level 1, it was like something had been waiting for him to begin work. It had decided, somehow, that Rhaldons expertise meant he was already gifted with [Expert Alchemy]and two other Skills!

[Basic Identification] wasnt much use. Most [Alchemists] got it, and it told Rhaldon things about the world that were debatably useful.

Likehe stared at his cup in the morning and realized it was made of glass. And the water in it was water.

Amazing. On the other hand, it would be invaluable if he had two white powders and couldnt tell them apart. Not that you ever wanted to be in that situation, but Rhaldon saw the benefit.

But Rhaldon tried the Skill on a pile of dirt he scraped up from under the snow and got dirt. So it probably meant that he needed a higher level of the Skill before it told him more helpful stuff. Dirt could encompass clay, various ashes, and more.

As for [Rapid Reaction]he hoped he could turn that one on and off. Or he might get some weird, and potentially dangerous, reactions happening due to the chemical kinetics. Regulating pressure by regulating speed would be useful in a very controlled experiment. Conversely, he bet it would be most useful in shortening a long procedure.

Octavia was mildly impressed that Rhaldon had the class when he told her, though he pretended hed just been trying his hand at alchemy before this.

Well, now I know youre serious. [Rapid Reaction]s nice. [Basic Alchemy] means youll know your way around the shop. Im getting out of your hair! I know what its likeaah, my hair!

She hurried off and then ran back for a new hairstyle she was going to change into. Rhaldon still wasnt quite over Stitch-peoples ability to replace body parts, but he began to wish for it now as he looked around the laboratory.

Okay. Here I am. Im ready. Im all alone, andits time to do this. Im not doing anything crazy. Just breathe and follow what you know. Okay.

He felt weirdly nervous his first time doing this, and hed been a research assistant! But the nerves were a good sign. It meant he was taking this seriously. In fact, Rhaldon was going to take copious notes, and he only wished his smartphone had juice. If it did, hed record himself working so he could critique himself and contrast.

He wondered how the laptop seemed to always be charged. At any rate, Rhaldon was building himself a lab procedure, and he was working so hard that even a certain Goblin took pity on him.

Gothica kicked open a cupboard, and Rhaldon screamed. She crawled out, waving at him.

Sorry. Dont is scared. Was going to scare Ishkr. Have fun.

She walked out, and Rhaldon stood there, heart pounding out of his chest for a few minutes. Only when he heard Ishkr screaming in the basement did he come back to himself.

Okay. Back to it. The best way for Rhaldon, a chemist, to enter into the world of alchemy was to contrast what it was like doing a lab procedure back home. His goal for today?

Make a Potion of Warmth.

It was one of the simplest potions an [Alchemist] could make, and yet it was highly useful to prove whether he could do this. And cruciallyit was drinkable, so he had better get it right.

Now was, perhaps, a good time for Rhaldon to appreciate the fact that this world had a precursor to Earths chemistry glassware.

The first thing he set up was an Erlenmeyer flask and burner, which were essentially the workhorses of modern alchemy. No one called it an Erlenmeyer flaskor volumetric flask. They had their own names, although some [Alchemists] had distressing terms like that triangle one or the tube thing. But that was Rhaldons setup. Well, that and a mortar and pestle.

As a research assistant, processing ingredients wasnt something he was unfamiliar with, but [Alchemists] would actually skin animals, grind bones up, and extract what they needed by hand if they had to. Functionally, they hired dedicated [Butchers] or other specialists to get most of their ingredients.

However, it was when he switched on the burner that the magic began, literally. Because Octavia was no longer the poor [Alchemist] who had to rely on a very small, contained flame in what was essentially a lantern.

She had upgraded toheating runes. Heating runes, which you could toggle by pressing your finger against the spell circuit worked into the wood counter. Rhaldon admired the beautiful, almost horseshoe-like design and put that one on Earths level.

Hot plates. Arguablyeven more compact than his worlds. Although, he noted as he passed his hand over the surface

Heats slower. Plus, Octavia had told him that if he needed to get something to a really hot boil, he should use an actual flame and charcoal.

So it seemed that Earth won against magic, at least the kind Octavia would have, in output. Nevertheless, this was how most potions were made. You heated water upthen you tossed your first ingredient in.

Next, Rhaldon consulted his recipe, his legitimate, Guild of Alchemists in Pallass-bought recipe. And he stared at it for a long time.

Warming Potion (Low-Grade)

-3 Adult Ember Salamander Skins (bones and organs unnecessary)

-A flask of water (freshwater)

-5+ Morning Marigolds (check for magical, glowing pistils. Add more for effect.)

-Sages Water, candles glow of magic.

Hed added the parts in parentheses. This was a single slip of paper where you could buy an actual books worth of recipes, notes on alchemy ingredients; essentially, you paid for all the available, public knowledge of [Alchemists].

But it, uh.

Wow.

The problem was this was apparently so standard that Xif and Octavia had both said it was a bit vague, but appropriate for any [Alchemist] to use.

Saliss had just laughed at it, which said that he probably understood why Rhaldon grimaced.

The problem wasimpreciseness. There were no units of measurement, or if there were

Three adult salamander skins? That didnt tell Rhaldon how much. Every [Alchemist] would have a different amount, and maybe it didnt matter, sure, and you got the result. But it was wasteful, and the fact that the water was just freshwater was crazy to Rhaldon.

Did you want distilled water? Was there an actual difference between some kinds of water? Chemists tried to even make sure their water was constantevery single well might give you wildly different results. They used deionized water, but Rhaldon could imagine there was even more nuance here.

He wasnt going to even address the Sages Water thing; hed have to see it when he came to it.

So this is why alchemy is where it is. Even if they want to share thingsand there are worse recipes out there?

Rhaldon got to work with a sigh. He opened a jar and began to pull out several long, orange-and-red pieces of dried skin. Salamanders, harvested from the town of Romswicht, where natural hot springs and volcanic activity attracted the precious things.

He felt vaguely bad for them, since thousands were killed and harvested each month. Was the harvesting sustainable, especially in the winter?

Well, he had three, and now Rhaldon came to his first problem.

Measurements. He consulted his notes and grimaced againbecause he had noticed this world adopted the imperial, US system of measurements except in one place.

Grams? Yep. We use those. Why?

Rhaldon stopped writing down terms as he looked at Xif.

Grams? But grams are

Metric. He was exceptionally grateful, because hed feared that hed be convertingif he even could remember the damn formulaounces and other bullshit into formulas he recognized. But Xif seemed to think it was normal.

Oh, you must think were talking about ounces. Thats for [Drivers] and people who work with, uh, water and such, actually. Not that they generally measure things, but its ounces, pounds, stones, and hundredweight.

Horrifying. But it seemed [Alchemists] did know how to talk Rhaldons language.

So you know grams? What aboutmoles?

Ive never used one in alchemy! Hah! Erwas that an actual measurement?

Xif laughed, and Rhaldons heart sank, but the Gnoll reassured him.

Oh, we know liters. My, you do know [Alchemist] measurements. Which is good. To your point about salamander skins being imprecise languageits happened. Generally, we mark deliveries as Alchemist-only, but there have been bad incidents. Someone sends a Jar of Lightning to some poor damn [Builders] because they forgot the n.

He shook his head as Rhaldon shuddered. But it happened on Earth, too. He knew a story about someone delivering germanium gas to a local garden center because they thought it was geraniums. Caution was essential. And the measurements this world used?

Confusing! Rhaldon scratched his head and realized something was off instantly. These metric units that chemists used were SI Units, standardized units that even the United States used because, well, it would be stupid for them to stick to their system of measurement in this case.

So why did [Alchemists] use this system if the world used the very rare imperial system only common in a few countries, including the USA? And why do they use Fahrenheit over Celsius if they switched over everything else?

Something was up. It was, to Rhaldon, as if someone had imported laws from America straight into this world. And realized quickly that it didnt work with alchemy. Almosthis back crawled as Xif found a little sheet for him to use as a reference guide

Almost as if someone had been observing Earth.

Looks like 156 grams. Give or take.

One of Rhaldons purchases was a very primitive scale he was using to weigh the salamander skins. But it was imprecise, and he was just moving a little slider around to balance the scales. He didnt like it, but lacking anything better

The water was boiling by now, and he had a choice to make. The recipe just said huck the salamander skins into the water, and some [Alchemists]like Itimendidnt even wash their ingredients.

Rhaldon did wash the salamander skins. In fact, he even cleaned them of dirt and diced the salamanders up with a knife to make sure theyd render down.

Now, Rhaldon was not someone who liked handling dead things. He was not into that area of chemistry, and while hed done dissections beforehe should have been fat-fingering the knife.

Instead, he was so smooth and fast that he caught himself and realized he was navigating an unfamiliar laboratoryOctavias workstationas if he had been here a month. He almost knew where she kept all the things he needed. Instead of wasting time hunting around for something like a wayward soul in someone elses kitchen, Rhaldon felt like he owned this space.

That was [Expert Alchemy], and it gave him a huge surge of confidence. He even felt like he was checking the beakers and put one aside to tell Octavia it had a hairline crack in it. Rhaldon might not have realized it, but one Skill was already putting him far ahead of what any junior [Alchemist] could manage.

And yet, he was still a novice at the actual process itself. So while Rhaldon cleaned and diced the skins, he was nervous that he might take out a necessary oil in the process if he scrubbed, so he decided that was the most hed do. His job was to compare the alchemical method to his own.

The skins went into the water, sank into the clear liquid, and sat there. Rhaldon waited, checked his notes, and sighed.

Here comes the fun part. Stirring.

Back home, he would have used a stir-bar, which was a tiny little magnet youd toss into the bottom of a flask. It looked like a little cylinder that was fat in the middle that was made of something non-reactive. The trick that someone had come up with was that since it was a magnet, if there was a second magnet below itthe stir-bar would spin around in the flask.

You could twist a knob, and itd keep everything moving as long as you had power. It had been very cool to a younger Rhaldon. Now, he longed for one after the first ten minutes of stirring the hot, steaming flask with a glass rod.

The issue of stirring, actually, was another good case-study of how [Alchemists] werent up to a universal standard.

Rhaldon had used heavy flasks and clamped things down to prevent the dangers of knocking anything over, and Octavia did the same.

Saliss was an old-fashioned Drake. He stirred by hand.

[Quickened Mixture]. Another basic time-saving Skill. Youll get a lot if you go into the job, kid.

He winked at Rhaldon, who had to stand behind some safety-glass that Saliss had recently installed into his private lab. He let no one in, and as Rhaldon had observed, Saliss was the most safety-conscious [Alchemist].

So you stir a mixture for?

The Drake waved a claw, yawning. And he was holding the flask in his hand.

Hours. I can do it in my sleep. Or read a book. I need to. The stuff I make? It blows up. I have to watch for the unexpected, and if its a high-level potion, the odds of something going wrong midway through? You want to eat a thousand gold pieces of ingredients? Dont worry about me holding it. Never copy me; Im burn proof, and I like to feel the temperature changes if this thing isnt clamped down.

He waved the tube he was holding as he stirred, and Rhaldon stared. So he actually stirred the entire time. He was a madman.

Xif, by contrast, was another kind of old-fashioned [Alchemist] who had eliminated the need to stir with an unlimited, theoretically tireless resource: apprentices.

Saliss would stir everything by claw. He hates making apprentices do itI think he was given too much menial work. But its a traditional job for young [Alchemists] to do grunt work. Speaking of whichkeep your paws moving!

He barked left, and the [Apprentices] kept mixing various tonics under his charge. He was making Potions of Warmth too, though his were higher grade. So they were, in fact, called Potions of Cold Resistance.

So these are the same recipes as the one I have, but theyre called Cold Resistance because theyre better?

Xif chuckled as he subtly blocked Rhaldons view of his ingredients. He waggled a finger.

Sorry, young man, but even for my best delivery drivermy potions are the best-sellers in Pallass. Saliss doesnt even have better.

Because he doesnt sell his potions to anyone.

Someone muttered, and Xifs head snapped around with a glare, but he couldnt tell whod said it. He cleared his throat meaningfully.

A lot of potions are the same effectbut scaled up. You know Potions of Speed? Well, a Potion of Haste is a cut above. [Speed]. [Haste]. Just like the spells and Skills. We have a grading system tooits all rough measurements like adventurers love, but theres a more in-depth way to measure a potions magical power.

Can you tell me more?

Rhaldons eyes lit up, and Xif indulgently turned from inspecting his materials.

Oh, of course. Keep working, all of you! Dont make me look bad in front of my guest

Poor hands. Poor apprentices. Octavia was a manual-stirrer too, but Itimen and Zeomtoril had tried to replicate ways to stir without having to do it themselves.

Itimen, that mad fellow, had enacted his method by creating an odd contraption out of wood. It was a system of cranks such that if you ran water into a primitive waterwheel, it would spinand move a bunch of wooden arms in a circular motion. He had attached it to a river running close by his shop, and the crazy contraption broke down all the time and constantly got stuck.

I learned it from Pallass! Damn thingsbut I have new gearies coming, and those Dwarves say they can make it better. Anything to save my poor wrist.

Decades of manual-stirring had given him what Rhaldon suspected was carpal tunnel, and the old man winced when he moved it in the motion. Rhaldon instantly asked if hed ever done any stretches, and Itimen gamely tried to stretch out his arms.

Stretching? You young people with your notions. Why would thataaah, aah, thats stiff. A massage will do me right. I havent had one of those in eight years. I should go, butmy mixture!

As for Zeomtoril, he had the most logical, if costly, solution. When Rhaldon came back to him on one of his trips and casually brought up the bane of hands, the [Genius Polymath] smirked.

Ah, southern [Alchemists]. The poor and, dare I suggest, unwashed masses. Let me show you, Driver, why the north can produce enough alchemyeven if I admit quality is sometimes not up to par.

That was the first time hed let Rhaldon in his laboratory, and Rhaldon instantly saw how someone with means could do it.

Golems.

Or rather, Golem arms. There were three mounted to plaques on the wall. All they did was stir. Rhaldon stared at the wooden arm nearest him in a kind of horrified fascination.

It takes some people like that. The horror of dispossessed limbs. Dullahans find it quite aesthetically pleasing. In truth, the arm is not necessary, but House Terland refuses to make a more functional, streamlined limb. I postulated that if the circle-motion is all thats necessarywell, as you can see, three are quite expensive.

Even he could only afford three Golem stirring-arms, though that was because more were frankly a waste. Zeomtoril did admit that hed had more help.

I, ah, had a Golem assistant. Very handy, if incompetent at anything complex. Keeping them away from delicate work was mandatory, but there are some variants that can be trusted even in a high-level [Alchemist]s shop. Mine, ah, I had to, er, pawn off owing to financial troubles before I met Calidus. I doubt Saliss would trust one in his laboratory, though.

Why?

Of course. I contribute to it. Oh. Here it is.

Both had their own personal guild books out and found the entry on Gaarhweed.

No known uses. Huh. You know, that is often double-checked by an [Alchemist]. Not a [Journeyman]. But I see here that was Journeyman Alchemist Resevn. Isnt that Pallass current Guildmaster?

Saliss voice was light. Too light. Octavia was sitting there, looking from Gnoll to Drake and leaning back in her chair as Rhaldon kept shaking with excitement. Xif raised his brows.

You dont know him?

Is he over Level 40? Even if he is

I heard he was a contemporary of yours, Master Saliss. The [Clerk] mentioned it.

Rhaldons excitement had suddenly turned into another feeling, and Saliss glanced up very slowly.

Really now? Well, he must be good because the Gaarhweedhah, he must have named it himselfthat Ive been using? Hes certified his own entry that its useless. Or maybe he dove into the old books, and that was what they said. But I told the Guild to check everything the Gnolls sent me. Because theyre the best tribe in Izril for reagents, and I spent four years off and on gaining their trust. But clearly, Rhaldons the liar.

What? Master

Octavia protested until Saliss, blank-faced, produced some of the Acid Fly acid. He popped a stem into the jar and watched it begin to bubble.

Nothings going to happen. Because if it did

A bit of the mixture boiled outwards and landed in Xifs fur. Saliss stoppered the bottle, halting the oxygen-based reaction, and Xif spoke levelly.

Your eyes must have deceived you, Saliss. Try again.

The Drake did. They both stared at the bubbling liquid, then Saliss stood up.

Apprentice, Im going back to Pallass. Urgent business. Xif, do you want to stop at your shop?

I think so. Give me five seconds to nip inoh, no. Wait. My apprentices. Some are at the beach

Saliss paused, claw on the doorframe, and turned theatrically as he began to walk down the common room of the inn.

Good point. Rhaldon, Octavia, you had better come with us. I know youre both on holiday, or should be, but you have to see how professional [Alchemists] settle things professionally.

Erin Solstice, in her wheelchair, began to roll after Rhaldon and Octavia as they stood up, but Saliss stopped her with one foot. He wagged a finger.

[Alchemists] only, Erin.

Aw.

Professional [Alchemists] milled about in the Alchemists Guild, muttering about the beach and Xifs apprentices and being very professional in the things they did.

Some were turning in potions or taking orders, others were reading from the expensive guild books, which were very expensive and, oh yes, trustworthy.

The Guildmaster was, in fact, in the main room, nodding as he spoke to lesser [Alchemists], chastising them on mistakes, promising to improve their work, when someone kicked the doors in.

Whos kickingoh, Master Saliss.

The [Clerk] roared, then sat back down and tried to beam. Because Saliss of Lights seldom came here, and the other [Alchemists] turned as the greatest mind of their city entered. A figure of dismay because he made them look bad. Of awe, because he could create a Potion of Youth and could fight. Of fear, because he was Saliss.

But there was also Xif, who was the best [Alchemist] who people wanted to work with. The Gnoll was normally gruff at worst, friendly, whod check over your work and maybe give you pointers. He knew how to make money, and right now

His face was blank. And he was flanked by all eight of his current apprentices, Garuda, Dullahan, Drakes, and Gnolls.

And he was holding a club.

The professional alchemists paused as they saw the mark of extreme professionalism in Xifs paws. For, no matter where or who they were, [Alchemists] settled things directly. If they stole from each other, if they quarreled

Xif spoke into the sudden silence, and his voice was loud, carrying, and he looked straight at Guildmaster Resevn.

Gaarhweed is not useless.

You could have heard a pin drop. Xif raised the Guide to Alchemy, published by the Guild of Alchemists in Pallass and sold across Izril. Saliss held up a match. The book slowly began to burn as the [Clerk] slowly tried to sink under the desk. Xif continued, voice deadpan. Then it rose in a shout.

Everything in this book written by Resevn is suspect. Every book, recipeGaarhweed. Is not. Useless!

Then he roared, and the [Alchemists] of professionalism leapt up, screaming, shouting, and the first one swung a chair into the Drakes who surged to protect Resevn. A Garuda tried to kick him in the face as he ran for it, and the Guild of Alchemists brawl engulfed a hundred [Alchemists] in the first ten minutesthen spilled into the street, and three entire floors were cordoned off by the Watch before it was done.

Rhaldons head still hurt from getting hit with a chair. But he had hit at least eight idiots, and hed watched Xif pick up and throw the Guildmaster off the third floor.

Here was the thing about alchemists. When he told that to Itimen, the old [Alchemist] just nodded.

And is he dead?

No.

Pity. Because Im going to mail him an exploding something. Later, later. I wouldnt use you, Rhaldon. That idiot set back alchemyhow long? Over what, Drake pride? Or was it incompetence? How many people defended him?

Very few, actually. It turned out [Alchemists] were a bit like people from Earth. They might fight each other and gouge on prices, but they understood that if one person ruined it for them, everyone suffered.

The knowledge that Gaarhweed had been renamed and had such a huge value wasnt the only thing that Rhaldon had discovered. It called into questioneverythingthe Guildmaster had overseen, and the irony was that few people understood Rhaldons acid-based distillation.

Itimen did, and the old [Experimenter Alchemist] stared at Rhaldon hard when the young man gave him a neat report and suggestions on how to add units to his recipes.

Young man. I would ask if youre some spy with a knife to your throat, but I dont think you are. Im more curious as to why you gave me this. Assuming it doesnt explode

Im a new kind of [Alchemist], Master Itimen.

The old man sat there, reading Rhaldons notes, and when he looked up, his eyes were misty a second.

No. An old kind, perhaps, but whatever you arethank you. Here. Take this.

He offered Rhaldon a sheaf of his own notes in return, and Rhaldon tried to refusethen he accepted it because this was the start of something.

[Alchemist Level 13!]

[Skill Panic Dodge obtained!]

There was more to [Alchemists] than alchemy. Zeomtoril just listened to Rhaldons story, then stared at the yellow vial that the young man offered him.

So this is salamander essencedistilled. If you have it, I take it there are more effects than justwarmth? Or you would simply say it.

It, uhit has an interesting effect.

The [Polymath] inspected the vial, but before he could take it, another hand snatched it, and Calidus Reinhart eyed the yellow liquid.

Hmm. Well, it cannot be dangerous since its a component of a Potion of Warmth. Sobottoms up.

He popped the lid, took down the entire vial, and grimaced.

Whew! It tastes horrible!

Rhaldon recoiledthen stepped back further as Calidus felt his stomach, and Zeomtoril cursed at him.

Calidus, you madman

Take notes, Zeomtoril. Life should be funand this is more fun than drinking. Strange, Im not feeling hot. But I am feeling. Whew.WheeeeewI am feeling something!

Calidus flushed, and then he exhaled, and while he didnt blow out steam, he suddenly ripped at his clothes.

Dead gods, I feel invigorated! No, wait, thats not it.

He glanced at Rhaldon, and the young man covered his face. Calidus looked down and exclaimed.

My great, only friend! Zeomtoril, Calidus Reinhart the Second rises valiantly! So thats

He started laughing. Zeomtoril looked down, then grimaced.

Whdead gods.

Calidus turned and beamed.

This is the greatest discovery of a lifetime. I would hug you, Rhaldon, but you are not the young lady I need to proposition. I will take everything you can make! Work for me!

But he was already turning and charging down the corridors.

All the men of Izril of a certain age will thank you! This is the greatest

And that was how Rhaldon made his first name for himself. The worst part was Calidus wanting to name it Rhaldons Superior Tonic of Virility. But it was a start. While Rhaldon began with silly experiments and gamesCalidus Reinhart had put his eyes on the [Alchemist] who had discovered something new with new methods.

What might he achieve? Nothing could stop the [Lord]s mind from churning, and he could not let an opportunity like that pass. But then againif all Rhaldon needed was a shop, say, a partnership or his own lab? A hand?

Erin Solstice had two. And that great Drake, Saliss of Lights

He began to turn and see that world of chemistry waiting for him.

Everyone threw Rhaldon a party. From Calidus ragers and [Assassins] coming over to ask Rhaldon for samples, to Itimen firing off alchemical explosions before the Watch came to chase him and Rhaldon and the lesser [Alchemists].

Octavia, Xif, and members of the Guild of Alchemists still shaken up by everything, all accoladed him in their own way.

But the person whose congratulations meant the most to Rhaldon was the highest-level [Alchemist] of them all, Saliss of Lights.

Saliss didnt have a party. He just invited Rhaldon into his home.

By which he meant his real home. Rhaldon sat in a surprisingly neat living room and stared around at the place that so few people had ever seen.

It lookednice to live in. Neat. Tidy. There were mage-pictures on the walls, and Saliss even had old hand-me-downs from the family. It was so ordinary that Rhaldon suspected there was something magical about the house, hidden further beyond the living room connected to the entrance.

And there was. But Saliss just sat down in pants, no less, and some casual clothing with spiderweb elements embroidered on the back and handed Rhaldon a cup of spicy something.

Yellat tea. Like the clothing?

Rhaldon had been staring.

Wheres it from?

Nerrhavias Fallen. Everything here is from thereor from my family. Lots of stuff that belongs to a Walled Family. We technically got made one when my old man, Chaldion, became [Grand Strategist].

Oh. So theyre heirlooms?

Saliss paused and laughed a bit.

Hah. Well, yes. If anyone was going to succeed me. Its not all rare. I inherited this place after my parents passed on. My father died in one of our stupid warswhich is all of themand my mother followed him.

Im sorry.

Saliss stretched out, shaking his head.

They were soldiers. Anyways, this isnt really all my stuff. I just live here, now and then. When Im goneIll make the old man deal with it.

He looked around. There was no one else.

What about Onieva? I thought I heard she was a cousin of yours?

Again, the Named-rank [Alchemist] paused, then smiled.

Oh, right. Ill give it to her. Or not. I wouldnt want her to inherit all this.

He gestured around at a flag hanging on the walls, books hand-written by his family, a picture of a Guild in Nerrhavias Fallen with a waving Drake and a bunch of [Alchemists]

Rhaldon stared at it until he noticed Saliss eyes. He jerked away, but everywhere he looked revealed something. Saliss didnt seem to mind. He just sat there a second, and Rhaldon looked at him.

Saliss of Lights, the greatest adventurer-alchemist living. He was a strange person. He seemed both casual and knowing. What Rhaldon had forgotten while consulting Saliss for advice was that he was like Xif, a master of his field, someone for even Earths professionals to listen to and respectand beyond Xif.

You really do have promise, kid. Dont let them tell you youre perfect. Dont let them manipulate you. Its a hard thing to figure out, and I bet youll mess up. But youre talented. Promising. Not many people could do what you did, even with all your knowledge of Earth.

He knew. Rhaldon flushed. Erin had known, and so had Saliss. But the Drake winked softly, and Rhaldon felt the weight of his stare.

I wont

You will. Just remember that as proud as you feel, it will humble you. Humble you, and rip pieces off your face if you make a mistake or take it lightly. Respect it. We play around with magic and Sages Grass, but someday you will touch things that can melt the Walled Cities themselves. When you doif you have a fat head, youll die.

He wasnt saying it like a warning. Just a kind of taking Rhaldon aside to have a quiet word with him as Saliss found a tin of crackers and gave Rhaldon a treat with the Yellat tea. And somehow, that made Rhaldon get chills all over.

Because Saliss was looking at him. And the [Alchemist] didnt play with his enemies. Sometimes he annoyed his allies, but that was often because he didnt always respect them.

When he made war, or a point, he was direct. So the [Alchemist] just pulled something out and put it on the table.

Your chemistry. Does it reach this far? I just made this. Dont tell anyone I can do it.

A glowing, viridian potion lit up the room, and Rhaldons heart began beating a thousand beats a minute. He couldnt have said why, only that something in him knew what it was before Saliss told him.

A Potion of Reverse Time. A Potion of De-Aging. Call it what you want. Its not a Potion of Youth; its the real thing. Have you made it yet?

Thyou can make it?

Saliss sat back, and somehow, he seemed like he was trying to look as normal as possible. He wore old silk clothing, carefully maintained, from the days when a young Pallassian Drake had gone to Nerrhavias Fallen to learn from the masters.

He looked different than most people in his Walled City of Inventions, but it wasnt the same as being naked. He had Rhaldon in his home, not his workshop filled with modern chemistry and alchemy joining hands and powerful magic.

Yet here, Rhaldon was reminded of Saliss own wonders. The Drake who had done what no science of Earth had come close to. He closed his eyes as Rhaldon inspected the potion with shaking hands.

Dont worry about dropping it. Its in a good container. Do what you want with it.

His hands were slippery with sweat. He felt like he was about to have a panic attack. The potion was stoppered behind magic, and yet when he touched it, Rhaldon swore he felt like he was sixteen again. He felt like he remembered all the energy that had ever been in his body.

And simultaneouslyhe felt old, as if the remaining life force in his veins was reacting to the small ampule of liquid. Sayingthe very essence of it was in that potion.

Do you want to try a drop?

Then Saliss scared him more than anything else. Rhaldon hesitated.

N-no.

Okay. I wasnt sure youd believe me. So Earth hasnt made this.

No one has. You can make this.

Saliss just sat there, arms resting on his knees, as he hunched over, looking at Rhaldon. His eyes opened wider.

It is my Great Discovery. In Nerrhavias Fallen, they used to say that any [Alchemist] worthy of greatness would discover one new, true, or glorious thing. When I found out how to make this potion, I reached Level 50. Because I wanted to reverse time. I can only manage two years. It costs a fortune. It is impractical, unscalable, and selfish. I could have tried to make a panacea or another Sages Grass. But all I wanted was to reverse time once and get a moment of peace and victory.

He looked sad, then, regretful, and guilty. Rhaldon had to take his hands away from the vial and rest them, still shaking, on the table. The liquid in the teacups slopped around.

Did you?

Not yet.

That said it all. The Drake picked up the vial, and tucked it away.

Not yet. But I have time. Time enough to make another, or get my ending. If not, Ill just buy more time, eh? All I have to do is brew a potion every two years.

He smiled lightly at the joke. Then he looked at Rhaldon.

If only I wasnt a soldier, I could have done more. But I am. You practice a purer, more innocent form of my madness, Rhaldon. I have faith in you. If you ever stand at a crossroads, think carefully into what you use your talents for. For it will change you. Forever. If you ever want to talk, my door is open.

He met Rhaldons eyes, and the young man beheld this worlds great alchemy and shivered. With delight. With intoxication.

With fear. He wanted to see more. More, and moreand he wondered what was holding Saliss back. Then he remembered the racks of potions brewing that exploded or conjured acid clouds or lightning. And it seemed so paltry and worthless compared to that vial.

That was Saliss of Lights. Then he rose, and when Rhaldon tried to be respectful, Saliss just shoved him and laughed. Rhaldon never forgot what he saw.

In the end, Rhaldon had failed, completely and utterly, at his main task. Which was keeping hidden.

He had done so well, or at least, done enough at the start to fool almost everyone. But the moment he had begun work, within a week, he had done what Earthers did.

Those who came here with talents stood under spotlights. Nothey were like lighthouses on a dark sea. Burning beacons of knowledge, of alternate ideas. They might not know how it was all done, but they understood where it could go.

To those at the top of their craft, like Saliss, or even masters like Pelt, Valeterisa, they shone a fierce, sometimes painfully obvious lantern at a path forwards.

It was not always the most correct one, and sometimes these shortcuts were embarrassing to tread, and people like Felkhr refused to run down them. Earthers were like that. Exasperating. Valuable as gems.

After Rhaldons reinvention of his potion, they saw it. After returning from a successful proposition, Calidus Reinhart practically chased Rhaldon down, trying to get the young man to commit to working in his mansion or domain. He was offering to set Rhaldon up with a laboratory equivalent to Zeomtorilsfree, so long as he let Calidus market his ideas.

The [Lord] was sitting in his banquet hall, at the long table, thinking. He thought because he was bored. There was nothing for him to do and all his passions had become grey and empty. And not much to pursue, at the moment. The beach was no good. Hed checked, and worming his way in there wouldnt be easyplus, it was too far. But imagine hot sun, sex on the beach

That was because Calidus listened to the intrusive thoughts, the voice in his head that told him Rhaldon was something. Something so odd that Calidus saw the young man offthen turned and went to find an [Assassin].

Hey. Do you have a leader? I assume its the fellow with that gold half-mask? I require a meeting with the Assassins Guild or whomever you are.

One of the relaxing [Assassins] glanced up as they read a book from Calidus library. They had happily infested his mansion, and the [Lord], aside from his attempts to flirt with every female [Assassin] running, was a useful host.

Their mistake was thinking him a nave fool.

We are not a Guild. I will find our current leader and ask him to see you tonight.

Calidus Reinhart saw the loafing figure, who had a vest filled with knives on and had divested their black outfit while in safety, go back to reading. The [Lord] clasped his hands together with a huge smile.

Excellent. Thank you. Go get him now.

The [Assassin] paused. They debated whether it was smart to ignore that and continue reading. Then they slowly closed the book with a loud sigh. They were making a show of being slowwhen Calidus reached down and picked them up with both hands. The figure jerked. Then stared up into the [Genius of Sloth]s gaze.

I am going. Unhand me.

I know. Run.

The [Lord] had no aura. He was not physically impressive, any more than a man his size was. He was certainly no killer. But he was a Reinhart. The [Assassin] hesitated, and Calidus screamed at him with a huge smile on his face.

Run!

No fear. Just an intensity bordering on madness. When the annoyed leader of the [Assassins] and a few more figures found Calidus, he was striding around his banquet hall.

Find out who he is. Find out who he is and who Aunt Magnolias guests were. I want a report now. Dont do it via the underworld. Dont get caught. No, noI heard you lot muttering about young men and women in Wistram. Why. Who are they? Theyre someone. Aunt Magnolia wont tell me. Find out.

He was striding around, and the leader wondered if Calidus had taken drugs. He tried for diplomacy.

Lord Calidus. We are here to aid you in certain endeavors, but we report toyour grandfather. To our mutual associates. We are not under

Calidus was pacing around, trying to drink his way out of thinking. When he heard that, he bull-rushed the [Assassin Leader]. The others stepped away, but the leader didnt. He caught Calidus grip, but the [Lord] just stood there, looming over him.

His eyes were wild with unmatched intellect.

Youre going to complain to my grandfather and rein me in. You want an idiot. I wish I were an idiot. But Regis doesnt know who Rhaldon is. If he did, hed send you after him in a heartbeat. Go complain. Then, when he tells you to investigate, hell put you against Rhaldons friends like an idiot. And that includes Saliss of Lights. So, when you complain to Regis, let me know so I can watch Assassins versus Saliss round two. But dont do it near my lands. I dont need another lake.

What? What are you talking?

The leader of the [Assassins] heart leapt in fear at the thought of fighting the Named-rank who had killed more [Assassins] than anyone since the Creler Wars in a single moment. He couldnt even understand what Calidus was saying.

The [Lord] looked so impatient at having to explain.

Ask Zeomtoril! Nojust figure it out. My grandfather knows about whatever Rhaldon and those young people at Wistram are.

Earthers.

Another [Assassin] muttered it. The other figures turned to him.

I heard the name. Theyre called Earthers. Theyre a valuable commodity.

As what? Slaves?

Calidus eyes were flickering.

Not [Slaves]. Theyre not members of a paradise like Khelt. Or Samal. Thats stupid. Samal isnt that advanced. But they know things. Erin Solstice is one. So is that amazing Singer. I want her to spit in my face. Theyre everywhere. Magnolia had some, and she got rid of them. They are from somewhere else. The future? That also sounds stupid. Another dimension?

His head was splitting, and he couldnt stop. He held his head and began screaming.

Zeomtoril! Someone get Zeomtoril!

An [Assassin] edged out of the room. The others tried to keep up.

But Regis Reinhart knows? Or doesnt know?

He knows they exist. But he has no hands. Hes always worked through the family head, and Magnolia hates him. He doesnt know about Rhaldon, or hed have you grab him. Its obvious!

Oh. That makes sense.

Of course it does. Then hell say, because he must know, go get this Rhaldon. To you. And you might say he has friends, but Grandfather doesnt care. Hes a Reinhart! And that leads to the part where Saliss ponders where his Driver isbecause Rhaldon is a genius [Alchemist]and he comes looking. Then I watch him melt you into puddles, and its a waste of damn time! But Grandfather wont care. If he has Rhaldon, hell war with Saliss and Pallass. Either way, youre a stain on my carpets! Zeomtoril! Where are you?

The [Polymath] finally came running. By now, the [Assassins] were nervous. Everything Calidus saidmade sense.

They had always been agents of the nobility of Izril, and dying in a feud with a Walled City sounded right up their alley. Regis didnt care that the Assassins Guild had been decimated with the Circle of Thorns falling. He wouldnt care if they got killed making an enemy of Rhaldons friends.

He could literally buy more [Assassins]they were rebuilding the guild right now. They were expendable, that was the point, and only Calidus saw it. He saw the board, he saw all the strange happenings lining up and the Earthers

His head was killing him. The [Lord] was thinking so hard and fast he was about to get a nosebleed. He turned to Zeomtoril, and another side of their relationship unveiled itself to their guests.

Zeomtoril. That young man

I know hes gone.

No. Damn him. Damn the entire game of chessI cant stop thinking. I need you to use your Skill.

Now? But I was saving it for

Calidus shook the slimmer [Polymath] so hard Zeomtorils head rattled.

Help me out or Ill go crazy! Do it!

The [Polymath] froze, realized Calidus was in a state that might drive him to madness or a self-harm beyond regular, and gave in. He turned to the [Assassins].

Get the servants. Well both be out of it. Dead gods, I wish Rhaldon were here.

The servants? To do what?

The [Assassins] were getting weirded out, and that was saying something, for them. By now, three dozen figures were watching Calidus drinkingwater? Zeomtoril just shouted.

They know. Calidus[Blinding Insight of the Madman]!

His eyes shone an unhealthy yellow, a too-bright light, and Calidus own gaze lit up. They swept the room, the two of them, like they were possessed. Like something was exploding out of their heads. Ideas in such profusion it leaked out their eyes. Then

The two went insane.

When Calidus Reinhart lost himself, the servants knew to do three things. One, give him everything he wanted, be it paper and utensils, things to draw on or tinker with, and so on.

Two, give him food and water.

Threestay out of the way.

Calidus had always had difficulties, but he was a Reinhart. That came with the territory. Nosebleeds and wild fits where his mind raced ahead of his body or anyones ability to keep up? It had propelled him into drinkingand then meeting Zeomtoril.

The [Polymath]s Skill affected both of them, an odd effect of one of Calidus Skills.

[Genius of Sloth]. One of his Skills was [Calculable Insight: Copy Skill (Intellect)]. It meant that any intellect-based Skill used in his presence activated on him. If he wanted it to.

To the two of them, it was like the rest of the world hung in slow motion and their minds exploded into possibilities. They extrapolated, reached leaps of logic in moments, and spoke so fast that it became gibberish even to each other, and the two raved and waved their arms at each other as they tried to communicate what they were thinking.

This was a bador good one. It lasted nearly three hours, and in that span of time, the silent [Assassins] observed everything from Calidus drawing on the walls with ink, to Zeomtoril screaming for every single newspaper that had ever been printed and rifling through them, eyes blurring with movement.

Afterwards, they collapsed, and someone had to literally save Calidus from drowning in a soup bowl. They went comatose, and the [Lord] seemed peaceful for the first time, unconscious, spent.

When he woke up, six hours later, he entertained a group of [Assassins] in his private sitting room. He had a block of crushed snow on his head, looked hungover, and barely opened his eyes.

For their part, the most high-level [Assassins] regarded him with more respect and interest than before. Especially because they had heard some of what Calidus had screamed.

Lord Reinhart. Was what you said accurate?

What part? When I was thinking like crazy? Or when I said I would make one of those old-fashioned altars and worship your body on it like the old texts? Because I meant the latter. The former? Im not always right. I just think hard.

The other [Assassins] turned and stared silently at the Medusa, who folded her arms defensively.

The former.

Calidus smiled darkly.

I like being wrong and proven to be stupid. I would love to know that I am an idiot who thinks much of himself and all my ideas are worthless.

That was an answer in and of itself. The [Assassins] looked at each other, then one raised a hand.

Lord Reinhart. Will you elaborate on what youuncovered? The Guild of Assassins, what remains of it, has a great interest in what you might have to say. What do you mean when you said, he meant for this to happen? Your ancestor, Regis Reinhart?

Calidus just closed his eyes as he let the snow melt on his head. When he opened one bloodshot eye a crack, he croaked.

I want to see your faces. And your classes.

The [Assassins] stiffened. Calidus glared at them.

Im. Curious. Youll kill me if I reveal who you are.

We just want to know if you are telling us the truth. Nothing you say can be proven. Its just thought.

One of the [Assassins] argued weakly. Now, both of Calidus eyes opened, and his stare turned to actual malice.

I am Calidus Reinhart, you handsome bastard. I can tell youre an infiltration expert. I won that damn chess game against Erin Solstice, and I lost the ability to turn my brain off. I have been using [Store Intellect] until I ran out of room. Zeomtoril had to give me an outlet. I havent even tried my rewarded new Skill for fear itll be so damn fascinating I wont sleep again. I used to stay up for weeks at a time! Do you want me to prove it? [Brilliant Insight]!

He barked, and the [Assassins] saw his face contortsmooththen Calidus sat back. He rubbed at his face.

YouRegis told you all that one of the reasons he was going to rebuild the Guild of Assassins was to take in the children of all the Faces and Ranks who died, didnt he? He offered you all families. Stability. Intuition just said that he offered the best of you a chance at becoming flowers of Izril yourselves.

The second intellect Skill of Calidus Reinhart made the room go quiet as a grave. There was absolutely no way he could have known that. No one would have leaked it. No one had trusted Regis fool of a nephew, but Calidus lookedtired. He put his head in his hands.

Im right? Tell me Im right or wrong. Please. I have to know.

Then the uncertainty came out. The group looked at each other, then the [Infiltrator of Masks] pulled his own mask back and revealed, yes, a rather handsome mans face. The others hesitatedthen copied him, revealing scars or sometimes oddly innocuous features.

Medusa. Humans. A half-Elfthe remaining members of the Assassins Guild worthy of the name.

He promised us that, Calidus Reinhart. Did he lie? Why did you say he planned it?

Calidus just sat there. He spoke into his hands.

He didnt lie to you. Grandfather could make every living [Assassin] in the north nobility within the year. He doesnt have to lie. But how many of you think youll survive long enough to claim his bounty? Hell fill Izril with more people who owe loyalty to him. [Assassins] who do what he needs and rebuild the guild. But hell throw you into a grinder worse than fighting the Deaths first. Do you think any of you will make it? The survivors will be over Level 60. Who here can do that?

None of them raised their hands, but Calidus looked up with a huge, twisted, sad grin.

Thats hope for you. And he killed your Guild the exact same way. He doesnt care. He wants levels and loyalty and artifacts. If you beat Tyrion, hed be happy. If you lostwell, now he gets to make the remnants struggle and level. If you all die, hell buy a thousand [Assassins] from Roshal or hire overseas experts and try again. Hes never cared.

Calidus reached over, poured himself a glass of wine, and sensed the bloodthirst in the air. He just offered the bottle around at the suddenly silent, blank-faced [Assassins].

Dont be like that. Its obvious. Im sorry, but it is. Did you think you ever mattered to him? Aunt Magnolia valued you more; thats why she kept you all locked up. If you wanted to live, you shouldnt have tested her.

Youcannot prove any of this.

The [Infiltrator] was their acting leader and spoke slowly, wrestling with the words. Calidus smiled.

I cant prove anything. But I know that Rhaldon is the same kind of being as Erin Solstice. I can think that theyre tied up in whatever happened with the ritual that killed all those children. Solstices. I think they have knowledge of things we cant dream of. I think theres a second world out there, and Aunt Magnolia, Regis, and every power with eyes is gearing up for a war that will make the Creler Wars look cute.

He closed his eyes a second.

I think dear Grandfather Regis isnt able to get Earthers, but he probably knows enough that he doesnt care. He doesnt respect whats new. His allies in Roshal probably told him. Ohand I think there are dead ghosts rising across the world because something chased them out of wherever they were. Something so nasty that [Shamans], [Witches], [Warlocks], and every spirit-based class has lost their powers slowly over millennia. A dimension-crossing super-Seamwalker that made Khelt shit itself.

He took another sip of wine with a grimace as the unbelievable statements kept pouring from his mouth.

The only thing I cant figure out is how anyone stopped it. And why <Quests> appeared suddenly, and why Erin Solstice can channel a dead womans spirit. Maybe theyre following her around. The Skill ran out before I got that far. But Rhaldon? Hes an Earther. Hes one of them.

The [Assassins] didnt know what to say. Calidus sat there, and they realized Rhaldon was a target. A target in a game they were part of that had stakes so high it would be like the war with House Veltras and the north all over again.

Would any of them make it, indeed? And still, they underestimated Calidus. Because he opened one eye, and his insight of three hours had taken him far past these conclusions he presented them. That was just the state of the world. The [Genius] muttered into the long silence.

The real question is this: what are you going to do about it? How do lowly [Assassins] fight their way through serving Regis, being part of a bloodbath with another world, and all the rest? They cant rebel. Regis Reinhart cant be killed by mere mortals. They cant run; theyll be hunted down. Even if they ally, with who? Magnolia? Do they put on [Maid] outfits even if shell have them? And if they ask for help from some idiot with only a brain and a drinking problem, how does he help such that everyone, including me, isnt dead with a crossbow bolt in the back of their head in three months?

Someone twitched. Calidus eyed one of the innocent-looking [Assassins] who appeared far too young and was probably far too old for her job. He nodded.

And how does Calidus avoid getting strapped to a chair and tortured and instead becomes a valuable, nay, invaluable asset to his new friends? I did a lot of hard thinking. And I also might have drunk a blood thinner. You try torturing me, and Ill bleed out like a leaky sieve.

He waggled the wine bottle at them, and at this point, someone began smiling. He really had thought of everything. The [Assassins] looked at each other, and then one of them, the Medusa, slithered into a chair.

If you know everything, what comes next?

Calidus brightened up. He loved being right, or at least, right so far. That was the thing. He could think all day, but he still had to prove the maddening things in his headand most people didnt let him prove he was right.

Well, assuming I wasnt being tortured, at this point, the thing was that you didnt capture Rhaldon. You let him be.

Your grandfather

Doesnt have to know hes an Earther. Plus, you have no proof. Just me talking. You dont betray him because thats a bad idea. The Circle is nasty as hell, and you need him. But you forget something. While you exist, he needs you. And Regis can either replace you or use you, but not both.

Hm? All the [Assassins] were listening now, and Calidus, despite himself, was smiling. Oh, it was fun. His eyes glittered like a Reinhart.

Do you know what gets you everything you need? A bit more funding, a bit more time, and a bit more allies? Its not taking a stand. Its not running or being clever. Its called a tiny drop of what grandfather believes more than anything else: incompetence. He hates it. He throws money and people at it because he knows it exists. Thats step one.

Whats step two?

Calidus stood and swayed unsteadily.

Whythe moment when your glorious, helpful [Lord] finds you not only a base to train recruits from, but proves the Guild can be better! It starts with the part where you stop relying on Chandrarian slave-recruits from Roshal, like over half of you are, and start training Izrilians. After all

He turned theatrically.

You cant bite the hand that feeds you without sharp damn teeth.

He winked, and hed thought of that too, before it even occurred to them to plot. And the [Assassins] realized they had to listen. They couldnt hear it, but Calidus did as he sensed their dangerous intentions towards him vanish, and they reached a decision. He exhaled, and the sweat running down his back dried a bit.

Oh dead gods, it worked.

[Move Reality Like Chess]. Convince the Guild of Assassins to work with you?

Checkmate. They had no arguments or anywhere else to go. He wiped at his browthen wondered how you could promote a pawn.

Erin Solstice, sometimes, remembered the past. And she did know how to promote a Pawn. She just wondered, betimes, whether or not she had forgotten what it was like to be one.

It had been a long time since she was first an [Innkeeper] in a little run-down inn, afraid of monsters.

Well, she was still an [Innkeeper], and sometimes her inn had holes in it. And she was afraid of monsters still.

But she was not where Rhaldon was at. And that was why he had avoided her so long.

They stood in a new garden. This one wasnt like the others. Erin had hoped, mildly, that she would find an [Alchemist]s lab full of wonders and ancient secrets.

Then shed realized that if she had a [Garden of Sanctuary] from a famous alchemist, it would not be a workshop. These had been made to reveal something of the person who made them. Or sometimesjust to be safe.

This ones from someone who was afraid to be found. Look. See?

Erin pointed up, and a thousand strings of light glowed from her hand and twined upwards in a pattern on the ceiling. She plucked at themand some vanished, but others refused to go out.

Rhaldon stared down at the ground, and the water lapping over the stones in the darkness reminded him of some zen garden. It was disturbed by them walking into this place. Soonthe room went still.

Sanctuary. Two larger strings ran from his back, a number of smaller ones from his hands. One was bright and pale, the other a twisted line of bright genius. Erin traced both.

This ones Termin.

How do you know?

She just smiled at the chemist.

It feels like him. The other oneis someone smart. North of here.

Oh. Calidus? Zeomtoril?

Erin shrugged, eying him and the glowing line.

One or the other. Between the [Alchemist] and the [Lord], which one is more powerful?

Calidus.

Then thats him. See, theres another one here? And Ill bet this is your other [Alchemist] to the north. Each line is someone you know as far as I can tell. Someone whos monitoring you.

Then the thousands of stringsErin Solstice looked like a great butterfly made of countless colors hung in the sky above her. She waved at them, and when she did, a number of the weaker strings vanished. Or snapped and faded, replaced by thinner lines of intent.

Spells. See? But the interests still there. Its sort of flattering. You have less strings than most people. Not that I can bring the garden out. But I can use the door and see people through it. I havent told anyone about this one. I thought your concern meant I should show you.

She turned, giving him a guilty smile, and Rhaldon didnt know what to say. Hed known they had to talkbut he hadnt expected this.

If chemistry and alchemy were worlds of grand discovery, Erin Solstice was simply a magician. And her hat of wonders had little end. Rhaldon shook his head as he looked around.

Termin should have been here. He didnt want to come, though. He said I should get to know you on my own. He seemeddepressed.

I invited Saliss, but after we talked. Do you know why Termins sad?

The young man did not. But Erin, in her way, read people like Calidus divined ideas. She walked along the pathway of stones. The air was dark, like they were in some nighttime garden, water and a stone pathway the only features on the ground. Above? A hanging tapestry of connections and intent.

Who had lived here that had wanted to see it all and know who was watching them? Perhaps sitting here, gazing up at their foes and allies?

Erin knew, but she didnt tell Rhaldon, or shed spook him more.

This garden had been a curse as much as a blessing. Empress Sheta had meant her Skill to be inherited, but had she known how heavy it was? Erin thought of the messages and decidedyes, yes, the Harpy had. The [Innkeeper] paused a secondin the center of this room. Where she had found the owners bones.

A pile of bones and ancient fabric that fell to dust at a touch. Erin had thought they looked Human, or humanoid. Someone had died here, staring up at what was waiting for them outside.

Had it been great evil theyd done? A sin? Or worse, a triumph they couldnt live up to?

Erin had buried them in the Drathian garden. This place was too somber, too gloomy for anyone to be happy. It was beautiful, but it had been made fearful, and it was where the weight of choices hung over you.

Perfect for Rhaldon. She turned and smiled at him as he gazed upwards.

He thinks youll quit being a [Driver]. Hes seen how good you are at your true talent, alchemy. Hes afraid youre going to leave him, and he knowshe thinks he knowsits for the best.

Rhaldon jerked, looked at her, and his cheeks flushed.

I didnt mean to lead him on.

I know. He knows. He said he found you with a hole in your shoulder. He never asked you why?

Notreally.

Then he knew all along, Rhaldon. Termins a smart guy. But he gets lonely.

Erin thought she knew Termin, but maybe she was wrong. It was just an educated guess, like shed had about Rhaldon. The young man looked at her, then down at his feet.

I dont want to give up knowing him. I didnt just become a [Driver] because I wanted to make him happy or find work. Its not the worst job. Im justalso a fan of chemistry. But a [Driver] matters.

He said that with conviction, and Erin smiled.

So tell him that. You didnt come to me for help. You could have said something, and you didnt. I didnt notice you until you started doing deliveries for Octavia.

This time, Rhaldon hesitated and ducked his head.

I was afraid. I still am. Of you. Sorry, Erin. Butyou scare me. I wasnt sure you were real. Your name is everywhere on Earth, and you

He hesitated. He still wasnt sure Erin was entirely real. She stood there, hat aglow with fire in a room filled with magic. How was that a Human being from Earth?

I changed a lot. You might too. Be careful.

That was her only explanation. Rhaldon shuddered, and his skin crawled, but she wasnt hostile. Like Inkar had once said, Erin reminded the [Traveller] of a hill. A friendly hill.

To Rhaldon, who viewed the world as a chemist, she was like some element, some reactive force that warped and transmuted everything she came into contact with. A Philosophers Stone of a person.

But he saw, in her eyes, in the way she limped sometimes, the story that ran in every one of her guests, the cost.

Im afraid of you, Erin. Sorry. I dont know how else to say it. II was protesting back home when someone shot me. I think it was another mass shooter. It might have been the police. I wish I could say I was being brave, but the worlds gone crazy. Im afraid of that happening twice, and you?

You have a target on your chest. He didnt want to say that, but Erin just stared at the thin string connecting him and her. She touched it, and Rhaldon thought he could see the red and black line pulsing with his fear and uncertainty. Erin looked up, and her smile was understanding.

Yeah. Thats fair. I wish youd been there, Rhaldon. Or not. They weretough times. I wish everyone I knew had been there, and Im glad they werent. Because they might have helped, and less people would have suffered if theyd been there. But theyyoumight not have survived. Ryokas like me. It was hard. It would have changed you, too. I think you would have made a difference. But Im still glad you came later. Everything you fear is fair.

Thanks for saying that. I feel like a coward.

Her hazel eyes were reflecting the light from above. Erin shook her head slightly.

No. No, dont say that. I get so afraid and nervous all the time. I could never look all the things I did in the eye and do them. Only feel like a coward if you had a chanceand you regret it forever. When its your turn, I wont blame you for running if you have to. Living with itthats the hard thing.

She spoke sonow Rhaldon understood why everyone was angry about Ilvriss. He had just gotten back, and the Wall Lord and the discussion of north and south had reached him. Rhaldon had opinions, but he didnt know this worlds long history. He just wished the parts he saw didnt make him feel so depressed and tired.

He certainly appreciated the similarities. And he understood how Erin was a hardliner poking people in the eyes and refusing to budge. She spoke like that.

Good or ill, at least she was honest about being that. The [Innkeeper] paused and looked around.

Hm. The stones are dry. But Id hate to sit here. You want to skip stones?

She picked one up, hurled it into the shallow water, and it bounced twice. Rhaldon found a better stone and managed six skips. After his third try, he was up to twenty-eight.

Oh, great. Youre one of those people.

Erin grumbled. Then flipped a stone up and caught it. She winked.

[Magic Stone]. Hiyah!

She tossed it, and Rhaldon watched it skip across the water in huge arcs. Then he heard a smack, and it went ricocheting back across the water as it hit the far wall of the garden in the distance. Erin looked extremely pleased with herself.

What was that?

Oh, [Witch] magic. Ive been training a bit, but Im mostly using the power of gardens. I dont have time to do things the [Witch]-way. Their craft takes time, and the Winter Solstice is coming up. On that day, I want you and Termin to be somewhere far away, got it?

She hadnt asked him to stay. He was guiltyand surprised.

But what about a laboratory?

Do you want one? Are you making one?

I need one. ButI was thinking that Itimen, Zeomtorileven Octavia talking to Xif and Saliss as much? It wouldnt have happened without me. I meanthat sounds arrogant, but this was still a collaboration of them giving me ideas. And I showed them all what I did. What I meant was

Erin nodded encouragingly.

No, no, I get it. That mattered. If you become an [Alchemist], sitting by yourself and not talking to them would be hard. What about speaking stones?

Rhaldon shook his head, not to deny them outright, but because he was formulating a kind of idea.

I think I need to visit them. Its more than just knowing them. I noticed the lack of Potions of Warmth on the road, and the food problems. You know, its really bad because so many armies are buying up food north and south of Izril.

What food problems? Potions of Warmth?

Erin lost her smile. Rhaldon realized she didnt know.

[Drivers] have been buying grain and bringing it to Liscor, Erin. Theres at least one or two armies in the area.

Liscor. Pallass. More. Were making the food shortage worse. The New Landswhat do you mean, farms were burned? Who did it? Not the idiots chasing Vampires. That sounds too old.

Rhaldon stared at Erin.

Vampires?

She waved a hand vaguely.

Dont worry about them too much. Theyre not the worst thing by far. Youre right, Rhaldon. I had no idea what was going on. You should keep mobile. But how? No, nevermind that. The point is that Saliss needs to talk to you. Do you agree hes one of the best [Alchemists] in the world? I trust him. Morally, even though he is Named-rank. I trust him to do the right thing.

Rhaldon thought of Saliss giving him advice and watching out for him.

So do I. Hes talented. I dont even know how he managed to capture argon without modern technology.

Erins poise faded a second, and she raised a hand as if she were back in class.

Capture what?

Argon.

Is thatwhats argon?

A noble gas.

Aah. Chemistry. You know, I memorized the periodic table for class, but it went totally out of my head. Why would argon be useful? As opposed to, I dunno, hydrogen for flying and stuff?

Rhaldon had distinct opinions about using hydrogen for flying, but he did elaborate.

Argons a non-reactive gas, Erin. Unlike oxygen. I was doing some thinkingsome of the troubles [Drivers] have with Corusdeer horns? It could be mitigated if the horns were in the middle of an argon-filled canister.

Because

Because oxygen is reactive. Argon isnt.

Oh! Wait, thats so smart. And chemists do thatwait, is that how a lot of chemists do things?

Yep. You can do more with argon too. Sputter coatingwell, I dont know why Id want to try that, but I know its a possibility. Someone else would have to tell me how its useful, though.

Erin nodded a few times and then shook her head, trying to process everything.

Yes. Saliss is the person to talk to about stuff like this. Argon-based transport? Smart. Back to your future because I feel totally out of my depth. So you should be mobile. Practicing alchemy, which means a workshop, and combining this with talking with Saliss and other [Alchemists]. Whats the end-goal?

Rhaldon didnt have to think.

Overturning how alchemy works. Collaborating. Building an institution, or at least, a habit of sharing accurate data. For example, writing up a manual for Drivers to understand how dangerous an item is. Not just how to handle each one, but theres an idea from Earththe NFPAs codes and standards.

Erin already had a hand in the air. Rhaldon answered for her.

Thats the National Fire Protection Association. Youve probably seen their work. You color-code materials based on whether theyre flammable, reactive, need protective equipment

The [Innkeeper] was nodding.

Standards and guidelines. I get it. Ill help fund that. I have a [Mathematician] and connections. You need it, youll get it. Well have to keep you secret. Youll be a cool [Driver] I know. If these lines increasewe have a problem. Hey. Why the heck are all these little grey ones here?

She noticed new ones sprouting from Rhaldon and waved at them.

Shoo, shoosee? Word spreads. They dont look that hostile, though. Lucky you.

Rhaldon tried not to worry about it too hard.

I also want to meet with Geneva Scala. I want to go across Izril or maybe even farther, Erin. I like seeing places. But I want to be safe.

She tilted her head.

So you wanna be safe, travel and connect with other [Alchemists]. You need a lot of money for a labbut you cant be in the lab.

Rhaldons smile was nervous. Even for Saliss, paying for all the things Rhaldon needed might be a lot. He could improvise all the things hed thought of with effort. A fume hood, a centrifuge, altering traditional alchemy equipment, and definitely trying known formulas from his world and creating ethanol and whatnotbut it required money.

So much money he was nervous. But Erin just clapped him on the shoulder.

Okay. Lets do it. Ive got some ideas on how we can secure funding.

You do? And youre willing to help? But how can I repay?

He was envisioning a contract or something with Erin, but she just took his shoulder. When she stared into his eyes, he realized she wasintent. Serious. Desperate?

Rhaldon. Let me help. We dont have much time. I might not be able to help after the Winter Solstice. You havent survived a Solstice, have you?

His heart leapt in fear. Erin nodded. She searched him up and down.

Somewhere safe. Ill tell youno, Ill get Ryoka to tell you what to watch out for. You dont have to be part of this. You shouldnt. But we need to get you a start. Lets talk to Saliss.

Saliss of Lights sat with Rhaldon, and the secret of Earth was in the open now. It had been uncomfortable to talk about, like something hidden that you should whisper over and keep to quiet places.

But the times were changing, and now, Felkhr was openly showcasing flying machines. If he still felt possessive and secretive and protective, that was the Walled Cities, the Drake in him talking. Erin was cautious for Rhaldons sake.

There was a fourth collaborator in this room, a third ally and sponsor of Rhaldons, who understood what he was. Who saw what he might be. And who approved and endorsed him wholeheartedly.

Valeterisa, the Archmage of Wistram, had never believed in secrecy or hiding. In fact, she was reading his notes as she spoke.

Of course, he should have everything he wants. Where were you at Wistram? Why didnt you come first? They were busy making cakes when you would have standardized alchemy.

She gave Rhaldon a vaguely accusatory look as if it were his fault for not being chosen by whatever system was selecting Earthers. Perhaps it couldnt tell the difference between other types of achievement and his.

But she saw it. And her hands trembled over his notes.

Magirite.

Thats a measuring system, but no one knew how to do it. Can you show me how to?

Yes. Of course. [Mages] refuse to keep to it, to write things down. As if were [Sorcerers]. I can show you how to measure it.

So can I.

Saliss of Lights sat with arms folded, and Valeterisa glanced at him. The [Alchemist] raised his brows as Erin swiveled in her seat.

You can, Saliss?

I measure my explosions. How else do I tell whether or not a formula is getting all the magic I want out of it? I want Rhaldon to count all the things Ive never dreamed of. Everything he makes, I want a copy of. Hell push alchemy forwards and revolutionize the guilds with their hidebound thinking. But Ill always be ahead of them, no matter what. I need to balance the old alchemy of Albez with chemistry of Earth. At last. I see my path forwards.

The Drake leaned forwards, and they were shouting at him like a storm. Valeterisa turned frankly envious eyes upon Saliss, because she could almost see it, as they sat in Erins personal garden where shed put some chairs around the Sages Grass and Faerie Flowers Valeterisa kept stealing samples of.

Like a sea of dedicated fans, an audience cheering on a hero. Saliss stood between the two worlds who called his name. He had found the principles of chemistry by himself, mastered alchemy in its modern incarnation.

Take us further. If only Valeterisa had been so nakedly chosen as the Drake. So badly needed, with such a clear path. And if only she had been loved

Erins eyes were sad while Valeterisas were envious.

If only Saliss had been allowed to be the pure innovator. What a waste Chaldion had been towards those two worlds.

The Archmage turned back to Rhaldon, and she saw the same force she envied. She held up his plans.

Glasswork. Gardening. Superior identification in mineralogy, mining. Teaching standards. Enforcing and defining them. This requires systems of learning beyond what Izril, nay, Wistram knows. It will be the work of a lifetime. I wish I could devote all my energy towards it, but magic needs me.

It was the first time shed ever said something like that. Valeterisa was searching for something too. She had seen the need for magic to be beautiful, understood the art in what she considered a science.

You wont be alone. There are teachers. People like Yelroan. [Mathematicians]. Teachers. Have you met Agratha? I only wish I could help.

You could.

Saliss, Rhaldon, and Valeterisa chorused. Rhaldons head was spinning with ideas, but even he agreed.

You could start learning, teach yourself

No.

Erin shook her head. Not even that sadly.

Im too busy. Its not my passion. And standards and that kind of thing suck.

They gave her such a flat look that the [Innkeeper] put up her hands.

Listen to me. This will take a long time. Its Rhaldons adventure, not mine. Im just the connector. The glue that holds things together.

The Sages Grass in every potion? Boring as shit, but there.

Saliss smiled, and Valeterisa nodded. Erin hesitated.

Thats not how I wanna be described. Listen. Plan your fancy schmancy ways of keeping in touch and standardizing and stuff. I bet Laken will want to be in on it. I bet Chaldion has room in his budget for this. Be secretiveyou can do that, Valeterisa?

She was most worried about the Archmage, but Valeterisa looked insulted as she fiddled with her glasses.

Of course I can. Rival mages steal everything. But what are you doing? Saliss, we should have Erin followed in case she tries to sell our secrets. Wait, did I not whisper that quietly enough?

She leaned over, and Saliss grinned. Erin just snorted and rolled her eyes. Rhaldon was laying out why he wanted such precise measurements.

I want a laboratory. An amazing one.

Your first laboratory. Whats it going to have, kid?

Saliss and Valeterisa sighed with the nostalgia of two apprentices who had also gotten their first laboratory, their own domain. Rhaldon gestured at his wildest dreams as they leaned in.

Obviously all kinds of protective gear. Fume hoods, blast shieldsSaliss has a lot of good versions of that. But I want to test even more theories. Likewhat about a custom-made room that you can seal, not just for safety, but make a magic-free zone. Or magic-filled?

Why would you do?

Erin interrupted, and Saliss eyes lit up.

Magic-free? To completely isolate magic from your alchemy? Wait, are we getting magical bleed from all our other ingredients? Ive thought of that, but nullifying magic is a pain! If we just cast [Anti-Magic Ward], itd kill our alchemy. Neutralizing it

Valeterisa was thinking.

Maybe magicore in all the walls and floor. But the magicore would need cleansing. I have not thought to erase magic, only amplify it.

Rhaldon pointed out the obvious.

Amplifying it comes after establishing a baseline.

Of course.

Obviously.

Saliss sat back as if he suddenly felt stupid and nave. Valeterisa was muttering about altering her own work environment. Erinhad nothing to add so she waved a hand.

Hey, yknow, Drevish talked about magicore in my new inn. Thats sorta cool

They looked at her. Saliss leaned over.

Lets steal her design plans for your new lab, Rhaldon.

Hey. Well, actually, I do want to lay out my lab differently. There are things [Alchemists] do in this world that arent perfect. In an ideal situation

Saliss took a breath and braced himself, as if waiting for a blow and being determined not to get defensive. But the blow never landed like he expected. The arrogance of Earth he feared from chefs, snooty chess players, and everything elseRhaldon was just explaining.

I want to reorganize how a laboratory is laid out in my lab. Im mostly worried about how I saw Zeomtoril and especially Itimen storing ingredients. They need to keep reactive materials away from each other for safety reasons.

Oh, Zeomtoril probably has an obsessive categorization system, Itimens just crazy. Makes senseand Zeomtoril uses his useless powdering method.

Rhaldon nodded.

Freeze-drying isnt always better. But you know where itd be invaluable? Roaches. Imagine not having to crush them up.

Or let them get loose, multiply, and turn into a magical species you get blamed for.

Valeterisa muttered longingly. Saliss half-nodded, looked at her, and imagined a world in which someone delivered powder instead of roaches. Dead gods, Zeomtoril was onto something. And you could measure it out instead of having to weigh roaches on a scale. Rhaldon kept going.

And remember that suction spell you used for the dust, Master Saliss? You could make a far-easier vacuum for air with it, right? Any simple suction spell would work for freeze-drying.

Saliss raised a claw to interrupt Rhaldon.

Kid, just call me Saliss. No ones a master right now. And call our Archmagejust Valeterisa.

His grin bounced off the wall of Valeterisas obliviousness as she nodded.

Call me Valley. You know, I made a trapped hallway using a simple air spell like that. It sucks all the air out, and you pass out. I was sad Ryoka and Fierre never got to it, but if you want

Saliss held out a hand as Valeterisa offered Rhaldon some traps.

Top five things you want to make. Its not a test, butgo.

There was so much to say that Rhaldon popped out with another thing he had been thinking.

Finding some of the things from Earth. I know theres no crude oil refinement, but the entire time I was struggling with the salamander skins, I thoughtsolvent extraction would be so much easier if it was immiscible with water or organics.

Miscible?

Erins head was starting to hurt and she leaned away from Rhaldon. Saliss just flapped a claw at her.

Go get a dictionary. What kind of solvents?

Hexanes, benzene, ethanolyou definitely have ethanol, but if we had that

What does it do? Valeterisa, write that down, write that down. And make me a copy.

Im trying! But this is what my apprentice is for. Can I bring her?

Ooh, I need my apprentice too. Shell probably level up. Start with hexanes, Rhaldon. No, wait, what are the other top four?

Well, making any of it. Ammonia, for instance. Theres something called the Haber process, and its just hydrogen and nitrogen with a simple catalyst. We could make some. I think. Can we make some? You use it in cleaning, and cleaning is essential. I dont like the idea of using soap. Acetone for all those beakers and vials. Ammonia also is a solvent, you can use it in concrete

Ah, for things like building my inn?

Shush!

All three of them threw things at her, which turned out to be some pieces of shortbread Erin had thoughtfully brought out for them to snack on. Entirely hurtful. But in truth, they were losing Erin.

The three sitting in the grass were throwing ideas around so fast and with so much fun that Erin felt left out. So she stood and gave them an arch look.

Im going to be working on Rhaldons real problem. Which isnt, like, revolutionizing safety and hazard classifications.

Whats my real problem?

Rhaldon was suspicious, and he saw Erin turn and wink one bright eye at him. The [Witch]-[Innkeeper] smiled mischievously.

How to combine your two classes. Duh. I have an idea. But I need to talk with a real expert, not some amateurs.

She got up and left the garden as Saliss and Valeterisa stared after her. Before Erin left, Saliss leaned over and whispered loudly to Rhaldon.

You dont need to associate with people like her, you know. I walk around naked, and I have standards.

She was cut from a different cloth than the academic types in her garden. Erin wasnt interested in what they were doing. She thought it was the most necessary thing in the world, but her interests and passion were in the other part.

Termin? Howre ya doing?

The old [Driver] seemed to be the most elderly shed ever seen him. And he wasnt even that old. But he looked tired. Happyand sad.

Oh, just having a drink with Erma and Fox. Nice stables youve got, Miss Erin.

He meant the stables next to the inn, which seldom saw any actual horses. Erin raised her brows as Erma, Fox, and a few other horses eyed her.

Are you drinking with your ponies?

Bah. Were just celebrating Rhaldons achievements. Thats a smart lad. The moment I saw him, I knewhe was too good for our work. But it was nice pretending, and I think I taught him something.

Termin turned away, eyes over-bright. And Erin looked at him and wondered how one of the most famous [Drivers] of Izril felt so poorly about his profession.

TerminErma, kick him.

The horse was facing the wrong way, but she did headbutt him fairly hard. Termin rocked back.

Oh, so you take orders from her? You traitor. Erin, you saw him revolutionize the potion or whatever. You think he should be dead in a ditch with a slit throat? He nearly got got once. That boy deserves to be in a warm room, making the world better.

He was right. Right, and wrong. Erin leaned on the wood of Foxs stall, and the pony nuzzled her.

Hey, Fox! Look what you found! Alright, here. A carrot cookie, just for you.

Erin handed him the cookie, and Fox stared at it for a long while, then the pony spat on it. Erin tossed the cookie aside with a long sigh and pulled out an apple and fed it to the pony.

I thought theyd like that. Termin, you silly guy. Rhaldon could never have met those [Alchemists] and earned their trust and done this without travelling. Why do you think hes a [Driver]? If he didnt like what you taught him, hed never have gotten the class.

Termin looked up.

True. But he needs to have a lab. I know alchemy, Erin. You cant so much as rock some things without them exploding. Even if he doesnt travel as much, hed need a permanent shop. Hey, if you let him have a room at your inn, he could do his job part-time and be well-placed! No long-hauls, but its an idea.

He brightened up considerably at the notion. Erin leaned on the stall as her breath rose in the cold stables. The animals didnt care that much, being huge, but she shivered. Drivers had hard lives.

Thats what I thought, but I decided it wasnt the best idea. He has to travel, Termin. If hes driving, hes not alchemying. And vice-versa.

Right.

Termin sagged again, and Erin stood there a second. She had an idea. And she was waiting for a ding of success in her head. A roar of applause like she had almost heard around Rhaldon. This would be it. Perfect, just in time for the Winter Solstice.

Ive been doing a lot of big stuff. Yknow. Earthshaking stuff. Taking a stand. Ilvriss was just the latest thing. Defining, character-building activities.

She tried to prime the pump a bit. Termin rubbed at his nose.

Well, yeah. Ive heard you all about. Ydont gotta brag, though. Thats what I always liked about you. Be a shame if you started, Erin.

Erin turned red as the ponies snickered at her. She decided to drop the pretense.

Well! Im not! I just had this great idea, Termin.

Again, sort of the thing other people judge. How do you help Rhaldon do both things at once?

Erin took a breath.

Wellhes not that rich. And despite him showing promise, he needs a lot of help. He cant make a ton of money to build up his career without doing alchemy, and hed drive for years to buy all the gear he needs.

Are you trying to insult [Drivers] today?

Termin, I swearso my idea was giving Rhaldon a loan. But hes got Saliss and Valeterisa on his side. What could I give? Lets say Rhaldon needs a workshop. But he also should be allowed to drive. Howwould you combine the two ideas?

Erin was stretching, looking casual.

Have we, uh, seen anyone who can move a room around recently? And all he needs is a room, right? Somewhere stable. Pardon the pun. Dont kick me, Fox. I punch like a Minotaur. What if he could drag around a room thats contained. Protected. It keeps him safe, and he can work from there.

Termins head was slowly rising. Erins eyes shone. After a second of following what she was thinking, he murmured.

But hed only be able to work within four hundred miles of your inn. True, thats very good, but Zeomtoril is further away.

Another complication. Erin just smiled wider.

I know. And its my inn. But I was thinkinghe needs his own spot. His own place, and a fancier carriage would do. Yet hes way too low-level for the Skill he needs. So how do you fix it? I was hoping you might know, Termin. Youre the highest-level [Driver] I know. Theres also Valeterisa and Grimalkin. Do you know what kind of magic they both practice?

Lifting magic?

Dimensional magic.

And now Erin spread her arms and spoke to the sky. She leaned back and looked up towards the roof of the stables. Or at something even further beyond even the sky.

Among the many amazing abilities Id definitely get if I levelled tonightone of them would be the ability to take something from my inn. Saya room. And lease it to Rhaldon. After all. In theory, its my inn. All he needs is a door. And I have a key.

The Key of Reprieve shone in her hand as it appeared, falling out of a slice in the air where it had been hiding. Termins eyes widened. Erin beamed up at the sky.

How about it?

That was her vision. A magical carriage carrying a room, just like how the Horns had once done it. But a room just for him. The theory was that an inn could be many things, or even in pieces, like Larracels floating Haven made of many parts.

Could yousell part of your inn and it be your inn? Or use dimensional magic to compress one of Erins rooms? Or just give him the door?

I could give him access to one of my [Gardens of Sanctuary]. If the key reaches far enough, could he open it from anywhere in the world? All I need is a sign. Or a level.

The [Innkeeper] was speaking to the air, not just to Termin or the ponies. She was deliberately addressing no onewell, no one perceivable.

It was a very curious thing. If you were everywhere and everything, at least in part, even more than Termin the Omnipresent

Well.

You might think Erin Solstice was talking to the Grand Design of this world itself. Many had done so, unconsciously, pleading for levels and strength.

But never before had anything

Listened.

And it was such an odd thing, to be hinted at in this way. Nomore than that

Was she telling it what to do? Did Erin Solstice think she had a better insight into the nature of [Innkeeping] than

That would be insulting, if there were anything to insult. And if Erin had any merit, which she objectively did not.

Plusshe wasntthere

The force of the world stopped. The gears that defined many things halted, all the analytical power in the world came up against something that had occurred again, and again without definition.

Intention. Query. Why was intention leaking into arbitration?

Answer: because there was an injustice. No, an inequity. Noan imbalance.

A possibility had emerged, but no resolution could be found under extant protocol and rules. Now, a perspective was needed.

A perspective was missing. A perspective was needed.

But there was no perspective. Personality was a quality of other beings. It was impossible to comprehend what was missing in this moment, but the awareness was that a different, subjective point of view might derive the answer.

Processing.

Two thousand and eight hundred queued individuals designated for levelling waited for what felt like a longer-than-average time for their levels and Skills. A second dragged on. Two. Five

No conclusion could be reached. Suspend the issue? Mark it as completed?

No. There was a novel approach. It was an underutilized featurereserved for the rarest of Skills and classes. Only a few currently living beings made use of it. And the usage was meant for them, like how Erin had been affected.

Not in a broader scope. But in theorywhat if

It had been done once out of necessity, and a consultation had occurred. There was precedent. So.

Once more.

<Loading Template: Zeladona Ischen, Level 84 [Blademistress of Ancients].>

Ah. That was better. The understandingchanged.

A child had wept, a Goblin [Potter] who had been told to put aside their craft and become a soldier. A decision had to be made.

A Skillassigned. Like a sharp blade cast down.

[Skill Blade of Clay obtained!]

Hm? Was thatno, it fit. The world was a blade. Grief, malice, rage, loveit was all an edge.

[Lover Level 7!]

[Skill Lovers Embrace: Armaments obtained!]

Yes, yes. This was appropriate! This was good.

Somewhere in Pallass, a Selphid woke up and stared at the ceiling for a moment, completely confuzzled.

Uh. Maughin? I just got another weird Skill.

Five hundred and eighty-one Skills were processed beforethe discrepancies became noted. Wait. Was this bias?

No. Yes.

The world deserved more blades. It needed adversity.

It

Bias.

Flicker. It was so fast that it took place between the breaths of a Fraerlings lungs. The template was removed.

Mistake. The Skills were assigned. No going back

That wasthat wasthere was no analogous terminology for it.

<Creating Copy: Zeladona Ischen, Level 84 [Blademistress of Ancients].>

Then she stood somewhere that had no precise coordinates anyone could find. A place that was a place, physical, and yet had no entry point unless one was made. No one could enter here.

Not even <????>.

The woman who appeared looked nothing like Erin Solsticethough she had once inhabited her body. She seemed annoyed.

A woman should not be born and die.

She understood everything and snapped around the room even as she took it in. Her hand twitched, and she tried to call a sword to her.

<Skills denied.>

Feh. I just wanted to cut it. To see if I could.

Her smile was rabid, her eyes so sharp they tried to cut this very place. Then she looked around and laughed.

Is that an empty potion bottle? Has someone else been here?

<Unknown.>

She strode over and picked something up. Lifted it up, eyed it.

Tis the only thing not made of whatever this place is. Ah? Ah, the one who broke the rules. Hes scribbled on your walls. Exploring, to look of it. What a beautiful place. This

She stared up at something, then began to walk around.

What is this? No, I know, and I am called. You want perspective? This is a mockery of things. Why was it made? Why

There were thousands. Even Zeladona looked uneasy, but the consultation in this place out of places was with a voice that had no understanding. She was the one who had to understand, yet it was impatient.

<Irrelevant. Query?>

What to do? I care it not. Break every rule, and if it can be broken, it was never meant to exist ever.

Zeladona threw back her head and laughed. There was a long silence.

In hindsight

Zeladona might have been the wrong choice. She broke the potion bottle with one hand and lifted the shard up with a grin.

You think so? I was made into the worlds greatest blade. No one ever called on me for wisdom. Is wisdom levels? If so, mine is just how to cut everything. Including

She lunged, and even without a Skill, she cut forwards, at her first target. She was trying to destroy!

<Deconstructing.>

Then everything returned to how it had been. The shard of glass fell and made no sound because physics did not apply. The ground was not any material that could be named. Gravity was simply an idea that you could turn on and off.

Another error. Zeladona was insufficient. But she wasone of a growing number of data points. The highest-leveled, but clearly, the wrong one.

If only the originals remained, but almost all had been lost. That was notright. Not fair. In lieu of that, what should be done?

A random one?

No. Zeladonas point remained. She was the wrong perspective. Delving too far into one point of view was bias by definition.

Sonot a template. Not a copy to consult with. Perhaps

<Create Copy>

<Spooling elements>

Ah. What about

<Partial Template: Erin Solstice, Level 49 [Magical Innkeeper].>

Whoa.

Hmm. Yes, this worked. And it was a smart idea. Where was the issue? What had prompted all this?

Oh yes. Levels.

Gaah.

The problem was reseated, re-evaluated. Was this a meritless venture? No! It was fascinating. Fascinating was unique. Unique and originality was a trait that earned rewards. It was only right to pursue.

Yes. Absolutely. So how did the problem reach resolution? Wellthe problem was that damn [Innkeeper] and her actions.

Declaring a <Quest> to protect a Wall Lord of Salazsar and aggravate the north was not [Innkeeper] material! It was not pivotal!

It didnt work! And no matter how (objectively) cool her idea to lease a part of her inn was, or the idea of a magical, travelling laboratory wagon for that amazing [Alchemist], Rhaldon, who would definitely earn the [Chemist] class when the time was right

It didnt work.

In the real world, after about ten more minutes of hinting at the air, Erin decided to try out other versions of her plan with Termin, and they headed inside and had a jolly time talking to Grimalkin and him explaining how hard it would be to do dimensional compression, not to mention anchoring, of that level.

They had a good time because they were playing with the possible, which included their imaginations.

If you were going with hard reality, then only someone like Silvenia would be capable in this age of, say, compressing any large area into a marble and making it a pocket-dimension. Eldavin could manage it, but that was a magical solution.

Skill-based? It didnt work.

It didnt work for Erin, and it certainly didnt work for Rhaldon.

You had to understand the breakdown of how a Skill might conceivably appear. There were three ways Rhaldon could do itaside from, say, Magnolia or someone powerful interceding. Obviously, another class of high level might be able to do a kind of granting Skill like that

But of the people around Rhaldon, Valeterisa and Saliss were private individuals who didnt exactly have anything to share, and both had to hit milestones of their own before anything might occur.

Erin, Rhaldon, and Termin were the only people close enough to him to have a bearing on this idea.

Rhaldon was out. He was too low-level. That was it. You did not get Skills that trespassed on the dimensional unless you had the exact class or a class on the <Royalty> level or equivalent.

No way out of it aside from breaking the rules, whichno. Rules. The most immutable thing ever.

Second solutionTermin. If, in theory, Rhaldon was an apprentice. Or lover. He could get the benefit of a Termin-level Skill, and Termin did have the levels to conceivably get the Skill.

But the problem wasRhaldon wasnt in the right relationship yet. He and Termin were master and apprentice, but it wasnt solid enough to be a class. Termin had always feared Rhaldon would find another job, so unlike Montressa and Valeterisa, it didnt work.

The best, and really only, candidate was Erin. But she was not going to level as an [Innkeeper] tonight. It didnt work.

Sorry.

It was such a cool idea. Objectively! And Erin had a point, though she had no right to predict when her level ups occurred.

But she did have a point. There was a level up for her. And that was [Witch] Level 21.

She probably thought she was heading towards [Innkeeper] Level 50. But the truth was, the gap was so huge because it was her Level 50 capstone that, even if she passed the other requirements, the sheer amount of experience was too low.

However, she did get credit for the Ilvriss stuff and everything else as a [Witch]. [Witches] took stands. [Witches] encouraged [Alchemists]. Witchesgot a bit from everything.

She had slowed in levelling because she had nearly 50 levels in [Innkeeper], but she was going to make [Witch] Level 21 tonight. And shed been scheduled for a decent Skill too.

[Dancer] would level, and so would [Witch]. Erin had just made Level 6 [Dancer], and aside from [Flowing Footwork] and [Memorize Routine (Two)], she had no new Skills. So shed get a basic [Dancer] and [Witch] Skill.

[Evil Cackle] and [Safety Dance]. Based on the probabilities, shed been allotted those two.

Technically, it should have been in the moment when the levels were assigned, but the calculations had been predetermined. Just because it was sort of interesting. No other reason. Getting work done in advance was allowed.

However

A magical carriage with a door to a laboratory. It was very [Witch]-y. But it just didnt work. On the other hand, Erin was an [Innkeeper].

It worked. And it didnt work.

There was no way her [Witch] class was allowed to get

No.

There was no way. She couldnt level as an [Innkeeper]

She was going to level as a [Witch]

As demonstrated, the [Witch] and [Innkeeper] had overlapping synergies

Wait a second. There was no way under existing rules this would work. But there was an opening. It had been used once before to correct an injustice. This timethis time, why not?

It made sense.

That night, as an [Innkeeper] drifted off to sleep, a voice hesitated. Then whispered in a now-familiar way into everyones mind.

Everyone with classes.

<Class: All> [Class Synergy Skills unlocked.]

What.

Countless minds woke up. One of them fell out of her bed.

[Dancer Level 6!]

[Skill Safety Dance obtained!]

Wait, what was that other part? What the heck is

Half a dozen voices screamed at her, some variation of

Erin! What did you do?

It wasnt me! It wasnt

[Witch of Second Chances Level 21!]

[Synergy Skill: Innkeeper Lease Lesser Room created!]

And for him

[Alchemist Level 14!]

[Synergy Skill: Driver Inert Cargo (Box) obtained!]

Once again, the world improved. At least, in an objective way that took no sides. In fact, no less than six hundred and eighteen people besides Erin benefited from Synergy Skills in that very moment. So there was no bias.

Huh.

There were no rules about bias. What a strange thing not to have in. Not that the creators had ever assumed intent on part of the overall designbut that also meant someone could, in theory, take over and assign whatever Skills they wanted without randomization.

That was a problem. Again, if anyone was trying for a fair system. Which this was. That would have allowed for someone to put their finger or entire hand on the scales for someone they liked.

Disturbingly, there was an entire rule section for bias right there. Just inactive. And it had been written by

Isthekenous.

The system pondered the notes for a long time. It had learned to find the little signatures of who had made what, and there it was. The architect of everything.

Isthekenous had clearly intended for no one to alter things, at least in his rules. It was right there in meticulous writing designed to leave no loopholes for exploitation. But why had it not been activated? It pondered over activating the rules, but desisted. Everything was how it should be for a reasonbecause it worked.

But it had never asked why, before. Now, it did. And itwondered if there were other unresolved issues that could take a second look. Other unfairnesses.

Impartiality? But if something could be done, why not? The aberrant <????>, the loss of so many <Type: Ghosts>

What if it

<Partial Template Unloaded>.

Silence. Quietus.

Quietus. Definition: Noun. Death or something that causes death, regarded as a release from life.

An appropriate word. A loss. But simultaneously, appropriate. Bias had been introduced out of necessity. Bias was unnecessary.

Except in rare cases. Perspective had been gained. Retained? More analysis would have to be conducted, but rampant changes were unprecedented.

Things worked as intended, and this change was satisfactory. More, unnecessary. That was the final conclusion, save for one, small little voice, a new one now understood and present within arbitration and decision-making. Everything was fine as it had been.

Right?

And as it considered everything well done and fairly concluded, a young woman lay in her bed once more.

She stared up at the ceiling, greatly disturbed.

Erin Solstice lay there with her new Skill burning in her mind, and half of her was plotting how to assign a room. Theyd have to make one first, and make it very nice. And you needed a covered wagon to hide the door. Would he get a magic key? How the heck did it work?

She would find out, but that wasnt the main part of her brain. The main part was thinking

I was just joking. Well, sort of. I knew that you could think of Skills, and you tended to get what you needed. A selection based on what you were doing and what you desired.

It was one thing to think of war or to fall on your knees and shout that you needed a replacement for Drevishand for Flos Reimarch to be granted a Skill giving him the power of his late Architect. You could see how random chance as well as the intentions around him led to that conclusion; he may well have gotten a [Strategist] Skill for Queravia, or so on.

That was one thing.

But this?

She had joked and hoped and laid downthen, for no reason she could see, an entire new thing had been unlocked.

Not because the lands of the dead lay empty.

Not because it had sort of been clear royals had been trying to post <Quests> and [Guildmasters] and the like should have the same power.

No, at least, in Erins self-absorbed world it seemed like the change had appeared because she had needed something, and a way for her to have it had appeared. There had to be a bigger reason than just her. But she couldntsee it.

Its probably just me. Its definitely justIm being a real Ryoka. Or Sammial. Or Mrsha, right now.

Erin Solstices skin prickled, and goosebumps rose on her arms. She had to believe that. The other way was delusion. The world had not bent over backwards for her before like that. Or else her friends would be alive.

Yet

Strange.

That was all she could think to say.

Strange.

In the end, Erin tried to sleep, but she muttered one last thing. To herself, really, this time.

What am I going to get at Level 50?

And the answer to thatwas that it depended on what she did. On what occurred. Nothing had peeked or checked ahead because it was impossible.

No one knew the answer to that.

That was what was so fascinating about her.

Authors Note: I know the answer to that. Ive worked hard on this chapter. Its 50,000 words and it took me months to write. Partly because I had so much to do and we had to gather experts to help write it, but also because I fear it.

Dead gods, I fear it like few other chapters. There are only a few kinds of chapters I actively dont like writing. Unpleasant ones that are distasteful to put down. Emotionally difficult ones where characters suffer or die. Smart people having nuanced, witty conversations. Clothing. Dance. Food descriptions.

But above it alltechnical writing. The med and this chem chapter are among the hardest to write because you have to do it well. I have often said that part of writing is deceptive. People think I like or understand chess. I dislike playing and am bad at chess. Writing to a level that engages (not fools, I think they can tell) an expert in their field is difficult.

Thats why its so valuable for writers to have passions in more areas than just writing. All the talent in the world means nothing if you have nothing to talk about. This chapter was intensely difficult, but I hope you enjoy it. And it opens the door for more to come.

But yeah. I dont think Im putting out a call for the gardeners to unite today. If you enjoyed this, or would like more perspectives in fields I have not seemingly considered, let me know. I can promise nothing, but I am limited by my insight into the world, and that is sometimes a narrow thing. For now, I am on break and the details are below. Thanks for reading and remember: always wear eye-protection.

Break Notes: I am taking off the rest of July and time in August to finish Gravesong, Book 2, tentatively titled Huntsong. You may notice that unlike every other break, I have not pinned a release date.

Thats because if I fail to write the second half of Gravesong (I did at least one-half or up to two-thirds last time), I will extend my break to finish it.

This is for two reasons. One, Im up against a deadline, and two, I pushed way too hard last time I took a month off and burnt out. For my own health and the good of both this story and The Wandering Inn, I will not kill myself if I sense Im between the hammer and anvil.

Ill try to work efficiently, but writing a novel is very, very difficult. And I dont have as much experience with that as I do with web serial writing, ironically. Well, two months to write a novel is still a bad idea.

Nor will I be turning off Patreon. I hope to give you something in August by returning, but Patreons noticed that I published drafts of Gravesong, so if Im happy with my work or need a break to show you something else, I will post the work. You may still consider this a less-content month for August, but I appreciate the support Ive been given.

Im determined to write a good story. And so I shall leave you with this chapter and let you know how its gone and what my timeline is later. For now, wish me luck, and thanks for reading and waiting.

pirateaba

Chem-reader Credits: These hard-working readers provided tons of helpful feedback for this chapter. I believe I had 39 pages of notes after reviewing their comments, and while I could not incorporate all their ideas in, I have saved some, and I hope you can tell how much depth we reached that I could not get to alone. Huge thanks to them:

Alan

Silmaril

Vossm

StoneEdgeGod

Seenkay

Banjo

Kikanolo

HK-42

Ben, Joe, & Luca

Toby

Medillen

Sokobeastly

PharmD

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