Chapter 1

The life of an alchemist was not a glamorous one. Despite alchemy having the most practical applications, it had always been considered a lesser school of magic. Yet there was never a shortage of prospective alchemy students as the drive to learn alchemy came from a desire to create. While masters of fire or air could look forward to promising careers as soldiers or city defenders, alchemists could do little more than become craftsmen, be hired on permanently as a physician to a noble, or be chosen to represent all alchemists as a Council Master.

Though a prestigious rank, Council Alchemists had always been considered the lowest of the Council Masters by their peers. Additionally, taking on the rank inhibited their ability to continue working for the common folk, making the rank of Council Alchemist more of a chore than an honor. Though the position did provide some new types of work, it was generally simple, usually boring, and meant to do little more than make them feel as though their input was valued. And so it was that Dalgand Wolfram, Council Alchemist of Thurengein, was delegated the tedious task of overseeing the archeological dig at Murdin Ruins.

Dalgand was a man of average height and build. His light brown hair was kept in a low ponytail that ended in the middle of his back. His face, while handsome, was mostly unremarkable with only a bit of hair on his chin. Oval shaped glasses framed his green eyes, which seemed to hold far more intelligence than his youthful looks should have allowed. He wore the purple and blue robes of an alchemical master, and carried with him the lantern staff that was the symbol of a practiced Firebrand. Dalgand had been Council Alchemist for a little over two years, and had more enthusiasm about his work than any Council Alchemists had in history.

It was not that he was given more responsibilities than his predecessors, nor that the ruins were particularly impressive. In fact, he was very much aware they the had yet again been sent on a seemingly meaningless task intended to keep him from bothering the other Council Masters for a while. However, he took pride in his rank and his work, and he strove to find greatness in it. The Council Masters might think the ruins unimportant, but all major magical discoveries had come from the ruins of Thurengein. Why should he not find something so great in this one? So fueled by determination and his own insatiable curiosity, he kept his team of archeologist magieri busy and annoyed.

“There is nothing here! Why must the Council always do this to us?” shouted Stephen. He was a senior archeologist and had seen his fair share of dead-end digs.

“Every few months it's the same thing,” he continued. “They send us to a ruin, we find nothing, and they send us to a new one! The scholars already came through here and found nothing. Why send us magieri?”

“Perhaps they believe you will do a better job,” said Dalgand in an attempt to placate the man. “Your talents could provide new insights.”

“It is impossible to do a better job at finding nothing, magier abilities or not.”

Dalgand sighed. Stephen had been assigned to him on his first overseer job, and he had chosen the man for his team each subsequent time. He was a master at his work, and Dalgand trusted in everything he said, current argument included. Unfortunately, as they were stuck there for a few weeks longer, he could do nothing but calm Stephen's concerns.

“The Council would not send us if they did not think this ruin was of some importance,” he lied, strictly for the sake of keeping morale. “This ruin was chosen by Master Hilbren himself, and I for one am not going to question his decision.”

Stephen continued to grumble, but returned to his work. Mathis Hilbren was the Head Master of Thurengein's Council of Magier, and was both powerful and wise. Hilbren had previously been the Council Firebrand before being chosen to be Head Master. Since he had taken charge of the Council, few had questioned his judgment. It was not that he lead through fear, though he certainly had enough magical ability to do so. Rather, his decisions always proved right, and his wisdom proved true.

With his charge momentarily pacified, Dalgand moved on to survey the next archeologist's work. It was true that nothing particularly incredible had been found yet. The dig had been ordered over a month ago, and not much more than a few small relics had been found. They were certainly magnificent in their own right and worth preservation, but they were not what the magier team had been sent to look for. Magier archeologists were only sent to find items with magical properties.

It had been some four hundred years ago when magic first appears in the world. It had been a useful tool, and a powerful weapon used most often in territorial wars. However, the people soon discovered that magic had corrupted those who wielded it. The magieri turned on their lords and fought to take control of the land. Their assault devastated legions of proud warriors, and the magieri's conquest would have been successful if not for the hero Hildebrand. He led the warriors of Thurengein in a final desperate counter offensive, and sealed away the magieri's magic.

Though magic had eventually been purified and used again, the ability to use magic had not passed beyond Hildebrand's generation. There had been a myth that the magieri of old had found a way to preserve their knowledge and talents, until the excavation of ruins on the northern border of Thurengein proved it to be true. Most of what happened there was still shrouded in mystery and speculation, but it soon became obvious that people were developing the gift once more, and even children were being born with the ability to use magic.

Dalgand did not expect or hope to find something as important as that, but he fully believed there had to be more to the ruins than rocks and relics for Hilbren himself to request the dig.

He continued on his round. Compared to his last dig, this ruin was rather small, but no less beautiful. It had once been a small town built in the shadow of a mountain. On the eastern edge of the town there was a worn down tower built into the roots of the mountain. The top of the tower had crumbled and blocked the doorway during the scholar's last dig. They had been unable to regain entrance, but the windows along the tower's sides showed that the inside had remained mostly intact. Around the base of the tower was a semi circle of five alchemists he has assigned to assess the stability and safety of the structure. A faint purple glow surrounded their outstretched hands.

He silently walked up to the group and waited for them to finish. He felt goosebumps forming on his skin from being so close to so much magical energy. Just then the purple glow faded from the alchemists' hands, and they turned to greet him.

The head of the group strode up to him and bowed.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Master Dalgand,” he said and smiled. “The stone had some more cracks than expected.”

“Not at all, Yosef. It is I who should apologize for my impatience,” said Dalgand as he patted the man on the shoulder. “Have you finished probing it now?”

Yosef sighed. “Yes, sir. It is as we feared. The stone can be cleared from the doorway easily, but the walls are likely too weak to handle it. It will surely collapse completely if we attempt to clear it.”

Dalgand nodded. “Well then, let's strengthen the walls.”

He joined the other alchemists, stretching his arms up and turning his palms towards the tower. He then opened his mind and his senses, allowing the very essence of the world to come flooding in. This was the magic sense that all magieri possessed. It allowed them to feel the magical energies of the world, harness them, and use them. Alchemists, however, were masters of their magic sense. They honed it until they could use the energy around them to sense the distinct properties of everything in their environment, and enhance or weaken them.

The glow enveloped their hands once again, and they spread the energy to the tower. Dalgand felt his mind race along the energies as a carriage on a highway. His mind met the tower wall, and he entered it. All of the cracks and weaknesses in the stone were revealed to him from the others' analysis. He felt the weight of the wall, almost too much to bare. He felt pieces of stone split and fall to the ground. Even if they did not move the crumbled stones from the doorway, this tower would not last many more years.

He focused his attention on the masonry. It had been very solid work in its time. However, its strength was dwindling, causing its weight to become powerful. He focused on the strength of the stone, feeling the others do the same. He then willed the stone to become stronger, and lessened the weight to keep balance between the stone's properties.

It only took a few minutes to strengthen the tower with their combined efforts. As the five alchemists took a well deserved rest, Dalgand inspected the stone. It felt smooth and solid to the touch. He took a knife out of his shoulder pack and picked at the mortar. He could only force the tip in, and was unable to chip any away.

“Well done, gentlemen,” he said as he rejoined the group. “If you would be so kind as to clear the rubble from the doorway, you can start investigating the inside tomorrow.”

It was dusk by the time the doorway was clear. Cooking fires were springing up where the town square had once been. As the magieri laughed and sang around the fires, Dalgand finished writing the day's reports. He then slept, eagerly anticipating what would be found tomorrow.

* * *

By dawn of the following morning, the team of five alchemists had begun to take an inventory of the tower. Dalgand has brought all records from the scholars' dig with them. They used the records to find items that had already been noted, removing them first so that only new items for study remained in the tower.

He stood nearby to oversee the process, masterfully containing his excitement. With each item brought out he felt an urge to take it and examine it himself, but did not dare to hinder the archeologists. So many items emerged; chests, ancient artifacts, but mostly books and parchment. How he longed to peruse those texts. Who knew what insights or secrets they could reveal? He was so entranced by the line of precious artifacts emerging from the doorway that he did not notice Yosef had walked over to him holding the inventory list.

“Master Dalgand,” Yosef said and paused, giving the man a moment to regain his wits.

He quickly shifted his attention. “Yes, Yosef. What can I do for you?”

“Master Dalgand, I did a cursory check against the records you provided us. I noticed something odd and thought I should tell you.”

His heartbeat quickened. “What did you find?”

“Sir, it seems as though most of the items in the tower were already cataloged before the cave in.”

Dalgand's spirits sank. “You're certain?”

“Yes, sir. The scholars were very thorough. They kept a list of everything surveyed, right down to the candlesticks.”

He felt like a fool. He had allowed his hope of finding something here to grow so large, and all because Master Hilbren had personally sent him. He had always known his fellow Council Masters thought him a bother, but had believed that the Head Master, at least, would see the worth in all of his underlings. That belief had kept his determination strong, had given him the will to accept every task and challenge head on.

He forced a smile. “Well, it seems we shall have less work to do than expected. Keep this information to yourself. I don't want to chance overlooking anything new because the men think their job has already been done for them.”

Yosef gave a knowing smile back. “Business as usual it is, sir.”

Dalgand signed and leaned on his staff. He should have expected this. Though he trusted Yosef completely and knew his analysis would likely prove correct, something in the back of his mind still insisted there must be some mistake. He had always known tasks delegated to him were meaningless, but they had always come from other Council Masters. Despite how it seemed, he could not bring himself to truly believe the Head Master would do the same.

“If he wanted to give me a useless task, he could have send one of his apprentices to give it to me,” he thought. “But I don't understand what he could think I would find here.”

By that point the entire archeological team had wandered over to help inspect the items being taken from the tower. There were twenty-five of them archeologists in all, well-trained and hardworking. Each piece was handled as delicately as a work of stained glass, and gently laid into crates packed with wool.

He strode through the groups towards the tower. Yosef was inside indicating the last few items to be taken out. As the last items were removed, Dalgand stepped inside and immediately felt a prickling sensation on his skin. His eyes widened.

“There is something in here,” he said softly.

“Sir?” Yosef gave him a questioning look.

“You don't feel it?”

Yosef gave a sheepish smile. “Sir, my skill is not exactly at the level yours is.”

“My mistake. I meant no offense. But still...”

A look of intense concentration passed over Dalgand's face. He reached out with his mind, touching the objects around him with his senses. The feeling of nearby magic was faint, and everything he reached out to gave no sensation of having been altered magically. It was maddening. He concentrated harder, scrutinized the room more thoroughly. The desk was empty, the shelves were bare with no secret compartments to speak of.

As his awareness stretched and intensified, he began to feel the interference of the alterations they had done to the tower walls the previous day. They hummed at the edge of his mind, but there was something else there. Something else was making the faintest movement at the far reaches of his mind. If he could only grasp for it!

His eyes shot open. “Of course!”

“Sir?” Yosef asked with obvious concern.

Dalgand knelt down and slid his hand along the bare wood floor.

“Don't you think it's odd that the wood floor is solid and sturdy, even though the stone walls were not?” he asked Yosef.

“I would assume the collapse kept the innards preserved, sir.” Yosef replied.

Dalgand smiled as he shook his head. “No, not possible. Rain still leaks in. Pests find a way inside as well. This floor was strengthened and preserved with alchemy.”

Yosef was visibly taken aback. “But that would have been hundreds of years ago! How could it have survived that long even with an alchemist's touch?”

“The weaving must have been phenomenal, especially for me to still feel it now.” He chucked a little. “You can't even feel a difference in the floorboards. There isn't a single gap or seam.”

“A seam for what?”

“A secret compartment, of course! You wouldn't preserve the floor unless there was something to keep safe underneath it.”

Yosef's eyes widened. “Shall I call for the other alchemists?”

“No, I think it would be best if I did this one on my own.”

Dalgand's assumption was correct. The alterations on the floorboards were almost imperceptible, and yet so complex. It was as though the alchemy that had been used on the boards was different than the alchemy he had learned and mastered. It was memorizing, and he found it difficult to decide between studying the spell and tearing it to shreds to find what secrets it would reveal.

The difference in technique also made it difficult to tell what exactly had been done to the boards. They had been strengthened, of course, but a hidden compartment would have a door. Despite all his training, he could not imagine any way to use alchemy to make a halved board into a perfectly whole one again. He did the only thing he could think of and weakened the boards. He sat back on his heels and looked up at Yosef.

“I'm going to need an axe.”

* * *

“Sir, please, you must be careful,” Yosef pleaded as he cringed at the sight of Dalgand preparing to hack into a ruin with an axe.

He was trying to find a hollow area close to the door by knocking on the wood. His assumption was that it would be the least likely place to have an artifact directly underneath it.

“I am aware of your concern, Yosef,” he calmly said as he lined the head of the axe up with the floor board he intended to split. “But I could be a lot more careful if there were less distractions.”

He was also concerned about using an axe on the floor. In reality, he only needed one gap in the boards that he could use alchemy to increase, or so he hoped. However, if he did happen to sing too hard and damage something underneath, he would eternally feel like a hasty fool. It did not help that he had not wielded an axe to cut wood since he was a youth going through Firebrand training.

“I strongly hope there will be no need to ask for my ancestors' forgiveness,” he said in a half-hearted attempt at humor, then let the axe fall.

Yosef both jumped and cowered as the axe bit into the wood. Dalgand's heart almost stopped as he wondered if that was only the resistance of the floor he had felt, or something he had hit under it. He realized he was still holding his breath and exhaled slowly to calm his nerves. As he did, the distinct purple glow of an alchemist at work enveloped him. The axe had gone through two boards, the combined width of which would be more than enough to have a look inside and remove any hidden items.

He searched the floor with his mind, paying special attention to the break in the boards. If the original user of this tower had found a way to seal cracks, perhaps he could find a way to create them. He filled the whole he had created with his mind, and he noticed something nearly miraculous. The spell that had sealed the floor was unraveling. It was as though it had reacted to his attempt to undo it all on its own. Just then he began to hear creaks and groans. He yanked his consciousness back into himself.

“Yosef, get out!” he shouted.

Yosef did not need to be told twice. A case of shelves had crashed through the floor in the far corner of the room as the floorboards below it simply collapsed whole. The two men dove out the doorway and watched as every floorboard fell away, causing the remaining furniture to crash to the area below.

By this time the whole camp had come running. Dalgand was in shock. He was incredibly confused as to what had happened, and yet he felt a feeling of despair creeping over him. What if he had just inadvertently caused the destruction of whatever it was he had hoped to discover?

Yosef was already scrambling over to the threshold to view the damage. Everyone else, though curious, kept their distance. Stephen helped Dalgand to his feet. As the dust settled, Yosef turned and looked at him. His face was pale and his eyes wide, making Dalgand fear the worst.

“Sir,” Yosef said in a shaky voice, “you should see this.”

He was at the threshold in an instant staring over the edge into a rather large, dark pit. Aside from the destroyed pieces of furniture, there was nothing discernibly interesting within it. He looked around him and found his lantern staff, then held the lantern aloft over the pit. With his free hand, he reached towards the grated flame and urged it to become larger with his Firebrand sense. The flame grew large enough to envelop the grated lantern that had contained it, and it lapped against the wood of the staff.

The ball of flame illuminated the pit, and Yosef gasped. Dalgand's jaw dropped wide open at the view before him. Leading down from the threshold was a case of stairs carved from the stone of the mountain. It lead all the way to the floor of the pit, and past the wreckage of the furniture was a stone door that lead further into the mountain.

“The floorboards didn't even have any support,” he said in awe. “This passage wasn't built into the floor. The tower was built to conceal this passage.”

“Are you certain?” Yosef asked.

“Everything we took from the tower was of little to no consequence. No magical items, no tools from any school of magic, and the books weren't even impressive. And yet here is a hidden stair and doorway under floorboards that were held together by alchemy more potent than I have ever seen.” He nodded. “Yes, I am certain this is the true purpose of this tower's existence.”

“We will begin clearing the debris at once.”

* * *

Yosef's team did not rest for a moment. When daylight began to fade, they brought out dozens of lanterns and hammered stakes into the walls to hang them. Dalgand watched over their progress like a hawk. For so long these men had seen one empty ruin after another. Now the same curious fervor Dalgand had always felt had infected them as well.

The sun had almost completely vanished by the time they had cleared the area in front of the stone doorway. Shadows danced in the flickering lantern light as the entire archeological crew attempted to squeeze themselves in for a view. Stephen, Yosef, and Dalgand studied the stone door.

Despite the setup leading to the door, it was surprisingly unremarkable. There were no runes or glyphs on it, no wards, not even a visible lock. There was only a handle that seemed to have been carved from the same slab as the door had.

“It is a little plain. Perhaps just a basement door?” asked Stephen.

“Or perhaps after all you must go through to even find this door, the creator did not feel it necessary to make opening it complicated?” Yosef replied.

Stephen grumbled in response. He did not like being talked back to by people younger than him.

“There is only one way to find out,” said Dalgand, and he grasped the handle.

The door did not open freely. It had the usual resistance of an object that had been sitting in place for so long, taking a few good tugs before it was loosed from its frame. As the door slowly swung open, cool, damp air touched their faces. From somewhere far off they could hear the sound of water dripping. The hall before them was dark, but in the distance a faint glow was visible. It was as though someone had lit candles for them already. The eagerness Dalgand had felt for exploring the cavern faded at the sight.

“Shall we wait til morning?” Yosef asked, as though he had read his mind.

“You know, I do not honestly think it would be any less unnerving in the daylight,” said Dalgand slowly. “It would still be just as dark in here.”

Yosef nodded briefly.

“I would not ask either of you to come with me-” Dalgand began.

“And that's because you would not have to,” Stephen said gruffly and took up a lantern.

Dalgand smiled at the man then looked to his left to see Yosef grab a lantern as well. He felt a surge of confidence and stepped through the door. Stephen signaled for the rest of the group to stay put before he and Yosef followed.

The first thing they noticed about the passage was that the walls and ceiling were perfectly smooth, as though some artist had gone through great pains to chisel it. The air had a slight tingling sensation to it, leading Dalgand to believe that whatever alchemist had sealed the floorboards had also carved the tunnel. As he held his staff up to the walls, he noticed shimmering swirls of some glittering mineral.

“Beautiful,” he breathed.

They came to the glow they had seen from the doorway. It lit up a sudden turn in the passage. As they rounded the corner, they saw the glow emanated from some sort of crystal, orange and flickering like a flame.

“Amazing!” exclaimed Yosef as he reached out to touch it. He flinched instinctively, expecting it to be warm. Instead, it was as cold as stone.

“It looks like someone trapped a flame inside of it,” Stephen said.

“But that's impossible. A flame can't burn without air,” said Yosef with wonder in his voice.

Dalgand stared at the crystal for a moment, frowning as though he were trying to figure out a riddle.

“I think it would be best if we no longer underestimated the abilities of the alchemist who created this place,” he said and moved on.

There were similar crystals on either wall every few feet. They illuminated the way to another stone door, as unadorned as the first. Dalgand grasped the handle, hoping it would open just as easily. As he did so the hair on the back of his neck bristled, and a shiver ran down his spine. There was definitely something imbued with magic on the other side of the door.

The second door opened without resistance, and they were greeted with pitch black. It was an odd darkness, certainly unnatural. Despite the lanterns they held and the crystals on the walls behind them, the illumination of the hall barely reached into the room. It was as though the shadows were attempting to push the light out.

“Sir...” Yosef trailed off, but Dalgand knew what he was thinking. This room was making them all uneasy.

He breathed deeply, then stepped inside. The room was colder than the stone hall, and the air felt as though it had weight to it. His staff lit up only a small area around him, and try as he might it, seemed as though making the flame larger had no greater effect. He could hear a soft hissing sound like air passing through a crack in a wall, only he could have sworn he heard some discernible words in it. Behind him, Yosef gasped in fear.

“I hear whispers,” he said, a noticeable shakiness in his voice.

“Calm yourself,” Dalgand said softly. “There is nothing to fear.”

If only I could believe that too, he thought. The unrelenting darkness made their progress surveying the room very slow. Each step had to be made slowly and carefully so as not to break a hidden artifact, or one's own toe. Even with the slowed pace, it looked as though the room was entirely empty. As Dalgand squinted into the dim illumination of his staff, he felt something on his cheek, causing his body to go rigid. It had felt like fingertips caressing him. His heart jumped into his throat as a soft giggle followed.

He wanted to shout. He wanted to demand the person toying with him come out and face him. However, some deeper part of him knew the truth. He, Yosef, and Stephen were the only ones in there.

“Have either of you had any luck?” he asked. He was surprised to hear his voice come out as a whisper.

Stephen scoffed. “I'm lucky to be able to find myself in this darkness.”

Suddenly, Yosef let out a yell and a curse.

Dalgand inched his way towards the sound, and found the man sprawled over a stone chest. Amazingly, it looked like it had been carved from the same stone that made the floor.

“I think I found something,” Yosef groaned as he picked himself up.

“Indeed,” Dalgand solemnly replied. He knelt down in front of the chest and handed his staff to Yosef.

The combined light of the three lanterns spread far enough for him to see the entire chest. It was rather small, made entirely of stone, and as unadorned as the doors had been. Also like the doors, it had no lock. Despite the protection of the tower, it seemed whoever made this chest wanted it to be found. The thought was a bit frightening.

He reached out and touched the lid. If the room was simply cold, then the chest was ice. An inhuman gasp resounded through the room as the feeling of dozens of eyes watching crept over the three men.

“I do not mean to sound alarmist, gentlemen,” he whispered, “but prepare yourselves for what may be inside.

The two men opened their senses in preparation. Each of them glowed the soft red of one who had gone through novice Firebrand training. Dalgand slowly pushed the lid off, filling the room with the sound of grinding stone. The lid landed with a thus behind the chest, exposing a pitch black space inside. He took his staff back from Yosef and carefully dangled the lantern inside. As he did, he noticed a squirming black mass inside and felt a deep sensation of cold pierce his heart. He tried to shout for his companions to run, but the mass had already shot outwards at him, and was encircling him like a whirlwind. From somewhere in the distance of his mind, he heard Yosef and Stephen shouting for him. He heard other voices as well: laughter, wails of the deepest sorrow, and an incessant chanting. Through the whirl of black, he saw the face of a very old man. His hair hunt long and silver in small patches, his eyes were so sunken that they appeared completely empty. He smiled, revealing three very rotted teeth.

“You will be whole,” the old man said with a voice that sounded like it came from a throat filled with dust.

Then, Dalgand's world went black.

Reviews

[f1rstperson]

Damn that was good. I love the way you describe alchemy and how those who practice it sense the energy of a place and kind of mind meld with things. It's a wonderful way to explain that magic and I find it really beautiful too. I think the "lower" recognition of the alchemist among magic users is also interesting as well; because it sets up a bit of conflict and tension to begin with. The characters as well are very interesting in the way they come across and I very much look forward to flash backs from them.

The only critiques I have are nit-picky. In a lot of your paragraphs you start them with "Dalgand", and for some reason that stops me up a bit. I would love to see more about what the other ranks of magic users are; you did mention some elemental ones, but is it only that, and if so is it just the classic Greek elements? Are magic users born with the ability or do they have the ability to learn it? Of course, this is all stuff that could be included in later chapters too, if you feel it's necessary to include it at all.

[daftalchemist]

The Dalgand thing bugs me too! I suck at pruning it back somehow though. I'll have to go back through. I'll be getting to the other magic types eventually, but it's early and some things are rather main story line integral that can't be revealed until a bit later. ;)

[f1rstperson]

You can either replace Dalgand with "he", or leave the pronoun out and start with the verb if there is one?

[daftalchemist]

I've done that a few times, but my brain always goes "but it's confusing now!" and I leave in more "Dalgand"'s than I take out.