《The Edenfield Chornicles》


 Prologue

    <blockquote>


    ¡°You were never a prince. You were never born in this kingdom. But you are strong, and you have a good heart. Should fate be kind, there may come a moment when you find your way back once more. Until then, embrace your life unshackled by these burdens..¡±


    </blockquote>


    Silence fills in the hallway.


    Silence holds its breath, Stillness wraps the palace in peace, The night¡¯s quiet pause.


    Footsteps echo clear, Sharp against cold stone walls, Rhythm in the night.


    Tap. Tap. Tap.


    A figure emerges from the hallway of the kingdom''s palace, her crimson cloak swirled with each step, its vivid colour a striking challenge to the sombre, grey expanse of the grand hallway. Her short crimson hair, a wild tempest, swirled about her elegant features¡ªthose that bore the faintest trace of dissatisfaction. Her arms, burdened by the weight of ancient tomes, codices, and scrolls, moved with a delicate grace as she forged ahead. A polished brass mahogany staff, ornate and gleaming, rested beneath her arm, precariously balanced on the brink of free fall as she shifted the weight of her tomes.


    It was The Alchemist


    ¡°Of all the absurd ideas,¡± she grumbled, her voice resonating softly in the dim light. ¡°Twin princes¡­ wielders of the Alchemical art!" She said sarcastically, "As though they possessed the power to command anything other than the art of tormenting my very own existence!¡±


    She huffed, adjusting the stack of books as they threatened to topple. The staff bumped against her side, and she let out a frustrated sigh.


    ¡°If they spent half as much effort on their lessons as they do on their escapes, they¡¯d be prodigies by now,¡± she muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm. ¡°But nooo, of course not. Why learn the art of transmutation when they can climb trees or¡­ whatever it is they do when they vanish.¡±


    The Alchemist¡¯s steps quickened as her irritation mounted.


    ¡°But of course, the wise king insists,¡± she continued, mimicking a regal tone, ¡®¡®They must master Alchemy if they are to stand againstThem.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°Never mind that they barely know a crucible from a cauldron.¡±


    The hallway stretched on, the oppressive silence broken only by her footsteps and her muttering.


    Her grip tightened as the pile swayed again. ¡°And now I have todragthese lessons to their chambers? Hmph. No excuses this time!¡± she declared with a hint of triumph in her tone. ¡°If they won¡¯t come to their lessons, I¡¯ll bring the lessons to them!¡±


    She stopped to adjust the staff under her arm, sighing as she resumed her walk. ¡°Honestly, this isn¡¯t even about Alchemy anymore. It¡¯s about him.¡± Her voice softened, though the irritation lingered. ¡°The king thinks the world will bend to his will if he just molds them into what he wants. But they¡­¡± Her lips curved into a faint, rueful smile. ¡°They¡¯re not his tools. And they¡¯ll never learn Alchemy with their hearts elsewhere.¡±


    The Alchemist¡¯s steps grew slower as she neared a junction in the corridor, her thoughts drifting. For a moment, the youthful playfulness in her demeanor returned, a flicker of rebellion sparking in her emerald eyes. ¡°Maybe I should turn them into frogs for a day,¡± she mused aloud, her smile widening. ¡°See how far they run then.¡±


    The sound of footsteps stopped.


    Silence.


    She glanced over her shoulder, frowning. The air felt heavier now, the stillness unnerving. The flicker of the torches seemed dimmer, the shadows longer. Her grip on her staff tightened instinctively as she scanned the hallway behind her.


    Nothing.


    The hallway that stretched towards the Twin Princes'' chamber lay before her, shrouded in shadows and thick with an eerie silence. The Alchemist¡¯s boots echoed with a sharp cadence upon the cold stone floor as she drew near, her crimson cloak trailing behind her like blood in the shadows. In the dimly lit hallway, two royal guards stood sentinel, their halberds crossed in a formidable barrier, denying passage to any who dared approach. Their fully enclosed helmets bestowed upon them an imposing, faceless presence, a silent testament to their formidable nature.


    The Alchemist''s ire ignited once more. She shifted the staff beneath her arm, her stack of tomes teetering dangerously as she cast a fierce glare upon them.


    ¡°Step aside. I need to see the princes,¡± she demanded, her tone sharp.


    The guards stood unmoved, their silent defiance irritating her further. ¡°Did you not hear me?¡± she snapped. ¡°The king ordered me to tutor the princes tonight. Let me through!¡±


    The guards remained unmoved. One of them spoke, his voice muffled by the helmet. ¡°You cannot pass.¡±


    The Alchemist¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°And why not? By whose order?¡±


    The other guard answered flatly,


    ¡°By the order of the king.¡±


    Her irritation morphed into a chill that seeped into her very bones¡ªa foreboding dread that lingered in her very skin. The tomes she bore weighed upon her like the burdens of fate themselves, her thoughts surged forth in a tempest of urgency. Such a notion seemed most improbable. The King had given her a clear command to instruct the young princes on this very evening. He yearned for them to delve into their Alchemical studies, to prepare themselves for the trials that lay ahead. The breath of the Alchemist caught in her throat, and her eyes darted between the two guards.


    ¡°No¡­¡± she murmured, taking a step back. ¡°You¡¯re no royal guards.¡±


    A whisper of movement behind her. The Alchemist¡¯s instincts screamed danger. With a sharp clatter, she let her books fall, pivoting on her heel as two hooded figures materialised from the darkness, their daggers glinting ominously in the dim light. They surged forth, their intentions dark, seeking to seize her from behind.


    But she was faster.


    The Alchemist seized her staff from beneath her arm, the brass tip shimmering with a subtle glow as she summoned her alchemical power. With a swift gesture, she pointed at one of the guards. The metal of his chestplate shimmered, then visibly weakened. She sidestepped the assassin¡¯s attack, using her staff to redirect his momentum. The dagger plunged into the weakened chestplate, the force knocking the assassin out cold.


    The second impostor guard lunged forward with fierce intent. The Alchemist¡¯s staff spun in her grasp, a seamless extension of her very being. With a swift motion, she lunged upward, her strike striking against the false guard''s armour. With a surge of transmutational energy, the metal coiled tightly, hoisting the imposter from the ground as if he were but a feather in the wind. His breaths emerged in ragged gasps, each one a struggle as the armour constricted mercilessly around his chest.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± the Alchemist demanded, her voice cold and commanding. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    The imposter remained mute, his silence a stubborn defiance even in the face of his torment. The Alchemist''s fingers clenched around her staff, the armour yielding further under the strain, each tortured groan of metal echoing the agony that escaped his lips.


    ¡°Speak!¡± she commanded, her fury and trepidation surging forth like a tempest.


    At long last, with his final, laboured gasp, the imposter roared, ¡°By the order of the Black Hand!¡±


    "This realm shall crumble beneath the weight of its own treachery this very night!¡±


    His body fell slack, the armour relinquishing its cruel grip. The Alchemist remained motionless, her staff quivering ever so slightly in her grasp as the resonance of his words lingered in the stillness around her.


    The shadowy grip of the Black Hand looms, a silent force weaving through the tapestry of power and intrigue. The words sent a shiver down her spine, far colder than the darkest night could ever hope to be.


    Before she could catch her breath, movement drew her gaze down the hallway. Three more guards stood there, their halberds lowered in readiness. Their posture was rigid, their silence damning. They had been heading toward the Twin Princes¡¯ chamber but now stood frozen, caught off-guard by their cover being blown.


    The Alchemist¡¯s blood ran cold. They weren¡¯t guards either.


    In unison, the impostors readied their halberds, their visors angling towards her with a menacing intent. The Alchemist lifted her staff, its brass head shimmering with a burgeoning energy, a harbinger of the alchemical forces at her command. She planted her feet firmly, her crimson cloak swirling around her as the air thickened with palpable tension.


    The princes found themselves ensnared on the brink of peril.


    No¡ªthe entire realm teetered on the brink of peril.


    -o-


    Upon awakening, the Older Twin was met with an enveloping darkness and an unsettling stillness. His dreams¡ªvague and glimmering¡ªfractured into a thousand pieces. Departing with nothing but a faint, lingering echo of what once was.


    A jarring, resonant clash of steel rang out from the shadows beyond the chamber. A strangled cry echoed through the air, abruptly silenced by a chilling, wet, gurgling sound.


    The stillness that ensued hung in the air, thick and oppressive. He sprang to attention, his heart pounding like a war drum in his chest.


    ¡°Did you hear that?¡± he whispered hoarsely, shaking his younger brother awake.


    ¡°What...?¡± The Younger Twin stirred awake, his voice thick with sleep.


    The sounds intensified, reverberating through the air with an urgency that could not be ignored. Boots echoed against the marble floors, the sharp sound of glass shattering resonating through the air.


    Stillness, choking and oppresive enveloped the surroundings.


    The door to their chamber swung wide


    It crashes against the wall with a force that echoed through the bedroom chamber of the young princes. A silhouette loomed. The figure stood stark against the dim glow of torchlight spilling from the corridor. The Older Twin recoiled, his form tense with fear, yet the figure emerged into the lights of the gaslamps inside.


    It was the Alchemist


    Steely resolve etched her angular face; her hair lay in wild disarray. Her staff gripped firmly in her hands, as if she wielded a spear. With a forceful motion, she slammed the door shut, her hand twisting the key in the lock before she secured the bolt with a decisive snap.


    ¡°Wake up, boys. Quickly now.¡± She moved to the Younger Twin¡¯s bedside, shaking his shoulder gently amidst her own panic. ¡°You must come with me. Don¡¯t worry about changing¡ªjust your slippers, yes? That¡¯s it.¡±


    ¡°Wha- What¡¯s happening?¡° the Older Twin asked, his voice trembling.


    The Alchemist crouched before him. Her sharp emerald green eyes were steady and reassuring. ¡°There are some bad people in the palace tonight,¡° she whispered. ¡°But I won¡¯t let them hurt you. You must stay close to me, and we¡¯ll be fine. Do you understand?¡±


    The twins sat in their beds, clearly frozen trying to process what had happened


    The Alchemist took her breath again, "Do you understand?" she repeated, softer this time.


    The Older Twin nodded, his chest tight with fear. Now more alert, the Younger Twin came to stand beside his brother, clutching his arm.


    ¡°Good,¡° the Alchemist said, forcing a smile, her voice calm but firm. She turned toward the door as it shuddered under a heavy blow.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    A heavy thud reverberated through the door behind them.


    The sharp crack of splintering wood echoed through the air. The Alchemist whirled, her staff lifted high, ready to channel her power. A radiant barrier of light sprang to life, shimmering with an ethereal glow as it stretched across the door.


    The door shattered with a resounding crack, sending shards of wood flying in all directions. Three hooded figures surged into the room, their daggers and short swords catching the faint light and reflecting it like shards of ice. The Alchemist advanced, her staff lifted high, a beacon of power and intent.


    ¡°Stay behind me,¡± she commanded, her voice resolute.


    The hooded figures closed in, yet the Alchemist moved with swiftness unmatched by the assailants. As she raises her staff, warm light emanated from her staff, illuminating the shadows around her. The metal frames of the princes'' beds shimmered and twisted, transforming into fluid. The twins inhaled sharply, their eyes wide as the liquid metal ascended, twisting and turning like a dance of molten silver in the air.


    ¡°Close your eyes,¡± she said, her voice gentle but urgent.


    The Older Twin complied without hesitation. He pressed his eyes tightly closed, yet the Younger Twin dared to glance through his lashes. With a deft motion of the Alchemist¡¯s wrist, the liquid metal crystallised into razor-sharp shards that shot forth, aimed directly at the intruders. The sound of impact resonated with a sickening finality, soon accompanied by the heavy thuds of bodies collapsing to the ground.


    As the Older Twin finally summoned the courage to open his eyes, a wave of nausea washed over him at the sight before him. The cloaked figures remained still, a dark stain spreading beneath their forms. Blood pooling beneath them. The Younger Twin''s grip on his arm grew firm, a subtle tremor coursing through it.


    The Alchemist knelt before them, her voice a gentle whisper, filled with an ancient wisdom. ¡°Look at me, not on them,¡± she urged, her eyes warm even as her voice carried an edge of urgency. ¡°I know this is frightening, but we must keep moving. Can you do that for me?¡±


    The boys exchanged glances, their bodies trembling with fear. Yet, she bestowed a subtle, uplifting smile. ¡°Good. Hold onto each other and follow me. I¡¯ll take care of the rest.¡±


    -o-


    The hallway stretched ahead, the sight was beyond nightmare. Royal Guards engaged fiercely with mercenaries and assassins clad in mismatched armour, the sound of swords clashing against shields echoing through the corridor. Clouds of smoke from a fire stings deeply in their nose, the sharp smell was mixed with the metallic scent of blood and the desperate wails of the wounded.


    The Alchemist moved in swift arcs. As she moved, her staff flashed as she turned the simplest objects into weapons. A decorative vase became a cloud of shrapnel, cutting down an attacker who lunged at them. A decorative armour become twisting metal threads, forcing another enemy to retreat.


    ¡°Keep close,¡° she reminded the princes as they followed her. Their tiny hands clutched at her robes.


    Amidst the chaos of the palace, the twins found solace in the steady demeanour of the Alchemist. As yet another assassin emerged from the shadows, the Alchemist responded with a decisive strike, rendering him incapacitated in an instant. The Older Twin turned his gaze away, his hold on his brother¡¯s hand growing firmer.


    The Younger Twin, typically so composed, faltered as he tripped over a corpse of a Royal Guard, his pale face glistening with sweat. The Alchemist placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, grounding him in the moment. ¡°You¡¯re brave,¡° she whispered. ¡°Just a little further now.¡±


    The palace stood in ruins, its former magnificence overshadowed by the scars of battle. The Alchemist¡¯s determination served as their guiding light through the chaos. She leads them through the darkness, navigating the horrors that surround them in search of the safety that awaits beyond the shadows.


    -o-


    The Alchemist heaved the massive doors of the throne room, the creak of the ancient wood echoing through the vast chamber. With her staff raised high, the radiant tip cast a warm glow, piercing through the shadows that lights the surroundings. The chamber, once a symbol of might and power, now lay in a state of disarray. Tattered tapestries drooped in sorrow, shards of glass sparkled across the polished marble, and the throne itself was marred by the deep wounds of battle. The marble floor is stained with the blood of the royal guards, formidable warriors, their bodies lies in defeat.


    In the heart of the chamber loomed a figure, encased in dark iron armour, his face hidden behind a mask shaped like a raven. He radiated threat, his enormous, spiked mace perched effortlessly on his shoulder, as though it were as light as a feather.


    The Alchemist¡¯s breath sharpen. She tightened her grip on her staff, drawing the Older and Younger Twins closer behind her. ¡°Stay behind me,¡° she whispered, her voice steady despite the fear.


    The figure clad in the raven mask bowed his head, a flicker of joy shimmering within his gaze. ¡°Ah, the King¡¯s sorceress fancies herself capable of shielding them from my grasp,¡± he growled, his voice reverberating with a twisted, metallic timbre through the visage that concealed him. With a resolute stride, he pressed onwards, the mace trailing behind him, its weight scraping against the cold stone floor, issuing forth a discordant, rasping echo. ¡°Yield them unto me, and I shall grant them a swift end.¡±


    ¡°I am no sorceress,¡± The Alchemist said, raising her staff, ¡°I¡¯m an Alchemist, and you have to kill me first,¡± she answered, her voice a whisper yet resolute as the mountains stand against the storm.


    With a decisive motion, she propelled her staff ahead, the gleaming mahogany wood radiating with the essence of alchemical might. The marble beneath the enforcer¡¯s feet twisted and melted, dragging him into its depths. He responded with a fierce retaliation, bringing his mace down upon the earth in a thunderous impact.


    The surge of energy fractured the fluid stone. It unleashes a storm of shards, scattering them in every conceivable direction.


    The twins huddled behind her, their wide eyes reflecting the chaos. The Older Twin¡¯s heart raced as he clutched his brother¡¯s hand.


    The Alchemist advanced with meticulous grace. She transforms the remnants of broken marble into deadly spears and launches them with precision. Yet the man with the raven mask moved with a swiftness that belied his imposing size.


    With each swing of his mace, he sent the projectiles spiralling away, his strikes efficient and brutal.


    ¡°You possess great courage, Alchemist¡­¡± he taunts, stepping closer, ¡°Yet you are undeniably foolish.¡±


    With a powerful motion, he swung the mace in a sweeping arc, narrowly missing the Alchemist, who deftly ducked to avoid the blow. The tremendous arc of the swing fractured a nearby column, unleashing a cascade of dust and debris that fell like a shroud over the throne chamber.


    ¡°Run!¡° she shouted to the twins, her voice sharp with urgency.


    The boys paused, uncertainty flickering in their eyes, but the Younger Twin grasped his brother¡¯s arm, urging him forward towards the distant shadows of the room.


    The Alchemist unleashed yet another wave of assault. This time, the debris transformed into a relentless storm of sharp blades, targeting the enforcer¡¯s vulnerable joints with precision. One struck him in the shoulder, forcing him to stagger back, the impact reverberating through his body. She seized the moment, channelling every ounce of her strength to hold him back.


    Yet she pressed on, unwavering in her pursuit recklessly. With a decisive strike, he striked The Alchemist square in the chest. The impact hurled her against a shattered pillar, the ancient stone groaning under the sudden violence. She inhaled sharply, a jolt of pain coursing through her lower back as she fought to push herself up.


    The battle raged with intensity, a tempest of turmoil and resolve. The Alchemist unleashed her strikes with precision, each blow a calculated dance of power and intent. Crafting the golden chandelier above the enforcer into a cascade of sharp, golden rain. In that instant of overwhelming force, not a single shard of gold could breach the formidable dark iron armour of the.


    She moved with a fluid grace, darting and weaving through the chaos around her. Employing the grandeur of the throne room as a weapon against The Masked Raven¡ªcrystal chandeliers splintered into deadly shards that fell like spears, gilded furniture contorted into formidable barriers. Yet, the enforcer''s overwhelming might and relentless onslaught shattered her defences.


    With each strike, she stumbled, her breaths becoming increasingly laboured. A strike from the enforcer¡¯s mace sent her crashing into a column, her staff clattering against the cold stone floor beneath her.


    Amidst the turmoil, she caught sight of the twins¡ªyet only one stood before her.


    ¡°Where¡¯s your brother?¡± she gasped, her eyes widening as they fixed on the Older Twin.


    ¡°I¡ªI don¡¯t know!¡° he stammered, his voice trembling.


    Desperate, she forced herself to her feet, limping toward the Older Twin. Her hands trembled as she lifted his wounded body, her heart pounding. The Younger Twin was gone, but she couldn¡¯t stay. Not now.


    -o-


    Beyond the palace gates, the night unravelled into chaos. Flames roared wildly, their heat licking the air, while distant cries pierced the night, a haunting symphony of chaos. Amidst the chaos, her gaze fell upon a fisherman¡¯s cart, heavy with barrels brimming with the day¡¯s catch.


    She faltered as she approached, the weight of the Older Twin held gently in her arms. Worry carved deep lines into his face as the fisherman raised his gaze from his crouched position beside the cart.


    ¡°Help me,¡° she pleaded. ¡°Please.¡±


    He nodded, lifting the lid of an empty barrel. The Alchemist lowered the boy inside, arranging the surrounding fish to hide him from view. The Older Twin stirred, his eyelids fluttering.


    The Alchemist brushed his hair back, her voice soft but firm. ¡°Listen to me. You must stay here. These kind people will take you to safety.¡±


    His eyes opened, glassy with confusion. ¡°My brother...?¡±


    She swallowed hard, her voice catching. ¡°I¡¯ll find your brother. I promise. But you must get away now. Do you understand?¡±


    He nodded, tears slipping down his cheeks.


    The Court Alchemist crouched beside the cart. Her hands trembling as she adjusted the barrel concealing the Older Twin. The boy stirred, his eyes fluttering open. His pale face, streaked with soot, filled with confusion and fear.


    ¡°Shh,¡° she whispered, her voice soft but tinged with sorrow. ¡°You¡¯re safe. I promise.¡±


    The fisherman stood nearby, shifting from foot to foot. ¡°How far do you want me to take him?¡° he asked, his voice low and uncertain.


    ¡°As far as you can go, far west if you must.¡° the Alchemist replied, though her heart ached with every word. ¡°To a place where no one will find him.¡±


    The fisherman nodded, glancing at the chaos still unfolding in the palace. ¡°What about you?¡°


    ¡°I¡¯ll return for his brother,¡° she said, her voice resolute. ¡°But this one must leave now.¡±


    Her mind flashed back to the throne room, the king¡¯s bloodied face pale as his voice rasped its last command.


    ¡°If the princes survive, you must erase their memories. They were never princes, never born of this kingdom. Only if fate binds them to the prophecy shall they return. Until then, they must live free of this burden. Protect their lives, even if it means burying their past.¡±


    The weight of those words bore down on her like an iron yoke. She looked at the boy in the cart, his innocent face still bearing traces of the life he would soon forget.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡° she whispered.


    The Alchemist reached for the small vial tucked within her belt. A swirling liquid of deep blue and shimmering indigo.The Memory Draught. Her hands shook as she uncorked it, the faint scent of rain-soaked earth rising into the air.


    The Older Twin stirred again, his half-lidded eyes meeting hers. ¡°Where... where¡¯s my brother?¡° he murmured.


    Tears welled in her eyes. ¡°He¡¯s safe. You both will be.¡±


    He tried to sit up, but she pressed her hand against his chest. ¡°Drink this,¡° she said, her voice trembling despite her efforts to remain composed. ¡°It will help you rest.¡±


    The boy lingered, his eyes desperately seeking hers. In his eyes, there was a glimmer of trust, delicate and tender, that pierced her heart with a profound ache. He parted his lips, surrendering to her as she gently poured the liquid into his mouth.


    The memories flooded back in bittersweet fragments: the joyous laughter shared with his brother in the royal gardens, the intense lessons under the watchful eyes of the court tutors, and the comforting warmth of his father¡¯s hand resting gently on his shoulder. Every piece dissolved like delicate mist under the warm embrace of the morning sun, vanishing into the emptiness.


    As the draught took effect, his eyes grew heavy, and his body relaxed. The Alchemist leaned close, her voice a whisper filled with sorrow and hope.


    ¡°You were never a prince. You were never born in this kingdom. But you are strong, and you are kind. Should fate be kind, there may come a moment when you find your way back once more. Until that moment arrives, embrace your life unshackled by these burdens..¡±


    She turned to the fisherman, her voice firmer now. ¡°Take him. Guard him with all the love and care you can muster, as if he were your own. No one must know who he is or where he came from.¡±


    The fisherman nodded, solemnly.


    As the cart began to creak and groan down the road, the Alchemist stood frozen, her heart heavy, watching it disappear into the enveloping fog of the night. Her chest tightened with a grief that weighed heavily on her heart.


    With a deep breath, she turned back towards the palace, ¡°I will find your brother,¡° she murmured in her voice, a promise carried on by the night wind. Then, staff in hand, she disappeared into the shadows once more.


    Turning, she faced the burning palace once more. Her heart ached, but her resolve was unshaken. Clutching the battered staff, she disappeared into the chaos, her silhouette swallowed by the smoke and flames.


    The fisherman covered the barrel, his hands trembling, and with a sharp whistle, he urged the cart forward into the night.


    Behind them, the palace burned, and the fate of the Younger Twin hung in the balance.


    -o-


    The Red-Haired Girl perched at her desk, as the soft morning light danced through the delicate lace curtains of her cosy chamber. The view from her window overlooked the palace perched upon the hill, its spires reaching skyward like slender, shimmering needles. It was a sight she had come to know well, yet its grandeur always managed to awaken something deep within her.


    Her desk was a chaotic tapestry of scrolls, papers, and sketches, each telling a story of its own. She had sketched illustrations of fantastical beings¡ªphoenixes adorned with elaborate feathered wings, dragons with luminous eyes, and gryphons boasting gracefully spiralled horns. Every figure bears its own annotations. Notes penned in her meticulous script, outlining their physiology and the herbs thought to possess healing properties. Alongside these sketches lay plans for poultices and elixirs, her thoughts spilling onto the page in a delightful whirlwind of organised chaos.


    She leaned back in her chair, a delicate smile gracing her lips. Her thoughts wandered to the grand palace and, even more so, to the princes who had forged bonds of friendship with her during her stay there.


    The girl¡¯s red hair framed a face lost in the twins¡¯ memories, her fingers tracing the edge of the sketch absentmindedly. The Older Twin¡¯s bold smiles and unrestrained spirit had bestowed upon her a sense of bravery; the Younger Twin¡¯s gentle insight had illuminated the grace found in introspection and the journey of self-discovery. United, they had transformed her perception of the world, urging her to look beyond the confines of what she believed to be her fate.


    She wanted to express her gratitude to them properly.


    Uncertain, her fingers lingered upon the meticulously folded paper that lay upon her desk. It was a letter she had wrote weeks prior, yet it remained unfinished, lingering in the shadows of her thoughts. The words seemed but a mere shadow, unable to capture the profound depths of her gratitude.


    What could I even say?She thought.Thank you for showing me who I could be? For teaching me how to dream?


    Her smile faltered as she peered through the window once more, her eyes drawn to the majestic palace beyond. A flicker of unease brushed against her heart, an inexplicable shadow lingering where it ought not to be. She brushed it aside.


    The palace rose majestically, its golden rooftops shimmering in the soft embrace of dawn''s first light. From where she sat, it all appeared perfectly ordinary. The world continued its endless march, just as it always had.


    She resumed her task, grasping a pencil and hovering it over the paper. Yet the words eluded her grasp. Her gratitude for the princes swelled within her, an emotion so immense it could not be contained on a mere sheet of parchment.


    Perhaps one day,she mused, as she gently folded the unfinished letter and returned it to its resting place.When I see them once more, I¡¯ll tell them everything.


    Her smile blossomed anew as she envisioned the joyous reunion, blissfully ignorant of the dark events that had transpired the night before. The palace she gazed upon with such fondness had faded from the vibrant beacon of life and laughter she once cherished.


    The palace she viewed with such admiration was no longer the beacon of life and laughter she remembered.


    The royal family was gone. The twins¡ªher friends¡ªwere gone.


    And all she had were memories of a brief, wondrous year that would never return.

 The Bear and The Tower

    <blockquote>


    ¡° Do not remain within that cage, son. A vast realm lies ahead, eager for you to finally take flight.¡±


    </blockquote>


    The stairs groaned softly, its creaks reverberating in the stillness of the apothecary.


    A middle-aged lady carefully mounted the steps. An attic was reached by a narrow wooden staircase. The polished railings sparkled under her fingertips. A small, circular window at the landing let soft light cast long shadows that danced with her every step.


    With each step, the town below faded into a whisper of bustling life. Replaced by her son''s room''s oppressive stillness. As she rose, her free hand gently caressed the coarse wooden walls. She touched the rough spots and gouges, scars from her son''s growing.


    As she approached the attic door, a moment of hesitation gripped her. Pausing for a brief moment, she lifted her hand with a touch of uncertainty. The wood stood strong, though it bore the marks of time.


    Mrs. Welton closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and then rapped softly with her knuckles, the sound a delicate, almost timid knock against the quietude.


    ¡°Eddie?¡± she whispered into the quiet, her voice barely breaking the stillness of the attic. She leaned in.. The other side lingered in their silence. Her brow knitted together, a delicate line appearing between her eyes. She cast a fleeting look at the door handle, an urge to twist it, yet she held back.


    Instead, she knocked again, this time with a deeper intent, the sound echoing more profoundly through the room beyond.


    Silence. Thick and unmoving.


    Dust swirled inside the room behind the door. Sunlight streaming through the curtain illuminates the gloom. The old attic above the busy apothecary stayed still, only disturbed by twisted floorboards and seagulls from the streets below.


    A tiny bed with tangled sheets lay against the wall beneath the sloping roof in the dimmest area of the attic. Disorganised blanket cascaded over the side, showing the weak mattress underneath. Eddie appears among the ruckus.


    He lay like a shadow under the worn blankets, shoulders hunched inward. His face was turned towards the window, absorbing the morning''s light. His pale complexion was contrasted by a few silver hairs that gently glowed in the light across his closed eyes. He looked younger, almost delicate, with shadows under his eyes, as if he could not escape his discontent even in sleep.


    The silver of his hair spilled over the pillow in disheveled waves, catching the light like threads of moonlight caught in a storm.


    A solitary knock echoes through the stillness of the room.


    Eddie moved at the sound. Groaning, he reached for the cushion next him. He covered his head to filter out the world beyond his cocoon. He struggled to close his eyes and fall asleep. His colorful, knotted hair flipped out as he cuddled beneath the covers.


    The door knocks once more.


    ¡°Go away¡­¡± he said, smothered by the pillow''s embrace.


    Mrs. Welton stayed outside, her hand hanging just above the door, almost frozen in time. Before returning to the door, she glanced down the stairs.


    She knocked again¡ªmore resolutely, as if the sound itself could unravel the silence that enveloped the room.


    ¡°Eddie?¡± She called, yet no answer.


    Mrs. Welton sighed, slipping her hand into her skirt pocket and touching her wand''s smooth wooden surface. With a slight wrist movement, the wand appeared¡ªa thin piece of dark mahogany with intricate interlocking ornaments that shimmered in the dim light.


    Mrs. Welton pointed it at the door''s lock, and a gentle click rattled the quiet attic, flickering the runes around the lock before dissolving into the shadows. She tucked her wand away and gently opened the door.


    The room was full of clutter: scattered papers, a tangle of carelessly tossed clothes, and open books in mid-thought. The chaos was illuminated by soft morning sunlight through a thin, partially open curtain, leaving the corners in shadow. The air had a hint of old parchment and ink.


    Mrs. Welton¡¯s gaze swept the room, her eyebrows lifting slightly as she took in the disarray. ¡°Of course,¡± she muttered under her breath, stepping carefully over a crumpled tunic on the floor. ¡°A tornado couldn¡¯t have done a better job.¡±


    She stared at the bulk under the covers, immovable except for Eddie''s breathing. His silver hair flowed over the pillow, glinting like stars against the faded linen.


    ¡° Edward Welton! ¡± she called, her tone sharp but laced with exasperated fondness.


    ¡°You agreed months ago to help out in the apothecary. I¡¯m not running this place alone while you spend all morning hibernating like some bear in a cave!¡± She crossed the room with purpose, the floorboards thumped under her feet.


    From under the blankets came a muffled groan, followed by Eddie¡¯s half-asleep, sarcastic retort. ¡°You could always fire me, mom. No hard feelings.¡± he muttered, his voice heavy with sleep.


    Mrs. Welton huffed, planting her hands on her hips. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t tempt me, Edward! If I had anyone else to rely on, I would!¡±


    She passed the clutter of books, clothing, and posters. She gently opened the thick curtains, warming the room unexpectedly. The warm salty sea air stroked her skin and softly swayed the tattered posters on the walls, swirling dust motes.


    The room seemed to sigh at the intrusion of light, as if it, too, had been holding its breath.


    When the illumination changed, Eddie groaningly tightened. He tried to tighten the cushion to cover the remaining sunlight, but failed. It seemed like the world had woken up too soon as the light warmed his back. With the assault of light, he sought the darkness within the cushions.


    Eddie groaned louder, pulling the blanket over his head. ¡°What are you doing? Are you trying to freeze me to death?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m trying to wake you up, you lazy sloth!¡± Mrs. Welton shot back. ¡°You¡¯ve got orders to prepare, customers to greet, and floors to sweep. And If you¡¯re not up at the tower in five minutes, I¡¯ll give you five reasons to regret it.¡±


    Mrs. Welton crossed her arms ¡°Your father could use your help at the Alchemical Tower today,¡± she announced, stepping forward with a firm but motherly tone. Her brow was arched just enough to say she wasn¡¯t about to take ¡®no¡¯ for an answer. ¡°You know how much he relies on you, especially now that he¡¯s not as spry as he once was.¡±


    Eddie groaned dramatically, burying his face deeper into the cushion as if it could shield him from the day ahead. ¡°Dad manages the apothecary just fine on his own, Mom,¡± he muttered, his voice muffled. ¡°It¡¯s just a few potions isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Mrs. Welton¡¯s eyes narrowed, and she planted her hands on her hips in a pose Eddie knew all too well. ¡° Just a few potions? ¡± she repeated, her tone sharp enough to cut through his sleepy haze. ¡°Oh, forgive me, Master Alchemist, I didn¡¯t realize concocting remedies for half the town while juggling delivery orders and inventory was just a few potions !¡±


    Eddie peeked out from beneath the cushion, his hair sticking out at odd angles. ¡°If he¡¯s so busy, maybe he should hire more help. Or better yet, why don¡¯t you fire me already?¡± he shot back with a half-smile, clearly testing her patience.


    Mrs. Welton threw her hands up. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t tempt me, Edward Welton! If I thought for a second anyone else could put up with you, I¡¯d have them sweeping the floors by now!¡± She sighed, her annoyance giving way to something softer. ¡°But your father doesn¡¯t need just anyone . He needs you . You¡¯re the only one who got a talent for this, even if you¡¯d rather spend all day dreaming under that blanket.¡±


    Eddie groaned again, though his mother¡¯s words tugged faintly at his sense of guilt. ¡°Fine, fine, I¡¯ll help. Just give me a minute¡­¡±


    Mrs. Welton softened her tone further, stepping closer to him. ¡°Besides,¡± she said, a knowing smile tugging at her lips, ¡°Your aunt Catherine will be visiting this week.¡±


    At that, Eddie¡¯s head popped up behind his cushion, his curiosity momentarily replacing his grogginess. ¡°Aunt Catherine?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, she wrote to us last month, but I suppose you wouldn¡¯t know since you¡¯ve been too busy ignoring the letters piling up on your desk,¡± Mrs. Welton replied with a pointed glance toward a cluttered corner of his room.


    ¡°Right,¡± Eddie sheepishly chuckled, but when Catherine''s name was mentioned, Eddie blinked, his half-awake mind struggling to place the name. ¡°Wait¡­ Aunt Catherine?¡± he asked, frowning slightly as he sat up. ¡°Who¡¯s that again?¡±


    Mrs. Welton froze mid-step, her hands settling on her hips in that all-too-familiar way. ¡°Oh, honestly, Ed,¡± she said, exasperation dripping from her words. ¡°How could you forget Catherine? My sister? The elf with the fiery red hair, pointy ears?¡±


    Eddie tilted his head, still drawing a blank.


    Mrs. Welton groaned dramatically, throwing her hands into the air. ¡°The one who used to take you out adventuring, of course! Dragging you into old ruins and twisted dungeons like a pint-sized treasure hunter? Ring any bells? Honestly, I don¡¯t know how I let her get away with it.¡±


    At that, Eddie¡¯s groggy mind finally clicked into place. Memories of him as a little kid, scrambling over rocks and squeezing through tight corridors with Catherine¡¯s infectious laugh guiding the way, came rushing back. ¡°Ohhh,¡± he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. ¡°You mean that Aunt Catherine. The elf lady, the one you always yelled at because we came back covered in mud or¡ªwhat was it that one time¡ªslime liquids?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t remind me,¡± Mrs. Welton said, shuddering at the memory. ¡°You two would burst through the door, filthy from head to toe, with her grinning like she¡¯d discovered Elven treasure and you trailing behind her with that same ridiculous smile. Do you know how many times I had to scrub the smell of dungeon muck out of your clothes?¡±


    Eddie chuckled softly, the sound a mix of nostalgia and amusement. ¡°To be fair, it was fun at the time, mom. She made it feel like we were real adventurers. She even taught me alchemy while we were out there.¡±


    Mrs. Welton¡¯s tone softened, though her expression still held a trace of scolding. ¡°I remember. You¡¯d come back babbling about her experiments and little alchemical tricks, and I¡¯d have to remind you that not every shiny stone is a magical artifact. But she did spark something in you, didn¡¯t she?¡±


    Eddie hesitated, the memories pulling at him like faint whispers from another time. Catherine¡¯s bravery, her laughter echoing through wet, ancient hallways, her boundless enthusiasm¡ªit had been infectious. But those times felt so distant now. ¡°That was a long time ago, Mom.¡±


    ¡°It was,¡± Mrs. Welton agreed, her voice quieter now, her gaze growing softer. ¡°But I have a feeling Catherine still has a few adventures up her sleeve. Who knows what she¡¯s planned this time?¡±


    Eddie at last raised his gaze to meet hers, casting aside the pillow that had shielded his face for what felt like an eternity. Her words ignited curiosity within him.


    The mother and son were separated by silence. Isn''t it easier to stay in my quiet room? Eddie thoughts, but despite of it, he couldn''t ignore the subtle remorse, a faint echo of duties, and his mother''s growing anxiety.


    ¡°Alright, then,¡± he finally admitted, the word escaping him as if it were a hesitant capitulation. ¡°I¡¯ll get up. Just... give me a moment.¡±


    ¡°Take your time, but not too long,¡± she said, her smile gentle and warm, a flicker of hope shining brightly in her eyes. ¡°Your father is relying on you.¡±


    With that, she pivoted gracefully and made her way back to the door. The soft sea breeze flows around her. Eddie lay there, his gaze fixed upon the ceiling.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Pleasant breeze from the open window carried the apothecary''s scent of herbs, swaying the curtains. The rough wooden boards were coated golden by window light. A faint sigh from the bed reminded him of the responsibilities ahead, so he got up.


    With a gentle shove, he cast the blankets aside and let his legs dangle over the side of the bed, the coarse wooden floor sending a shiver through his feet.


    Eddie stood up, his slim frame trembling slightly as he adjusted his posture. The mirror at the corner of the room revealed a boy he didn¡¯t recognise. He swiped a hand through his silver hair to tame it, but it simply fluffed up even more.


    He then stepped towards the door, the well-known creak of the floorboards creaks beneath him. The sounds of the town below reached his ears, a lively echo of existence carrying on in his absence.


    -o-


    The attic door creaked quietly as Eddie left, like if unwilling to go. He walked across the narrow passageway the floorboards creaks underneath as he walked. As if sighing, the Welton Household hall filled him with warm light and the earthy smell of dirt. Sunlight from tall, mullioned windows cast a shadowy mosaic on the raw wooden planks.


    The passageway was filled with the aroma of dried lavender and rosemary and a faint metallic scent from the tower above. In alchemical experiments, his father produced extracts and lost himself in his studies.


    With a soft sigh, Eddie reached for his jacket, the brown wool warm and coarse against his skin, and turned to face the spiral staircase that curled upward like a tempting vine.


    Eddie paused and peered at the rune etched on the floor near the stairwell, its aqua glow beckoning. The rune, made by his elder brother Alfred, made the thousand-step ascent feel like a mere ten. Eddie was burdened by the prospect of wielding magic, something he had grudgingly abandoned. Instead, he prepared for the grueling climb.


    He inhaled and stepped up the first step of the stairs, echoing his footsteps through the tower''s stone walls. As he climbed, the polished wood creaked gently. He walked with resolve, his legs burning with effort and his breath quickening in the silence.


    He felt the ascend to extend forever, a struggle that reflected the miles ahead. Eddie continued up the tower while the floorboards groaned and the wind moaned through his side windows.


    -o-


    Eddie finally reached the top of the tower, his lungs burning and breath hitching in quick, ragged bursts as he crossed the threshold into the alchemist¡¯s lab on top of the tower.


    Soft light from the open window cast amusing shadows on the craggy stone walls. He was surrounded by the odours of crushed plants and boiling concoctions and the saline air from big windows with delicate wooden beams. This vantage position revealed the Hamlet of Weshaven, a seaside hamlet full with merchants and fishermen ready for their voyages.


    ¡°Hey there, Eddie!¡± Mr. Welton said, looking up from his meticulous work with a casual air.


    Mr. Welton looked up from his desk, relaxed. Ageing grey hair fell in wild curls over his face, giving him a quirky genius look. On his nasal bridge, round glasses framed his bright blue eyes that gleamed with warmth and mischief. He looked like someone who had spent his life studying and working, wearing a basic collared shirt with rolled sleeves. Despite his age, his slender frame was nimble.


    ¡°How is it possible for a young guy like you to be panting like you just ran a marathon, hmm? I meanwhile, just an old man in my seventies, breezing up and down these stairs like it''s no big deal!"


    Eddie rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he shot back,


    ¡°You¡¯re totally cheating, Dad! You totally used that illusion rune Alfred whipped up to bypass all those stairs!¡±


    ¡°Touch¨¦!¡± His booming, contagious laughter filled the room and rattled the jars on their shelves. ¡°But it¡¯s all for the sake of speed, and efficiency!¡±


    ¡°Right, what¡¯s on the agenda today, Dad?¡± he asked, eyeing the neatly organised notes that laid out the day¡¯s missions.


    ¡°Alright, we will need to get these raw materials processed,¡± Mr. Welton said, slipping on a pair of protective goggles as he approached the array of ingredients strewn across the workbench. ¡°We¡¯ve got to get them ready for brewing in the apothecary. Your mom''s a bit understaffed today, and I could really use another set of hands around here.¡±


    Eddie nodded, shaking off his lengthy sleep''s fog. He joined his dad and used a wicked-looking knife to slice through the twisted roots. The boiling concoctions, clinking glass devices, and scent of plants and chemicals comforted him as he worked.


    Lab was busy. On another table, glass jars bubbled and steamed, their twisting tubes blazing like ancient monster veins in the faint light. Some bubbled with vibrant hues, while others lay in little glass vials with ethereal light. Eddie saw jars of dried dragon''s blood, sparkling scales from mythological fish, and powdered gems on the walls and recalled his childhood ambitions of becoming a famous alchemist, which he had long abandoned.


    -o-


    As Eddie and Mr. Welton toiled together, the harmonious symphony of slicing and grinding resonated through the lab, mingling with the bubbling and hissing of potions brewing in their cauldrons.


    ¡°You know, Eddie,¡± Mr. Welton began, his hands steady as he measured out a vibrant powder, ¡°You¡¯re almost twenty now. Time zips by quicker than the potions I whip up in my cauldron.¡±


    Eddie took a moment, his eyes drifting from the herbs he was chopping to the lab around him. ¡°Sure, I suppose so. It seems like it was only yesterday that I was just a kid,"


    ¡°So,¡± Mr. Welton started, casting a sideways glance at his son, ¡°Have you thought about the Sage¡¯s Scholarship program yet?¡±


    Eddie froze, the knife suspended in the air in a moment of suspense, poised above the root he was about to slice.


    ¡°Not really,¡± he said, giving a casual shrug. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m cut out for something like that.¡± It¡¯s been tough to think about anything beyond today.¡±


    His dad nodded, a look of deep contemplation crossing his features.


    ¡°It¡¯s not merely a matter of age, son. Your potential is off the charts! If you don¡¯t seize the moment during these years, you could end up letting amazing chances slip right through your fingers.¡±


    ¡°Once you hit twenty-five, the door to the Sage¡¯s Scholarship program swings shut. You can no longer apply to one, think about it.¡±


    ¡°I get it, Dad. But I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hey, listen up,¡± Mr. Welton chimed in, his tone a mix of authority and warmth. ¡°Your aunt Catherine is going to be pretty bummed if you don¡¯t go for it. From the very beginning, she¡¯s had your back, even when you doubted yourself. Imagine the incredible things you could accomplish.¡±


    Eddie, hit by a sudden rush of memories, stopped his chopping and glanced up at his dad.


    ¡°Oh, Mom mentioned about Catherine swinging by this week,¡± Eddie said, a spark of curiosity cutting through his usual indifference. ¡°It¡¯s been ages since Catherine crossed my mind. So, how¡¯s she holding up?¡±


    ¡°Ah, Catherine.¡± Mr. Welton grinned, a spark of nostalgia dancing in his eyes, ¡°Your aunt is a real piece of work! She¡¯s a pretty impressive Alchemist all on her own. It¡¯s amazing how much alchemical talent flows through the family, particularly with that Elven heritage of hers.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, remember her being amazing at that,¡± Eddie said, his mind wandering as he chopped the herbs with a casual flick of his wrist. ¡°But I totally blanked on how much time has passed since we last met.¡±


    ¡°Ah, those were the days,¡± Mr. Welton remarked, a touch of nostalgia colouring his words. ¡°Hey, remember when Catherine used to drag you off on wild adventures through dungeons and ancient ruins? You were always so curious and had a fearless back in those days.¡±


    Eddie chuckled, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he recalled those thrilling escapades with his aunt, sneaking into shadowy nooks where every moment was bursting with joy and wonder.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe I ever had the energy to scramble up into those ancient ruins. What was I even thinking?¡±


    ¡°You were young, bursting with curiosity,¡± Mr. Welton said, a proud grin spreading across his face. ¡°And it wasn¡¯t just that; you were soaking up the wisdom from the greatest. Catherine was my Master before she set off on her own epic adventure. She taught me much of what I know today.¡±


    ¡°Hold on, you were her apprentice?¡± Eddie enquired, arching an eyebrow in curiosity. ¡°You?¡± The legendary Mr. Welton?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely!¡± Mr. Welton laughed  ¡°Before I became the legendary Mr. Welton,¡± his father continued, waving his hand as if brushing away a pesky fly. ¡°I was just a kid, and Catherine was already stirring up quite the storm in the alchemical world. It¡¯s incredible to consider just how gifted she truly is.¡±


    Eddie felt a twist in his gut, a sharp reminder of how much he craved those wild connections and epic adventures. ¡°I totally need to get in touch with her, write a letter or something.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely,¡± his dad cheered on. ¡°Catherine would totally be stoked to hear from you. She¡¯s always seen the greatness in you, even when you couldn¡¯t see it yourself.¡±


    -o-


    Eddie took a step back from the solid workbench, swiping the back of his hand across his forehead to clear the sweat. With a flourish, he stuffed the final ingredients into robust wooden crates, ready for their journey down to the bustling apothecary below. He paused for a second, taking in the impressive organisation he had pulled off, a wave of pride swelling within him


    ¡°Okay, Dad, I¡¯m heading down,¡± he shouted, striding towards the door that opened to the twisting staircase. The doorframe creaked like it was just as eager to escape as he was.


    But just as he was about to swing the door open, Mr. Welton¡¯s voice stopped him in his tracks. ¡°Eddie, hold up for a second. could you hang around for just a little while longer? I''ve got one more favour to ask of you."


    Eddie spun around, his curiosity ignited like a spark in a dark room. ¡°Another favor?¡± What is it?¡±


    Mr. Welton propped himself against the workbench, the morning light streaming in and painting warm shadows across his face.


    ¡°So, there¡¯s this thing that popped up in my head, and I could really use your help with it.¡±


    ¡°What sort of thing are we talking about here?¡± Eddie asked, a twist of anxiety churning in his gut.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing too complicated, I swear,¡± his dad said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, but it didn¡¯t do much to ease Eddie¡¯s nerves. ¡°Just a little tidbit I think you¡¯ll find interesting.¡±


    Eddie crossed his arms, caution dancing in his eyes. ¡°Does it have anything to do with¡­ magic?¡±


    His dad let out a low chuckle, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes.


    ¡°Sort of. Hang on just a bit more; I have a feeling you¡¯re going to enjoy this.¡±


    Mr. Welton¡¯s smile dimmed just a touch as he bent down beneath the workbench, retrieving a small, intricately designed cage. Within the confines of the cage itself, a lovely songbird flitted about, its radiant feathers shimmering in the soft glow of the light.


    ¡°Eddie, I need your help with something important,¡± he said, gently stroking the cage like it was the most precious thing in the world.


    Eddie''s brow knitted together in a mix of bewilderment and curiosity. ¡°What¡¯s this about?¡±


    ¡°Let this songbird go free,¡± Mr. Welton said, his voice a mix of kindness and authority. ¡°It¡¯s time for it to spread its wings and soar.¡±


    Eddie paused, a surge of protectiveness washing over him for the tiny creature.


    ¡°But¡­ it¡¯s a songbird.¡± It could totally go missing or end up in a bit of trouble.¡±


    ¡°Songbirds are meant to sing and soar, not be caged,¡± his father said, the warmth in his voice clashing with the unease bubbling up inside Eddie. ¡°Seriously, just let it slide.¡±


    With a heavy sigh, Eddie stepped forward, gently accepting the cage from his father''s grasp. As he opened the cage¡¯s door, the songbird paused for a heartbeat, then erupted into the air, its wings a flurry of motion as it ascended into the vastness of the sky, a vibrant splash of colour against the endless blue. Eddie observed its departure, a bittersweet sensation unfurling within his heart.


    ¡°And just like that, she is free,¡± Mr. Welton declared, a spark of triumph dancing in his gaze.


    Eddie spun around to face his dad, the heavy cloak of uncertainty still draped over his shoulders.


    ¡°Alright, but what¡¯s the deal with that?¡±


    Mr. Welton''s face transformed into a mask of mischievous gravity.


    ¡°Alright, I''ve got another task for you.¡±


    Mr. Welton then went on digging under the workbench again, he found a bigger, more elaborate cage. The morning light illuminated a gorgeous Fire Falcon in its cage, its plumage shimmering like liquid gold. The bird''s ferocious glance fell on Eddie, and he suddenly saw its magnificent majesty.


    ¡°Let this one go, too,¡± Mr. Welton said, his voice playful.


    Eddie''s eyes went as wide as saucers. ¡°You want me to release the Fire Falcon?¡± But it¡¯s worth a fortune! You can¡¯t just let it go!"


    Mr. Welton leaned in closer, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. ¡°How about I wager you a hundred gold coins?¡±


    ¡°A hundred gold coins?¡± Eddie found himself caught in a whirlwind of temptation, the thrill of the wager tugging at him while his instincts screamed to safeguard the awe-inspiring beast before him. ¡°But it¡¯s a Fire Falcon!¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Mr. Welton said, a grin spreading across his face like he¡¯d just uncovered a hidden treasure. ¡°This isn¡¯t merely about the wager; it¡¯s about daring to leap into the unknown.¡± Consider it a crash course in bravery.¡±


    Eddie paused, a storm of thoughts battling it out in his mind. ¡°But what if it just doesn¡¯t return?¡±


    ¡°Well, I guess that¡¯s how the universe works,¡± Mr. Welton said, his eyes unwavering. ¡°Sometimes, you¡¯ve got to release your grip to discover what treasures await you.¡±


    Eddie let out a reluctant sigh, his head bobbing in agreement as he fought to push down the knot of apprehension twisting in his stomach. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll do it.¡±


    As he drew near the cage, Eddie inhaled deeply, his heart pounds. He opened the cage¡¯s door and with a gentle push, urged the Fire Falcon onwards, anticipating its swift ascent into the sky.


    Yet, to his astonishment, the falcon stayed resolutely perched within the confines of the cage, its golden eyes locked onto him, as though contemplating the choices before it.


    ¡°Come on!¡± Eddie urged, his heart racing like a runaway chariot on a quest. ¡°You¡¯re meant to soar off into the sky!¡±


    But the Fire Falcon just cocked its head to the side, refusing to budge. Eddie felt a heavy weight settle in his stomach as the truth dawned on him. ¡°No way¡­ this is not happening.¡±


    Mr. Welton let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. ¡°Well, well, well, it seems I¡¯ve come out on top, son.¡±


    Eddie was hit by a wave of disappointment, swirling with anger and confusion like a storm brewing in his chest. ¡°Why not?¡± Why didn¡¯t it just take off into the sky?


    Mr. Welton''s expression turned warm as he moved in closer. ¡°Sometimes, Eddie, just like that falcon, we get a little too cosy in our cages. We hesitate to take that leap, even when the chance to escape is staring us in the face.¡±


    Eddie lingered, the disappointment brushing against him like a cool breeze, as he reached for the meticulously arranged ingredients resting on the workbench. The vivid hues of the herbs and raw materials drew his gaze, yet his thoughts wandered, circling back to that moment when the Fire Falcon had stubbornly remained in its cage.


    ¡°Thanks for the lesson, Dad,¡± he said, managing a tight smile as he turned to face his father.


    He sensed the words dripped with sweetness, yet beneath the surface, frustration bubbled like a volcano ready to erupt. He wasn¡¯t looking for some fancy metaphor about comfort zones and soaring through the skies¡ªhe just needed to find his own way forward.


    As he approached the door, Eddie wore a mask of calm, resolute in his mission to keep the irritation simmering just below the surface a secret. ¡°I¡¯ll just take these to the Apothecary,¡± he said, trying to keep his voice cheerful, even though a storm of irritation brewed inside him. ¡°Appreciate the, um, ¡®lesson¡¯.¡±


    Mr. Welton observed his son''s silhouette,worry reflected in his eyes. He could perceive the strain in Eddie¡¯s shoulders, the manner in which his jaw clenched tightly. ¡°Eddie,¡± he called after him, but the young man had already vanished through the door, descending the twisting staircase that spiralled down from the tower.


    The lab door creaked shut behind Eddie as Mr. Welton leaned against the workbench, arms folded, watching his boy descend the stairs. His quiet sigh blended with the rich, aromatic alchemical concoctions around him.


    ¡°Ah, Edward,¡± he murmured to himself, shaking his head slightly. ¡°If only you could see what I see.¡±


    Mr. Welton felt a deep ache in his chest, aware that Eddie was ensnared in a tangle of fear and reluctance. His heart ached for his son, longing to share the wisdom he had known through the years. He grasped, with a profound clarity, the anxieties that tethered souls to the ground, preventing them from taking flight.


    ¡°At times, one must allow them to navigate their own path,¡± he murmured, observing the final sight of Eddie as he faded from sight.


    ¡°Do not remain in that cage, son,¡± he breathed softly, his voice a mere flutter in the air. ¡°A vast realm lies ahead, eager for you to take flight.¡±

 The Cages of Herbs and Vials

    The floorboards groaned beneath Eddie''s feet as he made his way down the twisting staircase. Wooden trays filled with potion extracts sat snugly under his hand. The narrow spiral felt like it was plunging into the depths of the abyss, endless, each twist echoing the chaotic thoughts racing through his mind.


    ¡°Old man and his riddles,¡± he muttered, the annoyance simmering below the surface. ¡°Why can¡¯t he just say what he means for once?¡±


    He clenched the rail, trying to wring out his frustration like it was a stubborn drop of water refusing to let go.


    ¡°Alchemists and their obsession with fables and metaphors,¡± he continued, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. ¡°It¡¯s like every little thing is tangled up in a wild, twisty tale. What¡¯s up with ¡®the falcon that wouldn¡¯t fly¡¯ or ¡®the fire that wouldn¡¯t burn¡¯? Seriously, what does any of that even mean?¡± He could practically see his dad¡¯s teasing grin at his annoyance, which only cranked up his irritation even more.


    Eddie thought all that fancy jargon was making things too confusing. Alchemists are quirky. Even inside the magical community, choosing riddles and analogies that only they understood. It made alchemy one of the toughest magical disciplines to learn. The spells couldn''t be done from a book. Years of training, insight, and, most frustratingly, a thorough comprehension of complex ideas were needed.


    ¡°Just spill the beans on what I need to do, for gods sake,¡± Eddie muttered, shaking his head in exasperation. ¡°Seriously, is it that difficult?¡±


    Reached the middle landing. Eddie saw Weshaven''s cobblestone streets from the circular window. The townspeople went about their daily routines, little figures hurrying to and fro, blissfully unaware of the possible philosophical conversations taking place in the alchemical tower''s lofty confines.


    ¡°If deciphering allegories is the secret to being a good alchemist,¡± Eddie remarked with a wry grin, ¡°Then I¡¯d say I¡¯m much better off just sorting herbs and sorting vials.¡±


    The twisting staircase at last opened up to the dimly lit lower chamber of the apothecary. A comforting, rich aroma of herbs mingled with the sharpness of metal enveloped him, pulling him firmly back into the realm of the tangible.


    ¡°Forget the Fire Falcon,¡± he grumbled under his breath. ¡°I¡¯d much prefer to stay grounded, thank you very much.¡±


    -o-


    Eddie entered the Brewing Room. His eyes squinting, needing a moment to acclimatise to the soft glow that seeped through the lofty windows, casting gentle shadows in the room. The warm scent of crushed herbs and brewing potions enveloped him, while the soothing sounds of bubbling cauldrons and the gentle clink of glass danced in his ears.


    ¡°Morning, Edward!¡± boomed a voice from the far end of the room, echoing with the kind of enthusiasm that could wake the dead.


    Markus Fletcher, a broad-shouldered boy with wild chestnut hair, crouched over his messy desk. His huge, calloused, and surprisingly skilled hands stirred a boiling mixture that exhaled a delicate, rose vapor between vials and jars. With his sleeves pulled up, his sinewy arms showed signs of hard labor, making him appear more like a fisherman than a potion maker. His hand was soft as a whisper, treating each component like the most valuable gem in the world despite his tough look.


    ¡°Finally decided to join the land of the living, huh?¡± Markus teased, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to vibrate through the room.


    ¡°Morning, Markus.¡± Eddie offered a half-smile. ¡°You¡¯re here early.¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t sleep,¡± Markus shrugged. ¡°Thought I''d get in early on today''s orders. Since I had a pot of muscle-repair remedies cooking, I decided to explore! How about some agility or reflex remedies?¡± He smiled at Eddie. ¡°Make those sailors move like half their age, you know?¡±


    Eddie looked curiously at Markus''s messy workstation''s many jars and vials. Tiny bones, twisted roots, and what looked to be an elusive bird''s sparkling feather mixed with Markus''s jumbled handwriting on the parchments. The air surrounding him was full with deliberate chaos. It resembles the man''s unconventional yet efficient methods.


    ¡°Eddie, you¡¯re late.¡± A calm, measured voice interrupted them.


    Eddie looked right to see Lydia Grey at her neatly organized desk, a beacon of order among the mayhem. Lydia organized her work station with near-obsessive perfection. In perfect order, ingredients had labels in a neat, flowing style, vials and jars held the proper quantity of crushed herbs or powdered minerals, arranged by category and color. The polished tools on the table shone everywhere.


    Lydia exuded the aura of serene confidence. Her tall, slim physique and black hair in a ponytail emanated an aura of a person that is hard to disrupt. With a steady gaze, her icy brown eyes examined Eddie. She was patient and never sugarcoated anything, but her voice was stern today. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°What took you so long?¡± she asked, raising an eyebrow as she pivoted back to her bubbling cauldron. ¡°I could have really used that dried dragon blood half an hour ago!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, my bad,¡± Eddie said, lifting the tiny, stuffed case he had dragged down from the tower. ¡°I was gathering the ingredients up at the alchemical tower, and Dad¡­ well, you know how he gets.¡±


    ¡°Ah, another one of Mr. Welton¡¯s lectures?¡± Lydia¡¯s lips curved into a faint smile, though her eyes remained focused on her work. ¡°Let me guess¡ªsomething about the transformative nature of life, using birds as a metaphor for the evolution of magical principles?¡±


    ¡°You could say that.¡± Eddie let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head as if the universe had just thrown him a particularly annoying curveball. ¡°There are moments when I wonder if he¡¯s on a plot to cram as many twisted metaphors as possible into my brain.¡±


    ¡°Or maybe he¡¯s just trying to get you to think,¡± Lydia said. Carefully pouring just the right amount of dried dragon blood into her cauldron. ¡°He¡¯s always had a knack for pushing people to look past the surface.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but there¡¯s pushing, and then there¡¯s pushing ,¡± Eddie grumbled, though with little heat.


    ¡°Hold on, hold on¡­ What kind of lecture are we talking about here?¡± Markus asked. ¡°So, did you botch the process again, or did something blow up this time?¡±


    Eddie let out a dramatic sigh, his hand finding its way to the back of his neck as if trying to massage away the weight away. ¡°That¡¯s not how it goes, Markus.¡±


    ¡°I was just wrapping up some extracts upstairs when he launched into a speech about freedom and potential, and, well¡­¡±


    Eddie paused. A swirl of annoyance and disbelief bubbled up inside him as he remembered the events that had just unfolded. ¡°Dad just went and set free one of the rare blue songbirds I¡¯d been helping him look after since I was a kid. It flew straight out the window!¡±


    ¡°Wait, freed?¡± Markus''s eyes went as wide as saucers. ¡°Are you talking about the Blue Eshari Songbird?¡± The one we''ve been plucking feathers from for what feels like ages?¡± He shook his head, a low whistle escaping his lips. ¡°That bird¡¯s got a price tag that could make the mayor himself jealous, Ed. What did he just say?¡±


    ¡°Yup, that¡¯s precisely what I was thinking,¡± Eddie grumbled under his breath. ¡°I asked him why he let it go, and he said something like¡± Eddie then started to mimic his father¡¯s rough yet airy voice, ¡°¡®Sometimes, Eddie, just like that falcon, we get a little too comfy in our cages.¡¯ Whatever that means.¡±


    Markus shook his head, a thoughtful scratch at his chin revealing the gears turning in his mind. ¡°Still, that bird was totally worth a fortune. And the Weltons¡ªno offense¡ªaren¡¯t exactly swimming in treasure these days.¡±


    Eddie nodded, a familiar pang of frustration bubbling up inside him. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the thing. We¡¯re famous for being the go-to place for the best source of medicine in Weshaven, but with all the bills piling up and debts looming over us¡­ let¡¯s just say we¡¯re not exactly rolling in it like everyone assumes.¡±


    Lydia, immersed in her potion-making, didn¡¯t even glance up as she spoke, her brow furrowed in concentration. ¡°Eddie, I think you¡¯re missing the point of your dad¡¯s gesture,¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the point then?¡± Eddie asked, turning to face her with a faint frown. ¡°He just watched something precious slip right through his fingers. What are we supposed to gain from that, besides diving deeper into financial troubles?¡±


    Lydia¡¯s gaze held firm as she locked eyes with him.


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s not just about the money, Edward. Your dad has always been more invested in people¡ª in life and growth¡ªthan in chasing after profits. That bird was more than just a tool in his arsenal. It was a creature that breathed and moved, full of life and mystery.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± Eddie shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. He shot a look at Markus, half-hoping for a witty comeback, but surprisingly, Markus was silent, a contemplative expression settling on his features.


    ¡°So, what do you think I should do?¡± Eddie asked, tilting his head slightly. ¡°Should I just free everything else that¡¯s not making us money and hope it all works out?¡±


    ¡°No, Edward.¡± Lydia¡¯s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. ¡°You¡¯re young. Go outside, experience the world, and stop rotting away in your bedroom.¡±


    Lydia¡¯s eyes softened, ¡°Though, It¡¯s a suggestion.¡± There was a touch of concern in her voice now. ¡°Markus and I aren¡¯t that much older than you, you know? But we¡¯re out here every day, trying to figure things out. You¡¯re not giving yourself the chance to see what you¡¯re capable of. What you really want.¡±


    The sliding window connecting the Brewing Room to the storefront swung open, revealing Mrs. Welton¡¯s cheerful face. She glanced around the room with a knowing smile, her gaze lingering on Eddie before turning to Markus and Lydia.


    ¡°Am I interrupting something?¡± she asked, raising an eyebrow, though her tone was light and teasing.


    ¡°No, Mrs. Welton,¡± Markus said with a sheepish grin. ¡°Just giving Eddie a bit of advice.¡±


    ¡°Ah, well, there will be plenty of time for that later.¡± Mrs. Welton¡¯s smile brightened as she held up a small parchment list. ¡°We¡¯ve got a new batch of orders from the harbour. A few of the captains are requesting remedies for seasickness and muscle fatigue.¡±


    ¡°Already?¡± Lydia glanced at the clock on the far wall, surprise flickering across her face. ¡°They¡¯re earlier than usual.¡±


    ¡°Yes, seems like there are some big cargo shipments coming in this afternoon,¡± Mrs. Welton replied. ¡°So let¡¯s get started, shall we?¡±


    Eddie exchanged a quick look with Lydia and Markus before nodding. ¡°Sure thing. I¡¯ll get the extracts ready.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯ll handle the preparation for the sea sickness remedies,¡± Lydia added, rolling up her sleeves and turning back to her workstation with renewed focus.


    ¡°Which leaves me with the muscle fatigue potions,¡± Markus said, cracking his knuckles and grinning. ¡°I¡¯ve got a few ideas I¡¯ve been wanting to try.¡±


    Mrs. Welton¡¯s eyes narrowed playfully. ¡°Make sure you follow the guidelines this time, Markus. We don¡¯t want another ¡®incident¡¯ like last month.¡±


    Markus held up his hands in mock innocence. ¡°No worries, Mrs. Welton. I¡¯ll keep it strictly by the book.¡±


    Mrs. Welton nodded and left the window, leaving the three to work with a quiet giggle. Eddie breathed deeply, sensing the apothecary''s cadence. Despite the confusion, uncertainty, and residual bitterness, being here with Lydia and Markus, surrounded by potion producing noises and scents,


    It was comfortable.


    For now, at least, it felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

 The Swordfish Pub

    <blockquote>


    ¡°Then you have to choose to move with it. Lydia and I might be content working here, but we don¡¯t have the same potential you do. Don¡¯t let that go to waste. There¡¯s a whole world out there waiting for you, and it¡¯s not just about Weshaven. It¡¯s about becoming who you¡¯re meant to be.¡±


    </blockquote>


    The bell above the apothecary door jingled as Eddie flipped the sign to Closed. The scent of dried herbs and tinctures still lingered in his nose, even as he stepped into the salty air of Weshaven¡¯s harbour.


    ¡°Finally,¡± Markus grumbled, stretching his arms like a cat that had just woken up from a nap, as he strolled along. ¡°I thought old Madam Cray was never going to stop asking about her arthritis salve.¡±


    Eddie smirked. ¡°You¡¯re the one who told her it¡¯d work in two days. Now she¡¯s counting the hours.¡±


    Markus groaned but laughed as they walked along the cobblestones. Weshaven''s harbour extended ahead. The sea becomes a shade of orange and purple as daylight fades. Wooden piers creaked as fisherman unloaded their late-day catch. There was a strong smell of brine and gutted fish.


    ¡°Oi, Edward! Markus!¡± A grizzled fisherman with a thick grey beard raised a hand in greeting, his patched coat flapping in the breeze. ¡°That balm you sold me last week did wonders. My shoulder¡¯s good as new!¡±


    ¡°Glad to hear it, Norrick,¡± Eddie called back, offering a polite nod.


    ¡°Keep it up, lads! Don¡¯t let Weshaven fall apart without ye!¡± Norrick bellowed with a hearty laugh.


    The Swordfish Pub came into view, its wooden sign swaying gently, intricately carved to resemble the very creature it was named after. The soft, golden glow that poured from its windows offered a comforting reprieve from the encroaching chill of the evening air. The sound of laughter and the gentle clink of mugs floated into the air as a kind soul held the door ajar for a departing patron.


    ¡°Come on,¡± Markus said, his grin widening. ¡°Let¡¯s grab a spot before it¡¯s packed to the brim.¡±


    The instant Eddie pushed open the creaky wooden door, bustle of chatter boomed at him. The air buzzed with the heady mix of salt, fish stew, and ale, each scent vying for attention like eager campers at a summer campfire. The faint smell of seawater clung to the fishermen¡¯s clothes like a stubborn memory, refusing to let go.


    The pub buzzed with boisterous laughter, booming voices trading stories of the day¡¯s haul. Heavy boots scraped against the floorboards, the sound echoing like a warning bell as chairs were pushed back with a clatter. Tankards thudded against the tables, echoing like a battle cry in the midst of a lively gathering. Eddie and Markus pushed, their eyes darting around the bustling room, navigating through the chaos that surrounded them.


    ¡°Looks packed tonight,¡± Eddie muttered, sidestepping a hefty man who gestured wildly in the midst of an animated chat.


    ¡°Packed means the fishermen had a good haul,¡± Markus replied, his eyes already scanning for the bartender.


    The fishermen had the kind of rugged appearance that suggested they could wrestle a kraken and still have time for a beer. Faces etched by the relentless ocean breeze and blazing sun, hands toughened from countless days of pulling in nets. Their laughter echoed like thunder, and their gestures were as grand as a hero''s tale. Eddie felt like a fish out of water in his corduroy trousers and wool field jacket, as if he had accidentally wandered into the wrong story altogether. His wild silver hair practically shouted for attention amidst the sea of darker shades in the room.


    ¡°Pardon us,¡± Markus said with a grin as they navigated the labyrinth of chairs and tables. He sidestepped a fisherman animatedly bragging about the time a shark had ¡°almost taken his arm off.¡±


    As they passed, a few familiar faces nodded their way.


    At long last, they stumbled into the bar, where the barman awaited with a knowing grin. A burly fellow sporting a bushy moustache and a towel draped casually over his shoulder was busy pouring a foamy pint of ale. His keen gaze darted in their direction.


    ¡°Evenin¡¯ Edward. Markus. You¡¯re late tonight,¡± the bartender said, setting the tankard down in front of a waiting patron.


    ¡°Blame Madam Cray,¡± Markus said, leaning on the counter. ¡°She had questions. Lots of them.¡±


    The bartender chuckled. ¡°You can¡¯t blame ¡®er, sonny. She had it rough. What¡¯ll it be tonight?¡±


    ¡°Venison stew and a cider for me,¡± Eddie said.


    ¡°Make that two stews and a beer,¡± Markus added.


    The bartender gave a nod, already reaching for a couple of mugs. Markus turned to Eddie, clapping him on the shoulder. ¡°Not a bad way to end a day, eh?¡±


    Eddie allowed himself a small smile, the warmth of the pub and the familiarity of the moment slowly easing the weight he carried.


    Eddie stirred his fish stew with a distracted air, the wooden spoon clattering against the ceramic bowl like it was trying to escape the chaos of his thoughts. He barely grazed the meal, the inviting scent of herbs and fresh fish failing to ignite any hunger within him. Across from him, Markus was halfway through his second beer, lounging in his chair like someone who had no burdens to carry.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    ¡°Alright, out with it,¡± Markus said finally, setting his mug down with a soft thud. ¡°You¡¯ve been poking at that stew for ten minutes like it wronged you. What¡¯s on your mind?¡±


    Eddie shook his head lightly, offering a dismissive shrug. ¡°It¡¯s nothing. Just... tired, I guess.¡± He stirred his stew again, still avoiding Markus¡¯s gaze.


    Markus wasn¡¯t having it. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. ¡°Come on, Eddie. I know you. When you¡¯re tired, you devour food like it¡¯s your last meal!¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Eddie sighed, finally giving in. He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze dropping to the amber liquid swirling in his cider. ¡°It¡¯s about the bird again,¡± he grumbled, his voice almost lost in the raucous din of the pub.


    Markus nodded, leaning back in his chair, his expression calm but curious. ¡°The Blue Songbird, right? I thought you said your dad let it go this morning. What¡¯s eating at you now?¡±


    Eddie continued. ¡°Look, It¡¯s not just that he let it go. It¡¯s how he did it¡ªlike it was no big deal. That bird meant everything to him, Markus. He spent years raising it, making sure it could fly perfectly, singing those damn songs that he loved so much. And then, out of nowhere, he just decides it¡¯s time for it to be free?¡±


    Markus scratched the back of his head, his brow furrowing in thought. ¡°Well, you know your dad. He¡¯s always got some... unconventional ideas about life.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s putting it lightly.¡± Eddie continued. ¡°What do you think he is trying to say, Markus?¡±


    Markus straightened, eating a spoonful of his fish stew. He turned to face Eddie, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. ¡°I think I might have an idea, but don¡¯t quote me on it,¡± he said with a thoughtful expression.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Markus said, leaning closer, ¡°It¡¯s his way of telling you that you need to get out of your comfort zone.¡±


    Eddie furrowed his brow. ¡°Get out of my comfort zone?¡± He let out a dry laugh. ¡°I did that already, didn¡¯t I? I¡¯m there at the store, aren¡¯t I? In the brewing room? If I hadn¡¯t, I¡¯d still be upstairs in my room.¡±


    Markus raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re here, but¡­¡± He gestured vaguely around the pub. ¡°Are you really here, Ed? I mean, physically, you¡¯re down at the store helping out. But mentally? Emotionally? You¡¯re still up there in your room, hiding away. Your dad¡¯s probably just trying to nudge you out into the world again.¡±


    Eddie sighed, leaning against the table and folding his arms. ¡°But I am doing things, Markus. I¡¯m working in the shop, helping out with potions and ingredients, talking to people like I¡¯m supposed to. What more am I supposed to do?¡±


    Markus shrugged, a small smile forming on his lips. ¡°I don¡¯t know, man. But your dad¡¯s never been one to settle for half-measures, you know? It¡¯s like Lydia said earlier¡ªhe¡¯s more interested in what you¡¯re becoming than in what you¡¯re doing right now. Maybe he sees something in you that you¡¯re not seeing yet.¡±


    Eddie was silent for a moment, his fingers tracing the worn grain of the wooden counter. Behind the bar, rows of gleaming bottles stood neatly stacked, their amber and emerald hues catching the dim light of the pub. The words echoed in his mind: What you¡¯re becoming. He didn¡¯t know if he even wanted to become anything anymore.


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re here with us,¡± Markus said, breaking the silence, ¡°But I think he wants you to push yourself. He sees something in you. Among the three of us, you¡¯ve got the talent to measure up to Mr Welton¡¯s standards.¡±


    Eddie raised an eyebrow, surprised by the unexpected compliment. ¡°What do you mean? My brother Alfred can brew potions like it¡¯s second nature. He¡¯s older and way more experienced.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Markus said, his tone earnest. ¡°But Mr. Welton doesn¡¯t even allow your brother Alfred to work on his personal workstation.¡± You are. And yet you¡¯re here, learning at his side. That says something.¡±


    Eddie shifted uncomfortably, the weight of Markus¡¯s words settling in. ¡°But I only got this chance because I¡¯m his son, you know?¡± he insisted, trying to deflect the praise. ¡°That¡¯s all there is to it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I mean, Ed.¡± Markus¡¯s voice was firm now, cutting through Eddie¡¯s doubts. ¡°Sure, you¡¯re his son, but you¡¯ve also got something he sees in you that he didn¡¯t see in Alfred. That¡¯s why he¡¯s willing to take the risk of having you as his assistant. He believes you could be great if you let yourself be.¡±


    Eddie stared at the shelf of ingredients, feeling a mix of embarrassment and confusion. He knew deep down that Markus was right. He couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that he was simply riding on his father¡¯s coattails. ¡°I just don¡¯t feel like I deserve this chance,¡± he murmured.


    ¡°Look, come on,¡± Markus began, his tone earnest. ¡°Your dad isn¡¯t just anybody. He¡¯s a well-known potion master in Weshaven. If he¡¯s letting you work on his medicines, that means he sees potential in you¡ªmore than you realise. And in my opinion? You could do so much more than just sit there and help out.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about that,¡± Eddie said, trying to downplay it. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m just¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just what?¡± Markus interrupted, his voice sharp, cutting through the clamor of the pub. ¡°Just the son of Mr. Welton? That¡¯s not enough, Eddie. You were a brilliant Alchemist, one of the best back at Aella Academy. You had talent¡ªreal talent¡ªthat people like me could only dream of. And what did you do with it?¡±


    He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he pointed a finger at Eddie. ¡°You threw it away. You let yourself get expelled like it was nothing. Do you know how disrespectful that is? To someone like me, who¡¯s got no knack for magic? You had everything¡ªtalent, ambition, opportunity. And you wasted it.¡±


    Markus leaned back, shaking his head in disbelief, his frustration written all over his face. ¡°You have no idea how much I¡¯d give to have even a fraction of what you¡¯ve been handed, Eddie. And here you are, acting like it doesn¡¯t even matter.¡±


    Eddie blinked, the weight of Markus¡¯s words hitting him like a blow. ¡°Jealous? You¡¯re joking, right?¡± His voice was unsteady, caught between disbelief and confusion.


    Markus didn¡¯t laugh. Instead, he let out a sigh and scratched the back of his neck, avoiding Eddie¡¯s gaze. ¡°Yeah, jealous,¡± he admitted, his tone quieter now but no less firm. ¡°Back at Aella, you made everything look so easy. While I was struggling just to keep up, you¡¯d already mastered it. I thought you¡¯d go places, Eddie. Big places.¡±


    Eddie stared at him, trying to reconcile this vulnerability with the Markus he thought he knew. ¡°Markus, I didn¡¯t...¡± He trailed off, unsure what to say, his chest tightening.


    ¡°But now?¡± Markus continued, his eyes meeting Eddie¡¯s with an intensity that made him shift uncomfortably on his stool. ¡°I¡¯d be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t disappointed. You have this rare talent, Ed, and you¡¯re just sitting on it. Letting it slip through your fingers like it doesn¡¯t matter. You can¡¯t waste this, not when so many of us would kill for a shot at what you have.¡±


    Eddie shifted sighed, the weight of Markus¡¯s words settling in. ¡°Look, things, had changed Markus.¡±


    ¡°Then you have to choose to move with it.¡± Markus said, ¡°Lydia and I might be content working here, but we don¡¯t have the same potential you do. Don¡¯t let that go to waste. There¡¯s a whole world out there waiting for you, and it¡¯s not just about Weshaven. It¡¯s about becoming who you¡¯re meant to be.¡±

 The Lady in Red Coat

    The darkly lit apothecary was filled with the smell of herbs and oils. Eddie pushed the broom over the hardwood floor, the quiet, rhythmic swish reverberating in the motionless store, a lonely sound in a still universe. The shopfront was bathed in lantern light and a candle''s subtle dance on the counter as daylight faded.


    Markus had left a while ago, and Lydia had bid her goodbyes hours earlier. Now, it was just Eddie, enveloped in a space that oscillated between a warm embrace and a suffocating silence.


    He pushed the broom casually, not noticing the dust and crumbs on the floor. He contemplated the pub conversation. Markus''s comments hit hard, unfolding slowly like a dream in the night.


    Eddie never considered it that way. Each syllable of Markus''s remarks stabbed deeper and had an unanticipated weight in his thinking. Envy? Disappointment? Markus had always been there, able to laugh off Eddie''s mistakes with a grin and a joke. But this? This seemed unlike him.


    Since that encounter, Markus''s frustrated and vulnerable tone continued to loop in his brain over and over like a broken record. Eddie never realised the impact of his decisions and mistakes on others, leaving traces he never considered. His mind kept thinking about it. Had Markus always been that resentful towards him? Watching him miss opportunities Markus could only dream of?


    Eddie came to understand that it was never solely about magic. But of Possibility. Achievement. The sort of future that seemed perpetually out of reach for Markus. And Eddie had allowed it all to slip through his fingers, oblivious to the pain it might inflict on those nearest to him.


    He glanced up at the shelves, curious. Dried herbs, tinctures, and little vials line the walls like troops waiting for a command. Everything had unfolded as a result of his father¡¯s influence¡ªhis father¡¯s enterprise, his father¡¯s aspirations.


    His father.


    Eddie wiped his fingers on his face to erase the shadowy feeling. Mr. Welton was always a dreamer. He lived with serene conviction, never questioning his decisions and constantly encouraging him to fulfil his full potential.


    Eddie momentarily rested on the broom, wondering whether it was the bird metaphor should¡¯ve meant. This morning, the Blue Songbird flew. However, his look conveyed an underlying emotion as he watched the bird fly into the sky.


    It was as if his father had been waiting for Eddie to notice it, to see it as more than just a simple act of freeing a beloved bird. Perhaps it was a sign. A nudge, as Markus had put it. But what was Eddie supposed to do with it?


    He shifted his gaze to the counter. The waning candlelight danced softly upon the grain of the wood. It stretches its elongated shadows across the gleaming surface of the wood. The apothecary was a small, tranquil refuge, yet it had transformed into a prison of his own design, its walls closing in around him.


    Eddie saw a shadow as he swept the final shopfront window corner. Under the flickering gas light outside, everything seems odd. Looking up, his breath stopped in his chest


    A hooded figure stared at the apothecary in the faint light of the gas lamp. Eddie tightened his grasp on the broom handle and slowed. Their stance was too steady and purposeful.


    For a moment, Eddie attempted to ignore his sense of unease. It was late. Maybe a late-night wanderer? Is someone going home? Maybe they were fatigued and lost in thought.


    He focused back on the sweeping, but the unease didn¡¯t let up. There was something about the way the figure stood. The way their presence seemed to linger a little too long. Eddie¡¯s eyes flickered back to the shadow beneath the lamplight.


    The figure hadn¡¯t moved.


    Eddie¡¯s pulse quickened, but he tried to push the feeling away. ¡°Come on, get a grip, god damn it.¡± he muttered under his breath. He had enough to worry about¡ªhis father, the shop, Markus¡¯s comment towards him, his own restless thoughts. But still, the figure remained. Silent and unmoving, casting a long shadow on the cobbled street.


    Then, without warning, the figure began to move.


    Slowly. Methodically. Each stride towards the shop was deliberate and calculated. Eddie''s gut wrenched, heart accelerated. The figure vanished. it approached him directly.


    Slowly. Methodically. Each stride towards the shop was deliberate and calculated. Eddie''s gut wrenched, heart accelerated.


    Eddie realised the figure was a woman as it approached. Her dark cloak with a deep hood hid her face. He was mainly impressed by her crimson coat below. Red cloth peeping out from black, like a bloodstain in the night.


    Stable, quiet footfall emanated from the lady. Her speed never slowed as she approached.


    He told himself it was nothing. Just a passerby, maybe someone with a message or inquiry. But the way she moved, the cold air around her, it wasn¡¯t normal. It felt... ominous.


    The lady was now at the shop''s doorway, a few feet away. Her black cloak flaps in the wind.


    The lady raised her brass mahogany staff and tapped it gently against the front glass door. The sound echoed through the quiet shop, deliberate and unhurried¡ªeach tap as methodical as her approach.


    Eddie hesitated, the broom still in his hand, his body tense, but he forced himself to breathe, to act normal.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Eddie finally said, his voice polite, though his unease tugged at his words. ¡°We¡¯re closed. We don¡¯t serve customers at this hour.¡±


    The Lady in Red Coat was unfazed. She remained motionless. Her eyes were fixated on Eddie through the glass, the night''s shadows hiding her face. But not her frightening glint emerald eyes. Her chin rose slightly. She smiled, as if his reaction delighted her.


    ¡°How about an old friend?¡± she replied.


    Her voice was smooth. It laces with an easy familiarity that sent a shiver down Eddie¡¯s spine.


    Eddie''s heart jumped. An old friend? The words were cryptic. Who the hell is she? Someone from his past? A forgotten friend? Eddie doesn''t recognise the figure.


    A dozen names and faces sprang to his mind, but none suited the intriguing lady before him. The question made him choke on his breath. Does he know her?


    Eddie froze. Her coldness lingered between them as she stared at him. He opened his mouth to speak. He wanted to remind her that it was late and he couldn''t serve anybody. His instincts kept him back. Her words had an intangible pull that compelled him to allow her in and embrace it.


    A sigh escaped his lips, the resistance fading like a fog lifting. ¡°One more order it is,¡± He muttered to himself.


    He turned the lights back on, lighting the apothecary softly. As he lifted the latch and pulled open the door, the storefront echoed its unlocking.


    The Lady in Red Coat entered quietly. The hardwood floor creaked when her boots clicked. She studied the room with her glance without speaking.


    Eddie returned to the reception table. Leaning on the counter, he folded his hands and watched her. She exuded calm authority, like she knew something he didn''t.


    Her black, silky cloak trailed after her like a shadow, its edges moving with a subtle charm. Eddie could now see her red coat¡ªbright and brilliant against the dark, flowing softly over her legs and hinting at her exquisite figure¡ªunder the cloak.


    Her fingers brushed over a glass jar filled with shimmering blue powder. She touches lightly, testing its weight. She held a few fragile vials of rare tinctures and resins. Eddie noticed her deliberate, slow movements. She seemed in control. Eddie was uneasy about a skilled hand examining the potions and elixirs.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    As she stopped by a shelf of dried sage and cinnamon sticks, her eyes flicked toward Eddie for the first time, meeting his gaze directly.


    ¡°You run quite an establishment here, Mr Welton,¡± she said, her voice soft, deep and yet cutting through the silence like a blade.


    Eddie swallowed hard, reflexively standing himself, seeing the contrast between her grace and his slouching. The chamber seemed heavy as she approached, the apothecary''s soft hum quieting. Her footsteps resonated like a pulse, infusing the air with an inexplicable energy that made it electric.


    He stammered, his usual cheer faltering under her gaze. ¡°How can I¡ª¡±


    But before he could finish, she raised a gloved hand, and the gracefulness of her movements struck him. ¡°I have come seeking a matter of great significance,¡± she remarked elegantly.


    ¡°What... what are you looking for?¡± Eddie managed to ask, his heart racing as a mix of curiosity and apprehension bubbled within him.


    The Lady in Red Coat approached, her eyes shining. ¡°I am on a quest for that which is truly remarkable, a treasure that dances just beyond the reach of the mundane..¡± Her eyes scanned the shelves, examining the various vials and jars. ¡°And I hold a firm belief that it may dwell within your very grasp.¡±


    Her grin expanded, expressing enjoyment, but her eyes remained intense. ¡°It appears I have stumbled upon the perfect place. Robert Welton is indeed a figure of some renown, yet my curiosity extends beyond merely his talents.¡± She approached, her demeanour changing gently as if she were surrounding a valuable information.


    Eddie swallowed hard, feeling the tension in the air tighten like a drawn bowstring. ¡°I¡ªI don¡¯t understand. What is it that you need?¡± he stammered, trying to keep his composure. The thought of secrets swirling in the depths of her cloaked figure made him uneasy. He could hear the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore, a reminder of the normalcy that felt like a world away.


    ¡°Perhaps you will soon,¡± she replied cryptically. The corners of her lips curled into a smile that sent another chill racing through him. ¡°I find myself in possession of a venture that yearns for the deft hand of a master, and I am convinced that the Alchemist residing within these very walls possesses the skill I seek.¡±


    The tension hung thick in the air as the Lady in the Red Coat continued to observe Eddie, a knowing glint in her eye that made him feel even more on edge. A slow smirk played on her lips as if she was savouring a delicious secret that only she could fully comprehend.


    ¡°I would like to place an order,¡± she proclaimed, her voice flowing with a measured grace. ¡°I seek the fabled Elixir of the illustrious Philosopher¡¯s Stone.¡±


    Eddie¡¯s heart sank at the mention of the fabled elixir. ¡°There¡¯s no such thing as the Elixir of the Philosopher¡¯s Stone.¡± he stammered, his mind racing to process what she was asking. Even the existence of the Philosopher¡¯s Stone was a long-standing myth, its origins shrouded in ambiguity and legend. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but we don¡¯t have it,¡± he said, trying to keep his tone polite but firm.


    The Lady drew nearer, her gaze sharpening with a flicker of intrigue, as curiosity stirred within her heart. ¡°Pray tell, what grants you such unwavering confidence in its nonexistence?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s just a myth,¡± Eddie replied, his voice trembling as uncertainty gnawed at him. ¡°It¡¯s never been proven to exist in any real form.¡±


    ¡°Is that indeed the case?¡± She pressed forth, her smile broadening.


    Eddie nodded, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. He wished he could stand taller, and appear more confident, but her presence felt overwhelming.


    Then, without a flicker of gaze averted, the Lady drew nearer still. ¡°Pray, Dost thou know who I verily am?¡±


    Eddie froze, caught off guard by her question. He glanced at the intricate embroidery of her cloak, the vibrant red of her coat, the glimmer of her golden buttons, and the staff she held, which seemed to pulse with an aura of authority. As he took in the details, he felt a shiver run down his spine.


    At that moment, everything clicked into place, the pieces of the puzzle coming together in a whirlwind of realisation. ¡°You¡¯re a Master Alchemist.¡±


    As the tension in the air thickened, The Lady in Red Coat reached up and slowly lowered her hood. The dim light of the apothecary illuminated her features. It reveals a familiar face that makes Eddie¡¯s heart skip a beat. Her short, bright red hair framed her face perfectly. Glinting like polished copper in the warm light. High cheekbones accentuated her fair skin, and her striking emerald green eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint.


    ¡°Catherine?¡± he exclaimed, his voice a mix of disbelief and confusion.


    Her elvish ears peeked out from beneath her hair. It adds an ethereal quality to her already captivating appearance. She wore a mischievous smile. One that transformed the atmosphere from ominous to delightfully playful. ¡°Surprise!¡± she said, her tone shifting. ¡°Did you really think I was an assassin? Perchance just a very dramatic alchemist?¡±


    Eddie blinked in realisation, laughter bubbling up despite the earlier tension. ¡°I swear, every alchemist I¡¯ve met has to act mysterious, shrouded in allegory and cryptic hints, I¡¯m fucking done.¡±


    Catherine chuckled, her eyes sparkling with humour. ¡°It¡¯s part of the job description, you know. How else shall we sustain the air of mystery that beckons us forth?¡±


    Before he could respond, she stepped forward and enveloped him in a warm hug. ¡°Look at you! You¡¯ve grown so big! The last time I saw you, you were half this size!¡±


    Eddie couldn¡¯t help but laugh, the tension evaporating like mist in the morning sun. ¡°I¡¯m still the same old me, just a bit taller.¡±


    ¡°How unkind of thee to let slip the memory of your beloved aunt!¡± she teased, giving him a mock pout as she stepped back to assess him with a playful glint in her eyes.


    As Catherine stepped back from the embrace, still chuckling at Eddie¡¯s playful jab, the door to the apothecary swung open once more. In bounded Torrie, Eddie¡¯s little sister, her curls bouncing with every step and her face alight with excitement.


    ¡°Catherine!¡± Torrie exclaimed, her voice full of delight as she practically launched herself into a hug.


    ¡°Well, well, if it isn¡¯t my favourite niece!¡± Catherine announced with exaggerated flair, her light blue eyes twinkling with mischief. With a flourish, she spun Torrie around in a grand gesture before gently placing her back on the ground, tousling Torrie¡¯s hair.


    ¡°You won¡¯t believe it! I spotted Aunt Catherine¡¯s carriage while I was heading home from Aella Academy!¡± Torrie jumped in, her excitement practically bubbling over. ¡°So I caught a lift! Catherine totally said I could!¡±


    ¡°Torrie!¡± Eddie let out an exasperated groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. ¡°You really shouldn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°And I totally did!¡± Torrie wrapped things up with a victorious grin. ¡°Catherine even told me what to get for snacks later!¡± She made a face at Eddie, sticking her tongue out before sprinting towards the back room, her laughter echoing in the air behind her. ¡°I¡¯ll stash them in the kitchen!¡±


    Catherine let out a laugh, her head shaking in disbelief. ¡°She¡¯s got more energy than a fire-breathing dragon on a rampage.¡±


    Just as Eddie was about to respond, the door swung open once more, unveiling Mr. and Mrs. Welton.


    Mrs. Welton¡¯s eyes sparkled with delight at the sight of Catherine. ¡°Catherine!¡± she called out, her voice filled with warmth and affection as she rushed forward to wrap her in a loving embrace.


    Mrs. Welton stepped back, ¡°You appear to have hardly aged a day, just as ever.¡± It¡¯s utterly infuriating.


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly why you hold the title of my favourite younger sister,¡± Catherine replied, her smile full of mischief. ¡°I daresay you carry your seventy years with a grace that surpasses anyone I have ever encountered.¡±


    Mrs. Welton rolled her eyes good-naturedly. ¡°Flattery will get you nowhere, Cathy.¡±


    ¡°Oh, it always brought me treats when we were young,¡± Catherine replied with a playful tone.


    As the two women shared their laughter, Mr. Welton drew near to Catherine, a grin spreading across his face. ¡°Ah, Catherine! Still as keen as ever, I see.¡±


    ¡°And yet, here you are, still on your feet.¡± Catherine smiled, ¡°It seems that alchemy is working its magic on your joints, Robert.¡± Catherine remarked with a playful lift of her eyebrow.


    Mr. Welton chuckled. ¡°Or maybe I¡¯m just that stubborn.¡±


    ¡°Oh, do not be so humble. You were truly one of my most unforgettable apprentices,¡± Catherine remarked, a playful glint in her eye. ¡°I recall the time you mishandled that levitation potion, almost sending the cauldron soaring through the ceiling.¡± She crossed her arms and fixed him with a pointed gaze, yet the corners of her mouth betrayed her with the hint of a smile. ¡°And don¡¯t think for a moment that I¡¯m unaware you did it intentionally to catch Alyssa¡¯s attention.¡±


    Mr. Welton feigned innocence, shrugging his shoulders in mock surrender. ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Oh, please.¡± Catherine rolled her eyes. ¡°You orchestrated the explosion with such precision that she would come rushing to our aid. And do you know who had to clean up the mess afterward? Me!¡±


    Mrs. Welton chuckled softly, her hand delicately covering her mouth. ¡°Hold on, is that the reason the cauldron found itself lodged halfway into the ceiling?¡± I had always believed it to be merely one of his typical, awkward instances.¡±


    ¡°I had to make sure she noticed me somehow,¡± Mr. Welton admitted with a sheepish grin. ¡°And it worked, didn¡¯t it, Alyssa?¡± He glanced at Mrs. Welton, his expression softening.


    ¡°It did,¡± she confessed, a gentle smile gracing her lips. ¡°Yet, you felt it necessary to explode the brewing room to capture my notice.¡±


    Catherine let out a huff, though it was more amused than irritated. ¡°You used me as your unwitting accomplice in your courtship shenanigans. The nerve!¡± She shook her head dramatically. ¡°I should¡¯ve charged you extra for those lessons.¡±


    ¡°And yet,¡± Mr. Welton said, his grin widening, ¡°you still wrote me a glowing recommendation to the guild after I finished.¡±


    Catherine waved a dismissive hand, though a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. ¡°Only because I felt sorry for Alyssa. I figured she deserved a husband who could at least brew a half-decent potion without destroying half the brewing room.¡±


    The playful banter between them drew laughter from Mrs. Welton, who nudged Catherine lightly. ¡°Admit it, you¡¯re proud of him, Cathy.¡±


    ¡°Proud?¡± Catherine exclaimed with feigned outrage. ¡°I felt a wave of relief wash over me at the thought of not having to contend with him once he had graduated. You cannot fathom the countless moments I wished to transform him into a fish and set him free in the vast ocean.¡±


    The room filled with lighthearted laughter, the bonds of friendship and family weaving together like the strands of a well-crafted spell. For Eddie, watching them interact felt like a reminder of the strength that came from those connections¡ªsomething he didn¡¯t often realize he needed.


    At that moment, the apothecary felt alive with magic¡ªnot just the kind bottled on shelves, but the kind that lingered in shared memories and warm embraces.

 Bird in a Cage

    <blockquote>


    ¡°Alchemy is different... It doesn¡¯t just amplify or add¡ªit transforms... It takes what already exists and changes its very essence. A stone can become iron. A tree can become medicine. Even people¡­ can become a better version of themselves.¡±


    </blockquote>


    The Welton¡¯s family dining room brimmed with a nostalgic energy. Its rustic charm is accentuated by the dim, flickering light of the cast-iron chandelier. The room was alive with the soft murmur of conversation. Clinking of utensils against earthenware plates fills the room as the conversation goes. Fire crackled in the hearth, casting playful shadows that seemed to dance to the rhythm of voices blending together in warm familiarity.


    Eddie sat at his usual spot, his gaze drifting to the framed portrait above the hutch. He sees a younger version of himself smiling beside his parents. His thoughts were a jumble, caught somewhere between the present and the past. It felt surreal to have his aunt Catherine here after so long, joining them at the family table.


    Across from Eddie sat Catherine. Her short, uneven red hair shimmered in the firelight, and her emerald green eyes¡ªeerily similar to Eddie¡¯s¡ªsparkled with the humour that always seemed ready to burst into mischief.


    ¡°It¡¯s been, what, fifteen years since I last came through Weshaven?¡± Catherine mused, leaning back in her chair and shooting Alyssa a playful glance. ¡°Barely feels like a moment.¡±


    Alyssa raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smirk. ¡°Fifteen years is hardly a moment, Cathy. Only an Elf like you would think that¡¯s a short time.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come now, Ally.¡± Catherine replied with a mock huff. ¡°You make it sound like I abandoned you!¡±


    ¡°You did!¡± Alyssa protested, folding her arms. ¡°You vanished to chase adventure while I was stuck here, growing wrinkles and silver hair.¡± She gestured dramatically at herself before leaning forward with a grin. ¡°Meanwhile, you look exactly the same as you did when I was twelve.¡±


    ¡°Perks of being the responsible older sister,¡± Catherine shot back with a wide smile.


    ¡°Responsible?¡± Alyssa laughed, the sound rich and familiar. ¡°You call skipping town for years on end ¡®responsible¡¯? If memory serves, you¡¯ve been running from responsibility for as long as I can remember.¡±


    Catherine flashed a fond smile. ¡°I wasn¡¯t running. I was traveling. Learning. And teaching, thank you very much.¡±


    ¡°Oh, teaching?¡± Alyssa leaned in, clearly enjoying herself. ¡°You mean picking up random kids off the streets and dragging them along on your whirlwind adventures?¡±


    Robert, who had been listening with an amused expression, decided to interject. ¡°Sounds familiar. Pretty sure I was one of those random kids once.¡±


    ¡°Exactly, Robert!¡± Catherine said breezily, though her smile widened. ¡°They¡¯re lucky to have me. My last student, for instance¡ªa kid from the school somewhere in King¡¯s Grave¡ªturned out to be the princess of a royal family living there. She insisted on following me everywhere. ¡®Teach me this, Master Catherine,¡¯ ¡®Show me that.¡¯¡± Catherine mimicked the princess¡¯s voice with exaggerated drama, throwing her arms in the air. ¡°Honestly, she was so pushy.¡±


    ¡°And yet, you let her,¡± Alyssa said knowingly.


    ¡°Of course, I did,¡± Catherine admitted with a shrug. ¡°She had potential. Couldn¡¯t exactly say no, could I?¡±


    Robert, who had been quietly enjoying their banter, chimed in. ¡°So, what brings you to Weshaven this time, Catherine? We both know you don¡¯t just pop in for family reunions.¡±


    Catherine hesitated for a moment before smirking. ¡°You know me too well. My last lead brought me here. I¡¯m looking for¡­ something.¡±


    Robert immediately caught the evasive tone and leaned forward, her eyes narrowing playfully. ¡°Something? That¡¯s suspiciously vague, even for you.¡±


    Catherine waved a hand, brushing off the comment. ¡°Just something important. And, before you ask, yes, I made up some excuse to leave the princess behind. She¡¯ll survive without me for a while.¡±


    Alyssa shook her head, chuckling. ¡°Still dodging your responsibilities, I see. Some things never change.¡±


    ¡°I call it delegating, Alyssa.¡± Catherine corrected, her grin brightening. ¡°But I¡¯ll have you know, I¡¯m quite responsible when it counts.¡±


    Alyssa snorted, leaning back in her chair. ¡°Sure you are, Cathy. Sure you are.¡±


    The warmth of their sisterly bond filled the room, their teasing banter weaving a tapestry of history and affection. Eddie watched the exchange with a small smile, realising just how much Catherine¡¯s presence brought out a side of his mother he rarely saw¡ªplayful, nostalgic, and full of life.


    ¡°Aunt Catherine, Aunt Catherine!¡± Torrie piped, ¡°What exactly did you teach the princess?¡± She said, breaking into the conversation. Leaning forward, her wide eyes brimming with curiosity.


    ¡°I was teacher her Alchemy,¡± Catherine said, her tone shifting into that of a natural tutor. ¡°She had potential, even if she didn¡¯t always have the patience.¡±


    ¡°Oooh, What¡¯s Alchemy?¡± Torrie asked, her head tilting. ¡°And what makes it different from other kinds of magic?¡±


    The opportunity to teach shone in Catherine¡¯s sparkling light blue eyes as she leaned back. ¡°Ah, an excellent question! Let me explain. Let¡¯s take Bardry for example, Bardry is about amplifying what already exists¡ªlike making a whisper echo like thunder, or turning a small flame into a roaring fire. Enchantments, on the other hand, infuse an object with something new¡ªlike making a sword unbreakable or a cloak resistant to flames.¡±


    ¡°Alchemy is different.¡± She leaned forward, eyes locking onto Torrie as she continued. ¡°It doesn¡¯t just amplify or add¡ªit transforms. It takes what already exists and changes its very essence. A stone can become iron. A tree can become medicine. Even people¡­ can become a better version of themselves.¡±


    Catherine paused, letting the thought linger, then smiled. ¡°Alchemy sees potential in everything and everyone. It believes that anything can become something else, something better, with the right understanding and effort.¡±


    Catherine¡¯s voice broke through his thoughts. ¡°Talking about Alchemy, Torrie,¡± she said brightly, her light blue eyes landing warmly on Eddie. ¡°Your big brother Edward was an exceptional Alchemist back at Aella, if I¡¯m not mistaken.¡±


    The room stilled. Torrie¡¯s curiosity faded into quiet confusion, and Alyssa exchanged a quick glance with Robert, her expression unreadable. Even the crackle of the fireplace seemed to recede into the background.


    Oblivious to the shift in atmosphere, Catherine continued, her tone full of admiration. ¡°Your mother wrote me the sweetest letter years ago, detailing all your accomplishments. Winning the regional alchemy competitions, consistently ranking at the top of his class¡­¡± Catherine¡¯s voice was filled with pride, her admiration genuine. ¡°She even said the headmaster personally complimented his work! Quite the prodigy, weren¡¯t you, Eddie?!¡±This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Eddie¡¯s gaze remained fixed on his plate, the stew untouched. The praise, though meant kindly, cut deeper than Catherine could have known.


    The dining room fell silent. Torrie¡¯s wide eyes darted between Eddie and Catherine, and Alyssa¡¯s smile faltered, her hands tightening slightly around her fork. Robert cleared his throat, but even he seemed unsure of what to say.


    Alyssa cleared her throat gently, reaching out to refill Catherine¡¯s glass of water as if to shift the conversation. ¡°Catherine, why don¡¯t you tell us more about King¡¯s Grave? The princess sounds like quite a handful,¡± she said, her tone light but pointed.


    Catherine blinked, glancing between Eddie and her sister-in-law. Slowly, understanding dawned on her face. ¡°Oh¡­ of course,¡± she said quickly, adjusting her posture. ¡°Well, the princess has been my most persistent student yet. She has this way of¡­¡±


    The conversation shifted after that. It turns into lighter topics. Catherine¡¯s latest travel destinations, stories of Torrie¡¯s misadventures at school, and Mr Welton¡¯s stubborn insistence on using outdated brewing methods. With each burst of laughter, the tension lessened.


    With his appetite vanished, Eddie remained fixated on his plate. The warmth of the firelight on his face felt suffocating now. He clenched his fists under the table, willing himself not to react, but his pulse thundered in his ears.


    Tonight, it felt like two Eddies were sitting at the table. One was the Eddie from the past, the eager apprentice who aspired to be worthy of his family¡¯s legacy, of the alchemical tradition. The other was the present Eddie, who sat in silence. The one drifting through life without purpose. Chained to a destiny he could no longer bring himself to accept. Then came Catherine. Smiling at him with the same admiration and encouragement she¡¯d always had. Unaware that the nephew she thought she knew was long gone.


    ¡°Eddie?¡± Catherine¡¯s voice brought him back to the present, her eyes searching his face with gentle concern. ¡°How have you been? It¡¯s been so long¡­ Oh, I was meaning to ask¡ªdo you still have that recommendation letter from the Sage¡¯s Institute Scholarships? The one you got after winning that national alchemical competition in your second year at Aella? Are you thinking of taking the tests now that you¡¯re in your twenties?¡±


    The question struck Eddie like a blow, his pulse quickening. He forced his grip to stay loose around the spoon in his hand. Catherine didn¡¯t know. She couldn¡¯t know. To her, he was still the prodigy, the star student destined for greatness.


    ¡°Uh¡­ yeah,¡± Eddie said after a beat too long, his voice steady but hollow. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ considering it.¡±


    Catherine¡¯s face lit up with excitement, her smile wide and brimming with pride. ¡°Oh, Eddie, that¡¯s wonderful! Do you know which university you¡¯re planning to apply to? Concordia? Pinesworth? Alikria?¡± Eagerly, she leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. ¡°Or maybe Edenfield? I remember you talking about it so much when you were younger.¡±


    Edenfield.


    The name landed like a stone in Eddie¡¯s stomach. His chest tightened, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he might not be able to respond. Edenfield was everything he had ever wanted¡ªeverything he had worked for. The hours of study, the competitions, the sleepless nights poring over alchemical formulas¡ªit had all been for Edenfield. And then it had been ripped away.


    But Catherine was watching him, her smile so full of hope and pride it made his skin crawl. He couldn¡¯t bear to shatter that image. So he lied again.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, his voice barely above a whisper. ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to go there.¡±


    Catherine beamed, her joy filling the room. ¡°I knew it! You were born for a place like Edenfield. The professors will be lining up to have you in their classes. Oh, Eddie, you¡¯re going to do amazing things. I just know it.¡±


    Her words, so full of praise and confidence, cut deeper than any insult could have. Eddie¡¯s heart felt heavy, weighed down by the growing tangle of lies.


    He wanted to tell Catherine to stop, to let it go, but he couldn¡¯t. Instead, he forced another smile, nodding along as she continued to gush about his potential. The room felt stifling, the air thick with unspoken truths.


    ¡°Thanks, Catherine,¡± he murmured, unable to muster anything more.


    If only she knew the truth. Aella Academy was gone; there were no more late-night transmutation projects or intricate alchemical theories to explore. Just him, trapped in a tiny Weshaven apothecary, crafting potions for some local fishermen. He wasn¡¯t the promising young Alchemist anymore, the one who had wowed his classmates and professors with his brilliant mind.


    No, if they could see him now, they wouldn¡¯t be filled with awe. They would see only shame, disappointment. He wasn¡¯t an Alchemist anymore, not in the way he once dreamed. He was just a potion maker¡ªa far cry from the future he had imagined in the grand halls of Aella.


    It was peculiar; Sitting here with his family, he felt both more connected and more isolated than ever before. Like a ghost trapped in the shell of his former life.


    Eddie felt Torrie¡¯s gaze burn into the side of his face like a spear through a knight¡¯s armour. He didn¡¯t need to look up to know what she was thinking. He could sense it ¡ª the quiet understanding, the pity, and that other emotion he couldn¡¯t quite stomach: disappointment.


    The worst part was that it wasn¡¯t the cold, judgmental kind of disappointment you¡¯d get from a stranger. It was softer, but more cutting, the kind you¡¯d get from someone who believed in you once and had watched you fall.


    Eddie stared down at his plate. He pushes the last remnants of his meal as Catherine¡¯s voice fills the room. She was telling a story. Something lighthearted, about one of the latest distant towns she visits, oblivious to the truth. Still caught up in the illusion of who she thought he was. He had let her believe it ¡ª that he was still the same promising student she once knew. He was just taking some time off to work with his father before diving back into his magical studies.


    But Torrie knew better.


    He noticed her watching him from the corner of his eye; her brow was furrowed, and her mouth was set in a tight line. She knew the truth. How Eddie had come back home, broken and ashamed, how he¡¯d withdrawn into himself, abandoning the magic that once defined him. She had seen it all happen, step by step, as he slipped further and further into this empty shell he¡¯d become.


    Now she was watching him lie to Catherine ¡ª the very person he used to idolise.


    What must Torrie think of him now?


    He stole a glance at Torrie, and for a moment, their eyes met. Hers were full of unspoken words. It brims with that same question she¡¯d silently asked him a hundred times: Why don¡¯t you just tell her the truth?


    Eddie¡¯s gaze dropped to his lap. Because I can¡¯t, he wanted to say. Because I¡¯m not ready. Because I¡¯m a coward. He couldn¡¯t bear to lose the last shred of admiration Catherine still held for him. He couldn¡¯t face the look on her face if she knew the whole truth. That he hadn¡¯t just lost his place at Aella Academy, he¡¯d lost himself.


    ¡°¡ªand I was thinking, Eddie,¡± Catherine said, breaking into his thoughts, ¡°Maybe we could spend some time together this week. You could show me what you¡¯ve been working on ¡ª some of your own projects, if you have time. You always had such a knack for transmutational work.¡±


    The praise felt like a punch to the gut. He managed a strained smile, his throat tightening. ¡°I¡­ haven¡¯t really been working on much lately,¡± he mumbled. ¡°Just helping out at the apothecary. I¡¯ve been¡­ busy with that.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s perfectly fine!¡± Catherine¡¯s smile widened, still radiating that same encouraging warmth that used to light up his world when he was younger. ¡°You¡¯ve got plenty of time. You¡¯re still young. The important thing is that you¡¯re putting in the effort ¡ª that you¡¯re still trying.¡±


    A sudden dryness overcame Eddie¡¯s mouth; he swallowed. He felt a wave of shame wash over him. Still trying? He wasn¡¯t trying at all. He was stuck, drifting, hiding away from the very thing he once loved. How could she not see it? Or maybe she just didn¡¯t want to see it. Maybe she was holding on to who he used to be, just like he was.


    He had to get out of there.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Catherine, Mom, Dad, Torrie,¡± he said abruptly, pushing back his chair and standing up. His legs felt unsteady, and he gripped the back of his chair to keep from swaying. ¡°I think I¡¯ll turn in for the night. I¡¯ve¡­ I¡¯ve been up since dawn, helping Dad. It¡¯s been a long day.¡±


    There was a flicker of surprise on Catherine¡¯s face, but she quickly recovered, nodding understandingly. ¡°Of course, Eddie. You¡¯ve been working so hard.¡± Her eyes softened, her smile filled with pride. ¡°I¡¯m so proud of you. You¡¯ve always been so diligent and so responsible. You¡¯re doing great.¡±


    The words hit him like a dagger to the chest, sharp and cruel. He wanted to tell her to stop. Stop being proud of me. Stop thinking I¡¯m someone I¡¯m not. But the words stayed lodged in his throat, suffocated by the guilt that threatened to choke him.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± he murmured, barely able to get the word out. He turned away quickly, his shoulders hunched as if trying to shield himself from the weight of her praise.


    As he left the dining room, he felt Torrie¡¯s eyes on his back, heavy and piercing. He knew she was disappointed ¡ª disappointed in his cowardice, in his inability to tell the truth, in the way he was letting Catherine believe in a lie. And that disappointment hurt more than anything Catherine could have said.


    He reached the stairs and paused for a moment, his hand gripping the bannister tightly. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The guilt, the shame, the pain ¡ª it all swirled inside him, a dark, suffocating storm.


    He was a liar. A coward. He was letting down everyone whoever believed in him.


    And yet¡­ he couldn¡¯t stop. He couldn¡¯t tell the truth.


    Not yet.

 The Heirloom

    <blockquote>


    ¡°Take it back. It¡¯s yours. They are meant to be yours.¡±


    </blockquote>


    The curtains diffused the morning light, creating a warm ambiance in the cosy living room of the Welton household. The house was quieter than usual¡ªno bustling activity from the apothecary or the usual scent of herbal potions drifting from the brewing room. The brewing room was locked tight. Their mother hadn¡¯t returned yet, not since she left with Catherine and their father early that morning. The usual hum of the apothecary was absent, leaving only the two of the siblings in the house for the moment.


    Torrie, full of restless energy, had set up camp in the living room, her school textbooks spread across the coffee table. The diagrams of elemental states and transmutation arrays lay open before her, an ambitious look in her eyes. Though distracted, Eddie agreed to help her practice while lounging on the couch.


    Gripping her wand tight, Torrie focused on the textbook, her brow furrowed in thought. Eddie, however, couldn¡¯t quite focus on her. He glanced out the window, glimpsing the harbour in the distance, then looked back at his younger sister, his gaze softening despite himself.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Torrie said, brushing her brunette hair out of her face. ¡°So I set up the transmutation circle, and then I just focus on turning the copper into vapor, right?¡±


    Eddie nodded. ¡°Right, but you have to maintain stability. If you lose control for a second, the copper will either explode into shards or escape as gas, and we¡¯ll both get yelled at for making the living room smell like burnt metal.¡±


    Torrie wrinkled her nose. ¡°Noted. No instability.¡±


    She gripped her school-issued wand, but Eddie reached out, stopping her. ¡°Hold on.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I suggest you use the ring instead, remember? The one i gave you a few years back?¡± He gestured to her necklace, where a silver ring with intricate jade inlays hung from a delicate chain.


    With a blink, Torrie¡¯s hand flew to the ring hanging from her necklace. ¡°Your ring?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Eddie said, leaning forward. ¡°Trust me, that wand they gave you at Aella is garbage for anything precise. They¡¯ve been using the same model even back when i was still there. That ring¡±¡ªhe pointed at the ring¡ª¡°Is far stronger. You¡¯ll have better control.¡±


    Torrie hesitated, her fingers brushing the cool metal of the ring. ¡°But¡ª¡±


    ¡°No buts,¡± Eddie interrupted, his expression neutral, though his tone softened. ¡°I gave it to you for a reason. It¡¯s yours now. Besides, it¡¯s not doing you any good hanging around your neck, is it?¡±


    Torrie studied him for a moment, then slipped the ring off the chain and onto her finger. It felt heavier than her wand, its surface smooth and comforting against her skin. ¡°Okay,¡± she said, giving him a small smile. ¡°If you¡¯re sure.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± Eddie said, leaning back and gesturing to the array she had drawn. ¡°Now, let¡¯s start.¡±


    As she focused on the transmutation circle, the ring glowed faintly in Torrie¡¯s adjusting grip. She muttered the incantation under her breath, her free hand hovering over the copper sample in the centre of the array. The surrounding air grew warmer, a faint hum filling the room.


    The copper block gleamed under the glass container, its edges sharp and flawless. Torrie¡¯s jade ring, on her finger, cast a green glow on the transmutation circle, its runes pulsing with her magic.


    Eddie leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, watching every detail. Torrie¡¯s face was a mask of deep concentration, her brows furrowed, and her breathing steady as she guided the spell. Slowly, the edges of the copper began to lose their definition, softening as it started to disintegrate into a delicate vapor.


    ¡°Steady,¡± Eddie warned, leaning forward, his sharp eyes watching every movement.


    The copper began to shift, its solid surface shimmering as it broke apart. Silver vapor rose, curling in the air.


    Torrie was focused, her brow furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. The copper began to lose its sharp edges, softening as it transitioned into a shimmering gas. The mist rose, spiralling upward and collecting inside the glass container above.


    Eddie could feel the tension in the room like a storm cloud ready to burst. The process was delicate. Too fast, and the transformation would destabilise; too slow, and the reaction would fail. Torrie¡¯s grip on the jade ring tightened, her magic flowing, but Eddie knew her too well.


    He saw it before it happened: the slight twitch in her fingers, the way her shoulders tensed.


    Impatience.


    The first pop echoed like a firecracker. A small section of the copper disintegrated too fast, releasing a sharp burst of gas. Eddie tensed but said nothing. He knew better than to break her concentration outright. Unconsciously, he moved his hand towards her wand, which lay beside him on the table, his fingers brushing against the wood.


    Another pop. This one louder. The green glow of the transmutation circle flickered as Torrie¡¯s focus wavered.


    Eddie tensed, but he said nothing. Giving her a warning now risks breaking her concentration. Instead, his hand gripped the wand tight, fingers brushing against the familiar school-issued wand lying on the table.


    Just in case.


    The green glow of the ring began to waver, the runes on the transmutation circle flickering. Torrie¡¯s breathing hitched, and Eddie saw the strain in her shoulders.


    ¡°Torrie,¡± Eddie said quietly, his voice low and steady. ¡°Slow down. Just breathe.¡±


    Her jaw tightened, her lips pressing into a thin line. Eddie recognised the signs¡ªshe was trying, but his words had only added to the mounting pressure.


    The process grew more chaotic. The copper¡¯s edges popped and cracked, the disintegration now uneven and unpredictable.


    ¡°Torrie¡ª¡± Eddie started, but it was too late.


    The copper block exploded with a sharp crack, its fragments, and a cloud of shimmering, toxic metal gas swirling inside the glass container. The glow of the transmutation circle sputtered out, and Torrie stumbled back, her concentration shattered.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Eddie didn¡¯t hesitate. His hand darted for the wand, and in one fluid motion, he had it gripped. His body moved on instinct, years of suppressed training kicking in.


    The gas swirled, threatening to spread into the room. Eddie¡¯s mind focused like a razor¡¯s edge, his free hand tracing a smaller transmutation circle in the air. He directed the spell through the wand, his magic surging forward with an intensity he hadn¡¯t felt in years.


    The swirling vapor responded to his command, the green glow of Torrie¡¯s ring now mingling with a faint blue light emanating from the wand. The gas coalesced, drawn upward and forced into the glass container. Eddie¡¯s focus didn¡¯t waver, even as sweat beaded on his brow.


    ¡°Almost¡­ there¡­¡± he muttered through gritted teeth.


    With a sharp flick of his wrist, the bottom of the container glowed red-hot, the glass softening and sealing shut. The toxic gas was now trapped, swirling inside the newly-formed ampoule.


    Eddie exhaled, his hand trembling as he set the wand down.


    Torrie collapsed onto the couch, her face pale, and her breathing ragged. Eddie slumped into the armchair across from her, his chest heaving. The room was heavy with the acrid scent of metal and the tension of what had just happened.


    ¡°That¡­¡± Torrie gasped, clutching the ring on her finger. ¡°That was insane.¡±


    Eddie gave a weak laugh, rubbing his face with both hands. ¡°You¡¯re telling me.¡± He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. ¡°We¡¯re not doing that again in the living room. Ever.¡±


    ¡°But we did it!¡± Torrie said, beaming.


    Eddie laughed as he panted for breath. ¡°Not bad though, for someone who almost turned the house into a chemical hazard.¡±


    Torrie laughed, carefully sealing the flask. ¡°Admit it¡ªyou were impressed.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± Eddie said, leaning back with a faint smile. ¡°Just don¡¯t tell Mom and Dad we were doing a transmutation in the living room, or we¡¯ll both be in trouble.¡±


    -o-


    The living room was a mess. Fine copper dust glittered on the floor like tiny flecks of gold, and the air was thick with the acrid stench of burnt metal. Eddie had already flung the wide window open, letting the cold evening air rush in. He grabbed the old fan from the corner and turned it on, the blades creaking as they started to spin.


    Torrie was on her knees, sweeping up the scattered remnants of their experiment with a dustpan and broom. She wrinkled her nose, her face scrunching up in exaggerated disgust.


    ¡°It smells like we roasted a bunch of coins in here,¡± she said, glaring at Eddie as if it were somehow his fault.


    ¡°You¡¯re the one who rushed it,¡± Eddie shot back, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he tossed a damp cloth at her.


    Torrie caught it mid-air and stuck out her tongue. ¡°You¡¯re the one who jinxed me! All that hovering and ¡®steady your magic¡¯ stuff¡ªwhat was I supposed to do? Meditate?¡±


    ¡°You were supposed to focus,¡± Eddie retorted, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall. ¡°Not blow up half the living room.¡±


    Torrie grinned as she resumed sweeping. ¡°You¡¯re just mad because you had to play hero with my wand. Admit it¡ªyou miss this stuff. Alchemy. Magic. The chaos.¡±


    Eddie chuckled under his breath but didn¡¯t answer. Instead, he grabbed another cloth and started wiping down the table. The silence between them lingered for a moment, broken only by the soft hum of the fan and the rustling of Torrie¡¯s broom.


    Then Torrie spoke, her tone more curious than teasing. ¡°Hey, Eddie¡­¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯d you give me the ring?¡±


    Eddie froze mid-swipe. The question hung in the air like a weight, heavier than the smell of burnt copper. He set the cloth down, avoiding Torrie¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°You never told me,¡± she continued, her voice quieter now. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s your family¡¯s heirloom, right? From your real family.¡±


    Eddie exhaled, his hand tightening around the edge of the table. ¡°Yeah, it is.¡±


    Torrie stopped sweeping, leaning on the broom as she watched him. ¡°So why me? I¡¯m not exactly¡­ careful with stuff like that.¡±


    Eddie continued wiping down the table, the copper dust clinging to the cloth. Torrie was perched on the armrest of the couch, still fiddling with the jade-silver ring. She twirled it around her finger, her gaze thoughtful.


    Eddie glanced at the silver-jade ring on Torrie¡¯s finger as she turned it, the green stone catching the light.


    ¡°You¡¯ll use them more than I will,¡± he said, his tone casual, though there was an edge of finality to it.


    ¡°So¡­ you gave it to me because I¡¯d use it more than you do?¡± she asked, breaking the silence.


    Eddie nodded, not looking up. ¡°Yeah. You¡¯re in Aella Academy now, just starting out. You¡¯ll need all the help you can get.¡±


    Torrie tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. ¡°But why don¡¯t you need it?¡±


    The question was so simple, so direct, that it caught Eddie off guard. His hand froze mid-swipe, and for a moment, he just stared at the damp cloth in his hand, as though it held the answer.


    Torrie leaned forward, her tone still curious but now laced with something deeper. ¡°What do you mean, Eddie? Why don¡¯t you use it anymore?¡±


    Eddie set the cloth down and straightened, his shoulders tense. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, the words sticking in his throat.


    ¡°I just¡­ don¡¯t, alright?¡± he finally said, his voice quieter than usual.


    Torrie frowned, unsatisfied. ¡°That¡¯s not an answer.¡±


    Eddie ran a hand through his silver hair, the gesture betraying his frustration. ¡°It¡¯s complicated, Torrie.¡±


    ¡°Then uncomplicate it,¡± she shot back, her tone sharper now. ¡°You were amazing at Alchemy. Everyone at Aella Academy said so. You had that scholarship and everything! So why¡ª¡± She stopped herself, hesitating. Then, softer, ¡°Why don¡¯t you want to do Alchemy anymore?¡±


    The room felt smaller, the air heavier, even with the window open and the fan whirring. Eddie leaned back against the table, crossing his arms over his chest.


    ¡°Torrie¡­ I don¡¯t think you¡¯d understand,¡± he said finally, his voice low.


    Torrie stood, her expression a mix of defiance and hurt. ¡°Try me.¡±


    Eddie hesitated, his eyes darting to the floor as if the answer might be written there.


    After a moment, he managed a half-hearted smile. ¡°It¡¯s because I¡¯m focusing on potion-making now. You know, that doesn¡¯t really use magic much.¡±


    Torrie raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. ¡°Really? Potion-making doesn¡¯t use magic much?¡±


    Eddie chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°Well, it¡¯s true. You don¡¯t need fancy spells for chopping herbs or boiling cauldrons, you know?¡±


    Torrie crossed her arms, her expression skeptical. ¡°Eddie, you¡¯re terrible at lying. You know that, right?¡±


    Before she could press further, the front door creaked open.


    ¡°Eddie?¡± Markus called from the doorway.


    He stepped inside, holding the edge of the doorframe with one hand and looking flustered. ¡°Do you have the key to the shop? It¡¯s opening time, and I can¡¯t find it anywhere.¡±


    Relieved, Eddie slumped his shoulders, then straightened, taking the opportunity. ¡°Oh, uh, yeah, I think I¡¯ve got it.¡± He patted his pockets with exaggerated enthusiasm, already making his way toward the door. ¡°Let me check.¡±


    Torrie watched him go, her eyes narrowing. ¡°Eddie¡­¡± she started, but he cut her off.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be right back!¡± he said over his shoulder, his tone too bright, too eager. ¡°Markus and I need to get the storefront sorted.¡±


    Eddie was just about to step out the door, a mix of relief and escape flooding through him, when Torrie¡¯s voice cut through the air.


    ¡°Eddie!¡±


    He froze, his hand on the doorframe, the cool wood under his fingertips feeling heavier than before. He turned back to see her standing in the doorway, holding something in her hand.


    Torrie¡¯s fingers were wrapped around the chains, and Eddie¡¯s heirloom ring¡ªengraved with symbols of his family¡ªrested on top. She was offering it back to him, the delicate metal glinting in the light.


    ¡°Here,¡± Torrie said, her voice small but firm. ¡°Take it back. It¡¯s yours. They are meant to be yours.¡±


    For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Torrie¡¯s eyes were steady, piercing his green eyes, as though trying to read something he wasn¡¯t saying. Eddie felt a strange knot tighten in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words stuck in his throat.


    Then, with a deep breath, he smiled¡ªa soft, forced thing that didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes.


    ¡°No,¡± Eddie said quietly, his voice almost lost in the air between them. ¡°Keep it. It¡¯s better suited for you than me.¡±


    Torrie¡¯s brows furrowed, a flash of confusion in her expression. She didn¡¯t argue, as if accepting the weight of his decision. Slowly, she closed her fingers around the ring once more, her grip firm and determined.


    Eddie gave her one last glance, a final, fleeting look that held everything they both left unsaid, then turned away, slipping out the door and into the early morning light.


    He walked, his steps quick and purposeful, as if the moment with Torrie had never happened. As he passed the familiar sights of Weshaven, his thoughts shifted back to his routine¡ªThe Apothecary, his work, the things that didn¡¯t ask him to explain anything.


    The weight of the ring was no longer in his pocket, but he could still feel it, a reminder he had left behind.


    And just like that, he lost himself in the rhythm of his day.

 The Alamirian Merchants

    <blockquote>


    ¡°The artefact¡¯s legacy, it¡¯s ability to transfer objects in vast distances... we must study it. This is an opportunity we cannot miss.¡±


    </blockquote>


    The day blurred in dull monotony, Eddie would fill in orders of medicines and remedies, extract ingredients and stock up the stock, then close the shop, it was always been like that since a few years ago, the same routine, the same activities each day.


    That evening, the glass front door of Welton¡¯s Apothecary clicked shut, the chime of the bell on top of the door sounded as Eddie closed it.


    ¡°What do you mean you¡¯re not going to the Swordfish Pub?¡± Eddie asked Markus,


    ¡°Sorry Ed,¡± Markus sighed, ¡°My ol¡¯ man needed help with his back muscles, I gotta help him out.¡±


    ¡°Well alright then, that couldn¡¯t be helped.¡± Eddie said,


    ¡°That being said, you¡¯ve gotta lessen your liquor, you know how much Mrs. Welton doesn¡¯t like the smell of it.¡±


    ¡°She can dislike it all she want.¡± Eddie chuckled, ¡°See you tomorrow, Markus!¡±


    As Markus started walking the opposite way, he gave Eddie a faint wave as his silhouette swollen by the depression of the road down the hill.


    It was just him now, the cold evening air breezed through him, it was cold as usual, seagulls¡¯ cries in the distance and the howling of the sea wind passes through.


    With a sigh, Eddie headed toward the street, its sparse bustle hinting at the end of the workday.


    -o-


    The sign bearing the name Swordfish Pub swayed in the sea breeze as Eddie neared the pub, Fishermen, Merchants, and all sorts of people began to gather to cool off in the evening, including Eddie.


    He opened the door, and entered the welcoming yet warm chaos within.


    Wood-panelled walls adorned with fishing nets surrounds him. Mounted fish and faded nautical charts decorated its walls. Roaring fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the bustling room. A comforting wave of grilled fish and strong ale washed over him.


    ¡°Well well, if it ain¡¯t the young Welton!¡± the barman said as Eddie neared the counter, wiping a tankard by the bar. ¡°Come to bless us with your wisdom on herbs and potions, aye?¡±


    ¡°More like blessing myself with a pint.¡± Eddie chuckled as he heaved up to the stool.


    ¡°The usual then, Edward?¡± The barman smiled


    ¡°You know me,¡± Eddie chuckled,


    The barman then took the tankard, filled it with a pint and set it down in front of Eddie, ¡°Here you go.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°Hard day at the shop?¡±


    ¡°Something like that.¡± Eddie said, putting his tankard down.


    ¡°You can always talk to me about that kinda stuff you know, Edward. It makes it weight less on your mind!¡±


    ¡°What are you? My therapist?¡± Eddie chuckled


    ¡°My fees are cheaper than the therapist.¡±


    Eddie laughed, ¡°Yeah sure, I¡¯ll make sure to ring you up the next time I am in a sort of crisis.¡±


    The barman laughed, The barkeep chuckled, but the sound was cut short as another patron waved him over. ¡°Duty calls. I¡¯ll see ya later, Welton,¡± he said, setting the clean mug aside and heading to the other end of the bar.


    Eddie was left with his drink. He stared into the amber coloured liquid for a moment. Letting the pub¡¯s ambience fill his ears¡ªthe murmur of conversations, the occasional clink of tankards, and the crackle of the fire.


    Then, his attention was caught by a voice. Its rhythm sharp and musical. But layered with an unfamiliar guttural quality. Eddie¡¯s attention peaked; the tone familiar, though he couldn¡¯t remember it.


    Turning his seat, he looked around, scanning the room. Maybe it¡¯s Lydia? Or someone he knows, but then, his eyes landed on a figure seated at a corner table.


    The figure¡¯s sharp, pointed ears were a dead giveaway; Eddie knew instantly who it was.


    It was Catherine.


    Her figure is leaning forward. Her apple-red hair caught the lantern light. Her sharp, pointed ears made a silhouette distinguishing that she is an Elf. She speaks in rapid bursts of a foreign tongue Eddie didn¡¯t recognise. Opposite her sat three merchants, their attire adorned with intricate patterns and jewellery that marked them as travellers from distant lands. On the table between them lay a worn, yellowed map, its edges curled and frayed.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    What the hell is Catherine doing here? In his usual pub? And what the hell is she doing with those merchants? Is she selling something? Buying something? Didn¡¯t she go with his mother earlier this morning?


    The merchants were speaking now, their voices hushed. Catherine¡¯s response was fluent, her voice low and measured. Eddie could barely follow, but a few phrases in the common tongue broke through, and from Eddie¡¯s old lesson in Alamirian language, it began to slowly be pieced together, like fragments of a puzzle:


    ¡°...the Artefact of the Nightingale Dragon...¡±


    Eddie¡¯s curiosity flared. Quietly, he picked up his tankard and moved to a table a few feet behind her. He moves, taking care not to draw attention to himself. He leaned back, feigning a casual demeanour as he sipped his drink, his ears straining to catch the conversation.


    The merchants leaned closer to Catherine, one gesturing toward the map.


    ¡°We will pay you whatever you ask,¡± the man said.


    ¡°The artefact¡¯s legacy, it¡¯s ability to transfer objects in vast distances... we must study it. This is an opportunity we cannot miss.¡±


    Catherine tilted her head, her expression unreadable as she considered their words.


    One of the merchants chuckled. ¡°Study, leverage¡ªit¡¯s all the same in the right hands.


    You know where it is, and we have the means to recover it. Name your price, Katarina.¡±


    Eddie¡¯s thoughts churned. Why was Catherine speaking to these merchants about such dangerous things? And why hadn¡¯t she mentioned any of this before?


    Catherine leaned back in her chair, her fingers drumming on the table. ¡°If I agree,¡± she said slowly, ¡°You pay me upfront. No games, no bargaining.¡±


    ¡°Done,¡± the merchant said without hesitation.


    Catherine then rose from her seat, her movements quick and light as she folded the map and tucked it into her sash inside her coat.


    The merchants nodded in satisfaction. One of them counted out a small pouch of coins and slid it across the table.


    ¡°Thanks for the deal!¡± Catherine said, her expression triumphant¡ªlike a child who had just been handed a hefty allowance.


    She left the table with a spring in her step, dodging the crowded pub toward the door. On her way, she tossed a few coins onto the bar, calling out a quick thanks to the barkeep.


    Eddie¡¯s heart raced as she approached. He sank deeper into his chair, his body to remain hidden in the pub¡¯s dim lighting. The flicker of a gas lamp threw shadows across his face, and he held his breath as she passed mere feet away.


    She didn¡¯t notice him. The door swung shut behind her with a soft creak, and Eddie exhaled, relief washing over him.


    The merchants remained at their table. They are deep in conversation, their voices slipping back into their native tongue. So many questions had popped inside Eddie, who were Catherine talking to? What is she doing here? And most importantly, what does she have to do with The Nightingale Dragon?


    Maybe It¡¯s a conversation for another day, Eddie wasn¡¯t supposed to hear about this anyway, it was Catherine¡¯s business, he shouldn¡¯t pry. Eddie relaxed, taking another sip from his tankard,


    But then¡ª


    ¡°Were you listening, boy?¡±


    Their voice cut through the bustling pub with a pierce thick with an unfamiliar accent. Eddie froze, his drink halfway to his lips, his eyes shooting toward the source, it was the merchant.


    One of the merchants had turned in his seat, his piercing gaze locked on Eddie. He was the eldest of the group, his grizzled beard streaked with silver and his eyes sharp as a hawk¡¯s.


    ¡°What did you hear?¡± He continued


    ¡°What are you doing, brother?¡± The other one called, ¡°Leave the boy alone will you?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± He said, ¡°He is eavesdropping, he listened to confidential client conversations.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± his tone changes, ¡°For how long?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know,¡± The eldest continued, ¡°That is what I want to find out.¡±


    After that word, other two merchants followed. Their expressions shifted from joviality into a serious one as they joined the first, moving to stand in front of Eddie¡¯s table.


    Together, they loomed over him. Their faces were half-shrouded by the flickering light of the gas lamp above. Eddie sat in shadow, trapped under their watchful eyes.


    ¡°Look, I¡ªI wasn¡¯t¡ª¡± Eddie stammered, his mind scrambling for an excuse.


    ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me, boy.¡± The eldest merchant leaned closer, his tone low and menacing. ¡°How long were you listening? What did you hear?¡±


    ¡°N-no, I wasn¡¯t listening, I¡ªI¡¯m just here for a drink,¡± he stammered, his eyes darting between the men.


    ¡°Liar,¡± the second merchant hissed.


    Eddie¡¯s hand patted against his jacket pocket. Then the next, and the next, his fingers patting each in turn as if searching for a lifeline. Nothing. He moved to the inner pocket. Still nothing.


    Then¡ªhis pants pocket. His heart skipped a beat. There it was. A wand.


    Torrie¡¯s wand.


    How did he still have it? He had meant to give it back earlier this morning, but with Markus coming in and everything else, it must¡¯ve slipped his mind. His fingers curled around it instinctively.


    The fishermen at the bar let out a booming laugh, the sound breaking briefly through Eddie¡¯s rising panic, Indifferent to his danger.


    Eddie glanced around the room, eyes landing on a table a few feet away. A bottle of something dark and potent sat precariously close to the edge. Right beside the burly, tattooed fisherman who had just been served.


    Bingo, Eddie thought, a carbonated drink.


    Eddie¡¯s eyes darted back to the merchants. Their intent was clear.


    No more time to think, he got to act fast.


    Eddie took the wand out from his pocket, and pointed it to the bottle just behind the merchant,


    He focused on the bottle, he tried to remember his old lessons, stages of alchemical transmutation. Nigredo, Albedo, CItrinitas, then Rubedo¡­ All of it, he imagined the carbonated drink to bubble up, and spurt, that will give him an opening to escape!


    With a swift flick of Torrie¡¯s wand hidden beneath the table. He triggered the stages of transformation, shifting the bottle¡¯s integrity.


    But instead of the carbonated drink to spurt, the bottle shattered with a loud crack. It sends a spray of carbonated drink, sugar, and glass shards across the burly fisherman¡¯s chest and face. The man shot to his feet with a roar, his chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor.


    ¡°Oi! What the fuck?!¡± the fisherman snarled, rising to his feet. His chair scraped loudly against the floor, drawing the attention of his companions.


    The merchant with the staff barely had time to react. The fisherman¡¯s massive fist collided with his shoulder. Sending him stumbling into the second merchant.


    The scimitar-wielder tried to draw his blade. But another fisherman tackled him, his thick arms locking around the merchant¡¯s waist.


    The third merchant routed, trying but barely escaping the chaos.


    But alas, Chaos erupted.


    The pub filled with the sounds of shouting, breaking chairs, and clattering glass. Other fishermen joined in, eager for an excuse to throw a punch. The merchants, caught off guard, scrambled to defend themselves.


    Eddie slid his chair back quietly, sinking deeper into the shadows. The commotion provided the perfect cover.


    As fists flew and tables overturned, he clutched the wand tightly in his hand and edged toward the door.


    Eddie slipped out of the pub and into the cool night air, the sounds of the brawl fading behind him. His heart pounded in his chest as he shoved Torrie¡¯s wand back into his pocket.

 The Offer

    <blockquote>


    ¡°Of course you''re not, you never will be. You don¡¯t have to be that kid... You just need to be you.¡±


    </blockquote>


    His breath is still rugged as he panted, he took a long deep breath.


    He stood beneath the dim lights of the gas lamps, his breath still heavy from the adrenaline of the brawl.


    He looked down at the wand in his hand, a mixture of disbelief and relief flooding through him. The smooth, slender stick of wood had pulled him out of yet another mess¡ªa mess that could¡¯ve ended with him face down in the wooden floorboards.


    He chuckled to himself, the sound almost incredulous. Alchemy, he thought, had just saved his skin.


    ¡°God damn it,¡± he muttered under his breath, ¡°I could never fucking escape using you, huh.¡± grinning to himself.


    ¡°Nice feeling, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    A voice called out, cutting through Eddie¡¯s reverie. He spun around, his heart giving an unexpected lurch. Standing in the shadows, her figure framed by the lamplight,


    Catherine stood in the alleyway. Her lips curled into a teasing smile as she stepped forward, illuminated by the gas lamps, her eyes gleaming with amusement.


    ¡°You know, the Alamirian Merchants are right about one thing. Eavesdropping isn¡¯t exactly the most polite thing, Edward.¡± she said, her voice light and playful, her tone teasing.


    Eddie blinked. Of course, he thought. She was always a step ahead.


    ¡°Come,¡± she said, stepping closer. ¡°Let¡¯s get away from this mess.¡±


    Eddie glanced back at the ruckus now spilling out of the pub door. The sounds of shouting and scuffling still echoed through the streets.


    He let out a long breath and pocketed Torrie¡¯s school-issued wand into his pants pocket.


    ¡°Sure,¡± he replied with a reluctant sigh. ¡°I could use a walk.¡±


    With a graceful turn, Catherine began walking down the street.


    Eddie followed.


    -o-


    As they walked, the streets seemed quieter now. Save for the distant clink of metal and breaking wood from the pub¡¯s brawl muffled behind them.


    Catherine, however, seemed to be deep in thought. After a while, she broke the quiet.


    ¡°Do you remember that day at the dining table when I first arrived?¡±If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Vaguely,¡± he replied.


    ¡°You said you were working on something."


    "Yeah."


    "You are working for your advanced magical education in the Universities,¡± she continued.


    "Yeah, I am," Eddie lied.


    ¡°And when I asked if you were considering applying for the Sage¡¯s Institute Scholarship, you said yes.¡±


    "Yeah, I am." Eddie continued his lie.


    ¡°But you¡¯re not, are you, Edward?¡± She continued,


    Eddie stopped his track, the wind continues to howl, there is no point in hiding it anymore


    "Yeah," Eddie said, admitting the truth


    ¡°Why lie?" Catherine stopped, looked back towards Eddie, her voice soft, "I know you have so much ambition for Alchemy, but now you act like it¡¯s something to run from.¡±


    Eddie froze, his jaw tightened. He couldn¡¯t do this¡ªnot with Catherine, not now. She was pressing on a wound he wasn¡¯t ready to open.


    But Catherine wasn¡¯t about to let it go. She had always been the type to ask the hard questions, to dig until she found the truth, unlike him, she is an Alchemist, a real Alchemist, and like an Alchemist she will dig the truth.


    ¡°I might not be around by the time you enrolled in Aella Academy,¡± Catherine said, her voice gentle but insistent. ¡°But I was around when you¡¯re so passionate about your first transmutation, when you¡¯re going to ruins and dungeons retracing the steps of famous Alchemists, when you said you wanted to go to Edenfield University to become an Alchemist.¡±


    ¡°You used to be so passionate about Alchemy.  What happened?¡± Her eyes searched his face, hoping to understand the change she couldn¡¯t quite place.


    He couldn¡¯t tell her. He couldn¡¯t tell anyone.


    ¡°Fifteen years, Eddie.¡± Catherine¡¯s voice broke through his spiralling thoughts, ¡°Fifteen years is nothing for someone like me. But for you... for you, I know it must have felt like a lifetime. Something happened to you during those years I was gone, something that changes you.¡±


    He kept his gaze forward, avoiding Catherine''s eyes; the words swirling in his mind but not forming on his tongue. How could he explain the loss, the guilt, the fear? How could he explain the day he had ruined his life¡ªand someone else¡¯s¡ªforever?


    He still couldn¡¯t tell her. He still couldn¡¯t tell anyone.


    Finally, she sighed. ¡°Look, I¡¯m not going to pretend I understand what happened to you, because I certainly don¡¯t. But I do know that you¡¯ve changed.¡±


    ¡°And not in a good way.¡± Catherine continued, ¡°You¡¯re not the person I knew, you¡¯re not the person Torrie knew. You¡¯ve built up walls around yourself, and from what I¡¯ve seen, it¡¯s tearing you apart.¡±


    ¡°Then what do you want me to do?¡± Eddie asked, chuckling sarcastically, his voice low, his eyes finally meeting hers. ¡°Do you want me just to get back to it? Pick it up again like nothing happened?¡±


    Catherine stood there for a moment,


    ¡°I wish, but i know it¡¯s not that simple, is it?¡± Her gaze steady, and then she gave him a small, determined smile. ¡°So I¡¯m offering you something different.¡±


    Catherine stood there, the wind blows her short apple-red hair, her red coat flutters in the cold evening breeze like a flag of declaration, the silhouette of her sharp elven ear made the whole scene felt like a fairy tale. She then looked at Eddie''s eyes, raised her hand, and pointed it straight at his face.


    ¡°I¡¯m offering you an adventure,¡±


    Eddie blinked, chuckled slightly in confusion. ¡°What? What are you talking about?"


    "I''m offering you an Adventure for you to be a part of." Catherine said, her voice steady and firm. ¡°There¡¯s an Artefact hidden deep within the illusory forest of The Deep Glaive. I could use a fellow Alchemist like you." She smiled, "It''ll be like the old days, isn''t it?¡±


    ¡°A fellow, is a hard stretch don¡¯t you think?¡± Eddie chuckled, his face sombre, ¡°It can''t be like the old days, you know? I¡¯m not that kid anymore, Catherine,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I can¡¯t be that kid.¡±


    ¡°Of course you''re not, you''ll never will be. You don¡¯t have to be that kid.¡± Catherine¡¯s light blue eyes stared at his with piercing gaze.


    ¡°You just need to be you.¡±


    Eddie looked into her eyes, seeing the earnestness in her gaze. An invitation, a chance to leave behind his regrets and step back into something larger than himself.


    He didn¡¯t have an answer right away. But in the silence that followed, he knew one thing:


    Catherine wasn¡¯t going to let him walk away from this, not that easily. Not when she knew something about him.

 The Puppet Show

    <blockquote>


    "You just need to be you."


    </blockquote>


    The breeze continues to blow despite his raging thought. Eddie let out a long sigh, the mist of his breath flutters in the cold evening air as he did so. He walked down the uneven cobblestones of the harbour road. The faint murmur of waves lapping against the pier faded behind him, leaving just the smooth cadence of his feet on the sidewalk. Above, the moon stood high, throwing a weak reflection on Weshaven''s damp roads.


    Catherine is already nowhere to be gound, in her usual manner. One minute she was at his side, her words pierced something within him he hadn''t felt in years, giving him the existential crisis of a lifetime; the next, she was gone, as if nothing had just happened.


    Eddie walked, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets, his breath formed a mist everything he sighed. Catherine''s words remained in his memory, playing over and over like a broken record.


    What happened to you?


    Eddie still didn''t want to acknowledge how deeply the question had pierced him. He remembered her face, how uncharacteristically serious it looked. How seriously dejected it looked, and how within all of that, how concerned it looked.


    As he moved through the streets, the distant noises of the port gave way to the faint echoes of excited conversation and laughing. Eddie stopped as he rounded a corner.


    On the town square of Mariner¡¯s Ranch stood a little, old carriage with brightly fading paint on its sides that depicted legendary heroes and mythological animals. A banner with the words "Vandruff¡¯s Travelling Tales" in gold calligraphy was draped over its front; the wording faintly reflected the light from a nearby street lamps.


    Eddie stood still. He had grown up loving evenings like these, when storytellers from different lands would bring their tales to this little hamlet called Weshaven. Knights would fight monsters and tricksters outwitted monarchs.


    He remembered back when he was a kid, pushing his way to the front row, with all eyes fixed on the little stage. Back then he still believed in knights defeating the dragons, Back then he still believed in happy endings. Back then, the world beyond the stage was irrelevant for a few mere seconds as he watched these tales unfold.


    However, it was years ago, when he was someone different, someone who could lose himself in heroic and adventurous stories without thinking twice.


    You just need to be you.


    The words continues to repeat in his minds, their simplicity belying the weight they contained. Now, what does that even mean? Who was "him" ? The Eddie she recalled? Before everything went wrong, was he the Eddie he was?


    ¡°Thank you! Dear audience!¡± Announced the Puppet Master, ¡°The next tale, is The Dragon of Groville!¡±


    Eddie was startled out of his reverie by the children''s quiet laughter. To the joy of the audience, one of the puppets¡ªa cunning fox, apparently¡ªhad taken the knight''s sword and was bouncing about the stage. Despite his advanced age, the puppet master''s motions were vibrant as he laughed with them.


    Eddie remembered how he was used to be one of those children, laughing and having the time of his life.


    He remembered what he told Catherine a while before, how he wasn¡¯t that kid anymore. How he had grown, how he had lost his passion.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    Well, let¡¯s see whether that little Eddie was still there somewhere. Eddie thought to himself.


    Before he could second-guess himself, Eddie walked up to the booth.


    The ticket booth near the carriage had the words "Admission: 2 Coppers" written on it. He dug into his pocket, his fingers brushing against a few coins.


    It was ridiculous, a somewhat inebriated, unkempt man purchasing a ticket to a puppet show. But the thought of sitting in the warm glow of the lanterns, surrounded by stories, felt like a tether to a simpler time, back when he was still a kid, back when that kid was still alive.


    The vendor handed him a small red ticket in exchange for the coins. Eddie muttered a quick thanks before slipping into the small gathering.


    The children¡¯s laughter drowned him out as he settled at the back, their chatter a vibrant wall of sound. His dark coat and weathered boots made him stand out against the cheerful patchwork of colourful scarves and jackets the children wore.


    Over the little stage, which was embellished with painted stars, trees, and a bright moon, the lanterns created a lovely, flickering light. A wiry old guy with a sparkle in his eye, the puppeteer emerged and opened the play with a theatrical flourish.


    ¡°Now! Onto the next tale! Gather thee close, good folk,¡± the puppeteer intoned, his voice deep and inviting, ¡°And hearken thee to a tale of old¡ªa tale of valour, cunning, and the strength of noble hearts. ¡®Tis the story of Groville, a village fair, and the fearsome foe known as the Nightingale Dragon!¡±


    Eddie leaned back. As the stage came alive with colourful puppets, he couldn¡¯t help but feel the nostalgia seeping in.


    The puppeteer brought out the Groville puppet, a cheerful little village bustling with tiny puppet villagers: ¡°Behold, a day most fair and bounteous!¡±


    The puppeteer introduced the puppet of The Alchemist next, a regal figure robed in Red. ¡°Stand ye strong, good folk!¡± the old man declared in a commanding voice, the puppet raising its glowing staff. ¡°Together shall we face this darkness, and ne¡¯er shall we let it consume our light!¡±


    Eddie¡¯s smile faded as the story unfolded. The Alchemist couldn¡¯t fight the Nightingale Dragon alone; she needed the help of others¡ªa cunning Witch and a valiant Bard. The puppets joined forces, their combined strengths weaving a glowing barrier around the village.


    The battle was fierce, the air heavy with the Dragon''s fiery wrath and the trio¡¯s resolve. Intently, Eddie watched, the children¡¯s eager sounds receding.


    ¡°Thou shalt harm no more, vile beast!¡± The Alchemist cried. ¡°By this bond of light, shadow, and song, I banish thee to the deep forest, where none may find thee!¡±


    The Dragon puppet was drawn into the shadowy forest, its flames extinguished. The village erupted in cheers as the puppeteer guided the tiny villagers into a jubilant dance.


    ¡°And so, my friends,¡± the puppeteer said, his voice solemn now, ¡°remember this tale well. True strength is not in power or might, but in courage, wisdom, and the bonds we share. Let thy hearts be brave, thy spirits steadfast, and thy light unyielding.¡±


    As the puppets took a bow and the curtain closed, the children¡¯s enthusiastic clapping and laughter filled the air. Eddie sat unmoving, the storyteller¡¯s words echoing in his head. True strength is in the bonds we share.


    The children cheered, their applause echoing in the night as the old puppet master took a bow, his smile as warm as the lantern light. Eddie clapped too, though his hands moved slowly, the sound almost drowned out by the surrounding kids.


    Back then, he¡¯d believed in happy endings.


    The children leaned forward, their wide eyes reflecting the warm glow of the lanterns. Eddie stayed where he was, his head bowed slightly.


    Courage, Wisdom, and Bonds.


    The words twisting in his chest. Catherine¡¯s voice echoed in his mind, her words overlapping with the puppet master¡¯s. What happened to you? You just need to be you.


    But who was he now? A stranger sitting among children, trying to grasp at a piece of his past that no longer fit. He could laugh at the absurdity of it all if it didn¡¯t hurt so much.


    As the crowd began to disperse, Eddie lingered in his seat, watching the children scamper off with their parents, their laughter filling the air.


    Eddie stood and brushed the dust from his coat. The streets felt quieter now, the cold breeze of the night settling in again.


    He shoved his hands into his pockets, The breeze continues to blow despite his raging thought. Eddie let out a long sigh, the mist of his breath flutters in the cold evening air as he did so. He walked down the uneven cobblestones of the harbour road. His footsteps echoing as he made his way back to the apothecary.

 First Step

    <blockquote>


    ¡°Look, Catherine. It¡¯s different, she¡¯s different!¡±


    </blockquote>


    A couple of days had passed since that night, it is Sunday morning now, despite that fact, the word from Catherine still hadn¡¯t left Eddie¡¯s mind at all, it kept spinning, and playing like a broken record in his mind, mocking him in his futile attempt at hiding his passion for Alchemy.


    The living room of the Welton¡¯s household is cozy today, the low table cluttered with herbs and parchments. The warm morning lights casts a ray of sunshine shimmering through between the curtains, casting onto the mismatched furniture where Eddie sat.


    Torrie sat across from him sprawling on the carpet, her legs kicking as she flipped through her notebook, her wand resting on top of her ears as she flipped through her notes.


    ¡°So,¡± She said, breaking the silence, ¡°You were at Vandruff¡¯s Travelling Puppet Show last night, weren¡¯t you, Eddie?¡± Torrie teased, her voice was sing-song in tone.


    ¡°What? No! Of course not!¡± Eddie countered, ¡°What makes you think that?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know.¡± Torrie¡¯s smirk widened, ¡°Maybe because my classmate¡¯s brother who worked part-time as a ticket seller with Mr. Vandruff said he saw someone with a dishevelled silver hair sitting in the back row, looking all serious and broody. It was nothing he had ever seen before! An adult in a kid¡¯s travelling puppet show! Sounds familliar?¡± She continued her tease, her grin widening.


    Eddie groaned, covering his face with Torrie¡¯s Alchemy Textbook, his groan muffled. ¡°Look, there are plenty of people with dishevelled silver hair who enjoy puppet shows, alright? Leave them alone!¡± he muttered, the sound still muffled by his textbook.


    Torrie laughed, her legs kicking before she sat up, ¡°Oh come on, Eddie! You¡¯re a terrible liar! You¡¯ve got that look, you know? Just admit you¡¯ve been there!¡±


    ¡°Look,¡± Eddie shot back, putting down the textbook that has been hiding his face, ¡°Do you want help with your homework or not? If not, I¡¯ve got better things to do.¡±


    Her laughter softened into a giggle, ¡°Fine, fine. But seriously, what¡¯s so bad about going to a puppet show anyway? They¡¯re so fun!¡±


    Eddie lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair¡ªan unintentional act that only made it messier. ¡°It¡¯s not about that, Torrie. It¡¯s just¡­ you know what, never mind. Let¡¯s focus on your homework, okay?¡±


    ¡°Alright then, grumpy.¡± Torrie said with a mock pout, then joined Eddie on the low table.


    But before Eddie could start working on the first assignment, the front door opened, he had expected it to be his father coming home early from shopping for ingredients, but as the front door opens, it was someone he didn¡¯t expect.


    It was Markus.


    Eddie glanced up, clearly puzzled. It was Sunday morning¡ªMarkus isn''t supposed to be working today. His expression softened as Markus set down a small bag of supplies and adjusted his jacket.


    ¡°Oh hey Markus.¡± Eddie greeted, slightly raising an eyebrow, ¡°What¡¯s going on? It¡¯s Sunday, you¡¯re supposed to be on break, right? Or were you transferred to weekend shift or something?¡±


    ¡°Oh hey Eddie,¡± Markus greeted back sheepishly, ¡°Sorry I forgot to give you a heads up.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± Eddie chuckled, ¡°What¡¯s on your mind today? You wanna help Torrie with her homework with me?¡±


    ¡°Oh no, I¡¯m good, I¡¯m not really good with that stuff.¡± Markus said, settling on the chair by the door, ¡°The Elf lady called me yesterday, saying that she needed me for something, willing to give me something for the trouble too! Generous, right?¡±This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°Oh wow, that¡¯s interesting--¡± But something caught Eddie¡¯s attention, a discrepancy.


    ¡°Wait¡­ Elf Lady?¡± Eddie blinked, ¡°What Elf Lady?¡±


    ¡°You know¡­ Man, I forgot her name, but red hair? Short? Red coat? She almost wear all-red now that you mention it.¡±


    ¡°Wait¡­¡± Eddie tries to dig his brains for faces, ¡°Catherine?¡±


    ¡°Yes! That¡¯s the one, the Catherine fellow called me.¡±


    ¡°What the bloody hell does Catherine wants with you, Markus?¡± Eddie said, puzzled, ¡°Hope she didn¡¯t tangle you in her shady businesses, She¡¯s a pretty shady person if you can see through her wacky personality.¡±


    ¡°Oh, nothing shady, but she mentions something about an Adventure, though.¡±


    Eddie¡¯s heart drops, an Adventure¡­ wait¡­ does this mean¡­


    ¡°No, no, no¡­¡± Eddie muttered under his breath, ¡°Are you sure she said adventure? She can¡¯t be that vague right?¡±


    ¡°Well, she is pretty vague, but I¡¯m sure-¡°


    ¡°Wait, Markus?¡± Torrie interjected, ¡°Did Aunt Catherine invite you too?! She was gathering a party to go on an epic adventure to the woods! She said I can come by!¡±


    Wait, wait, wait. Eddie thought, his mind beginning to spiral.


    ¡°Wait, Torrie. What are you talking about?¡± Eddie said


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you know, Eddie? Aunt Catherine is gathering an adventure party!¡±


    But before Eddie could respond, the door opened once more, he couldn¡¯t make of the face at first due to the bright morning light, but from the silhouette it was clear. Short hair, and sharp, elven ear.


    It was Catherine


    ¡°Mornin¡¯ everyone!¡± She chirped, "Well, I see everyone is here," she continued, setting down the bags of grocery on the low table. She turned to Eddie with a teasing glint in her eye. "What''s all this fuss about?"


    ¡°Catherine, you¡¯ve gotta address something for me.¡± Eddie said sternly, his face is a mix of confusion and frustration, ¡°What the hell is going on. Why is Markus clocking in on a Sunday morning, and most importantly. Why are you involving my fucking sister into this?¡±


    ¡°Language, Eddie!¡± Torrie shouted from the low table.


    ¡°Well, firstly.¡± Catherine said, her tone is matter-factly, ¡°I said a few days ago, right? I was planning an excursion to the Deep Glaive. It wouldn¡¯t be a balanced party if was just two Alchemists isn¡¯t it? So I decided to recruit more!¡±


    ¡°You what?!¡± Eddie shouted, standing abruptly. Textbooks pens and notebook falling down to the low table.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Ed?! She said it will be an exciting adventure! There¡¯s nothing wrong with it!¡± Torrie plead


    ¡°Look, there is so many things wrong with this, Torrie. Firstly, you are involved! Do you know how dangerous this is?!¡±


    ¡°Oh, I think you¡¯re overthinking this, Edward.¡± Catherine said, brushing off her hands in front of her face, ¡°It¡¯ll be just a little adventure! A bit of detour, if you will. I mean- come on, you were exploring an even more dangerous dungeons when you were her age!¡±


    ¡°Look, Catherine. It¡¯s different, she¡¯s different!¡±


    ¡°She¡¯ll be fine.¡± Catherine said, ¡°It¡¯ll be like the old times!¡±


    Eddie''s heart sank. He looked at his little sister, who was still so young, so eager to prove herself. He glanced at Catherine, the woman who had once been his mentor and aunt, now standing so confidently before him, acting like nothing was wrong.


    He opened his mouth to argue again, but then he turned to his mother, Alyssa Welton. Who just entered to the kitchen across the room, hoping for some sense. "Mom!" he called out, his voice tinged with frustration. "Are you listening? Are you okay with this? Why isn''t anyone thinking straight about this?"


    Alyssa, who had been arranging the groceries Catherine just bought, turned around, her expression warm but unreadable. "I trust Catherine. She''s always been dependable in her way. She gets you in and out of dungeons in the past, although I can argue all I want, I know she¡¯ll find her way to get you guys out. Let¡¯s just say if she''s confident, this will work out, I believe her."


    Eddie stared at her. "You believe her? Just like that? What happened to thinking things through? What happened to being cautious?"


    Alyssa smiled softly as she took out a carrot out of the grocery bag and putting it on the chopping board, ¡°Eddie, sometimes you have to trust people and take a leap. You haven¡¯t gone to adventures like these since Alfred goes to the army haven¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°In fact,¡± She continued, her chopping sounded harder against the carrots.


    ¡°If anything happens to any of you..¡±


    Chop,


    ¡°I can just hold a certain Elf accountable can I?¡±


    Another chop,


    Catherine lets out a deep gulp, ¡°Y-you heard your mother, Edward.¡± She said, ¡°I¡¯ll make sure to keep you guys safe!¡±


    Alyssa¡¯s chopping began to soften again, ¡°If you are going, Eddie. You''d better get prepared. You should have your things ready in the garage."


    Eddie felt a sharp sting in his chest. Was his mother, the one who always kept a careful eye on things, saying this? He wasn''t sure if it was reassuring or terrifying. His mind was still racing, caught between his fears and the urge to protect his family from the reckless dangers that seemed spiralling out of control.


    He clenched his fists, turning to Catherine again. "Fine," he said gritting his teeth.

 The Rifle

    <blockquote>


    ¡°Eddie gave the ring to me... I¡¯ll be using the ring.¡±


    </blockquote>


    The door towards the garage creaked open, the lights from the main room streaked through as Eddie paced his way inside.


    The garage was dimly lit, the only light coming from a small lantern hanging above the workbench. It smelt of old wood, tools and equipment lined the walls. A rusty beaten-down car sat on the corner, the automobile definitely hadn¡¯t ran for ages.


    "This is ridiculous," Eddie muttered under his breath. His fingers ran over bandoliers, satchels, and tools he hadn''t touched in years.


    Eddie¡¯s eyes landed on one particular satchel with a keychain bearing the Aella Academy emblem on it, a worn leather satchel that he hasn¡¯t touched in years.


    He took the satchel and opened it.


    He adjusted the straps of a worn leather satchel. "An illusory forest," he scoffed. "Because, sure, Catherine, that¡¯s exactly where I want to take Torrie. Nothing says ''quality family time'' like trudging through a place that¡¯s basically a trap pretending to be nature. Brilliant idea."


    His hands moved faster now, checking the buckles.


    "And she just assumes we¡¯ll be fine. No map, no plan, just a wave of her hand and a ''Oh, it¡¯ll be fine! It''s perfectly safe!'' Perfectly safe, my arse. Since when is anywhere safe when it¡¯s been illusory forest to confuse you, lure you into dead ends, or worse? What next? A quick detour into a cave full of angry wyverns? Maybe invite the bloody thing for tea while we¡¯re at it?"


    The lantern above him swayed slightly, casting jittery shadows on the walls as his agitation grew.


    He exhaled sharply, the sound halfway between a sigh and a growl, and raked his fingers through his hair. "Ridiculous. Absolutely, unequivocally ridiculous."


    The satchel finally settled into place with a heavy thud, and he reached for a pair of gloves, inspecting them for wear.


    As the heavy door creaked open, Eddie spun around, expecting Catherine or, worse, Torrie coming to ask some inane question about how much longer he was going to be.


    Instead, it was Mr. Robert Welton, his father.


    ¡°Oh hey there, Son.¡± Robert chuckled, on his sides are satchels filled with alchemical ingredients, he goes to one of the workbench and settle it down, it settles with a very heavy thud. He then looked at Eddie, ¡°What¡¯re you up to?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just¡­¡± Eddie said, his hands scraping the leather of his satchel, ¡°Catherine.¡±


    ¡°Catherine?¡± Robert raised his eyebrow. ¡°Oh are you two going to your little adventures like the old times?¡±


    ¡°Well, maybe a little is an understatement.¡± Eddie chuckled, leaning to one of the workbench, ¡°She also invited Torrie and Markus.¡±


    ¡°A big party?¡± Robert whistled, walking towards Eddie and pats him in the back ¡°You guys got a big adventure ahead of ya!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I suppose we are.¡± Eddie chuckled


    ¡°Stay safe, son.¡± Robert finally said


    Eddie then puts his satchel on, and walked towards the door, glancing back to reply.


    ¡°I will, dad.¡± Eddie said. But before he could turn and twist it.


    ¡°Eddie.¡± Robert called


    ¡°Yes, dad?¡±


    ¡°Are you going to take your ring with you?¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Eddie stood there, looking below.


    ¡°No, I gave the ring to Torrie years ago.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Robert said, his expression becoming more sombre, ¡°Then come here for a sec.¡±


    Eddie then walked from the door, joining his father on the workbench.


    ¡°It should be somewhere around here¡­¡± Robert said, rummaging through his chest, taking out all sort of tools, hammers, fishing rods, axes, until...


    ¡°Ah, there she is!¡± Robert said in glee, and from the chest, there is a Flintlock Rifle.


    ¡°Alfred¡¯s gun?¡± Eddie said, raising his eyebrow.


    ¡°My gun, before I gave this to Alfred, and since he is away overseas nobody has used it ever since.¡± Robert said.


    ¡°And what do you want me to do with it?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s see whether you still know how to use ¡®em.¡± He said, then tossing the rifle to Eddie, in which he catches it. ¡°Go on, do you still remember how to load the thing?¡±


    Eddie reached for a small metal ball from the other satchel without a word, loading the flintlock with practised ease. His movements were fluid and confident as if the muscle memory had never left him. He secured the powder, placed the ball in the barrel, and snapped the mechanism into place. When he finished, he looked up at his father.


    Robert smiled. "Alright, I suppose you still remember. I''d rather you take your ring with you, but if you insist on not using it, at least you can defend yourself. Now put the hammer down, Edward."


    Eddie puts the hammer down gently, then slinged Alfred¡¯s rifle on his back, then took the other satchel, containing gun powders and metal balls. "Yeah, I suppose so."


    There was a brief silence. Finally, Robert clapped his hand on Eddie''s shoulder, his grip firm. "Alright then. Be safe out there, Ed. Keep Torrie safe out there, alright?"


    Eddie met his father''s gaze, the flintlock resting comfortably at his back. "I will."


    As Eddie turned to leave, Robert watched him go, feeling the rifle''s weight in his back, Eddie turned the door. It wasn''t the same as carrying his usual ring, but perhaps that was the point. The door closed behind his father with a soft thud.


    -o-


    Eddie stepped out of the garage, Flintlock rifle slung across his back and two satchels secured at his sides, one leather, containing his personal stuff, the other is a canvas satchel, containing his ammunition. The morning air was cool, slightly obscured by the morning fog. Muted grey painted the sky. Outside, Catherine and Torrie stood near the low stone wall overlooking the sea, Catherine is leaning on the stone wall. Their figures bathed in the fading light.


    Torrie, her eyes wide with excitement, was practically bouncing on her heels as she bombarded Catherine with a flurry of questions about magic. Her silver-jade conduit ring bouncing on her metal chains on her neck as she talk.


    "Catherine, Catherine! Could you transmute copper into gas if you added enough heat and pressure? Or would it just destabilize like Eddie¡¯s brilliant idea last week? You know, the one that nearly made the whole living room smell like burnt coins for days?"


    "Well, Torrie, theoretically, yes, you could, but transmuting metals on that scale requires an extraordinary amount of precision¡ªfar more than most Alchemists can safely handle. And Eddie¡¯s experiment wasn¡¯t entirely off-base," she added with a faint smile.


    Markus, meanwhile, leaned casually against the stone wall. His gaze fixed on the sea as the waves gently lapped against the shore below. He looked up as Eddie approached.


    "All set, Ed?" Markus asked. Pushing himself off the wall.


    "Yeah," Eddie nodded, "I''m ready."


    As Eddie joined them, Catherine''s eyes were drawn immediately to the rifle on his back. Her brows furrowed in surprise. "Eddie, what is that?"


    ¡°Err... dad asked me to carry it.¡± Eddie said, straightening the flintlock on his back, ¡°For protections, of course.¡±


    ¡°Why not use your usual ring?¡± Catherine said


    Eddie stood there, ¡°I uhh,¡±


    ¡°Eddie gave the ring to me.¡± Torrie said, ¡°I¡¯ll be using the ring.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s a disappointment,¡± Catherine sighed. She studied him longer, searching for the boy she remembered in the man before her. "I see... Well, I suppose a bit of extra protection never hurt anyone."


    She then stepped closer, her scholarly curiosity piqued. "May I?" she asked, touching the rifle.


    Eddie quickly swatted her hand away, a playful smile tugging at his lips despite his tension. "No, can''t do, Ma''am. Dad said nobody else should touch it besides me and my brother Alfred."


    Catherine pouted. Folding her arms, sulking playfully. "Hmph, and here I thought I''d get to examine something new. Very well, I suppose I''ll just have to content myself with the mysteries of the Artefacts."


    Torrie giggled at the exchange, and even Markus couldn''t help but chuckle. Eddie shook his head, still smiling, as he adjusted the strap of his satchel.


    Catherine regained her usual demeanour, though a hint of amusement lingered in her eyes. "Alright, let''s get going. The Deep Glaive waits for no one."


    The group began to make their way down the path leading away from the house. Catherine walked at the front, her staff clicking rhythmically against the cobblestones. Torrie followed closely behind, practically skipping with every step. Markus and Eddie brought up the rear, with Eddie casting one last glance back at the house where his father stood watching from the doorway.


    Mr and Mrs Welton raised a hand in a silent farewell, his expression a mix of pride and concern. Eddie returned the gesture before turning away.

 Arrival

    <blockquote>


    "The trees grow larger. The creatures more dangerous. The forest doesn¡¯t just grow¡ªit deepens."


    </blockquote>


    The wooden creak and clacking of horse hoofs filled the journey after Eddie, Torrie, Markus and Catherine boarded the carriage that agreed to take them to Gunther¡¯s Farm, that is the northernmost point the carriage is willing to take them.


    Scents of hay and the faint earthy breeze drifting through the open sides of the carriage. Eddie sat quietly, his gaze fixed on the passing fields, The rifle sat leaning on his shoulder. Catherine, ever the scholar, kept stealing glances at the weapon. Finally, her curiosity got the better of her.


    Catherine then reaches her hand to touch one of the engravings.


    But as usual, Eddie swatter her hands away.


    ¡°Come on, Edward.¡± Catherine sighed, ¡°Can¡¯t I get just a little touch of it?¡±


    ¡°No, Catherine.¡± Eddie reminded, ¡°Dad said so.¡±


    ¡°Humph,¡± Catherine said in mock pout, ¡°Have it your way then.¡±


    Markus and Torrie laughed at the exchange, but Catherine is far from over, she continued,


    "But I''ve been meaning to ask about that flintlock of yours. It''s not exactly what you see every day, especially for someone helping out at the apothecary."


    "It''s more of a hand-me-down, I guess," he sighed, "Back when Weshaven was still full of Streamwyrms, Dad taught my brother Alfred how to use it. Alfred would go into the shore with the others and scare off anything too close to the Apothecary. Sometimes, he''d even shoot them if they were too bold."


    ¡°Streamwyrms? What¡¯s that?¡± Torrie asked,


    ¡°It¡¯s those fishes coming out of the shores every August, remember? Sharp teeth, four legs, you were almost bitten by one last summer.¡±


    ¡°Oh those!¡± Torrie said, ¡°But they are so cute, why did Alfred shoot them?¡±


    "No they aren¡¯t cute, Torrie, they¡¯re pest!¡± Eddie hissed.


    Catherine tilted her head, her gaze flicking back to the rifle. "And now? I assume there aren''t any Streamwyrms around anymore."


    "Not really," Eddie replied. "They still comes out of the shores every August, since Alfred¡¯s not around, I takes his place, but honestly Markus was much more better shot than me, so I haven''t had to use this thing in ages. Honestly, it''s just been collecting dust."


    "So why bring it now?" Catherine pressed, a note of curiosity creeping into her tone.


    ¡°Eh,¡± Eddie shrugged. "Because it''s cool."


    ¡°You just said that Robert asked you to take it.¡± Catherine said


    ¡°But it¡¯s still cool nonetheless.¡±


    ¡°Since it¡¯s oh so cool,¡± Catherine said theatrically, ¡°You would let me touch them.¡±


    ¡°No!¡±


    -o-


    The carriage came to a slow, creaking halt in front of a farmstead, a modest property framed by sprawling fields and a weathered wooden fence. The farmhouse stood stoically against the horizon, its roof patched in places and its walls bearing the marks of years spent braving the elements. A few chickens scattered at the sound of the wheels stopping, clucking indignantly as the group prepared to step down.


    The driver gave the reins a gentle flick. ¡°Here we are. Gunther¡¯s Farm. Northernmost point, just like I said.¡±


    Eddie was the first to hop off, his boots crunching against the dirt path as he turned to help Torrie down. She leaped with an exaggerated flourish, as if pretending she were dismounting a noble steed. Markus followed, stretching his arms and squinting at the farm with mild curiosity. Catherine climbed down last, brushing her red coat off with an air of elegance¡ªuntil the driver called out.


    ¡°Right, miss. That¡¯ll be two silver for the lot of you.¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    Catherine froze, her hand lingering in her pocket as she turned to the driver with an awkward smile. ¡°Ah¡­ I think¡­¡±


    The driver looked more unamused.


    ¡°I¡­ seem to have misplaced my coin satchel¡­¡± Catherine said, her voice uncharacteristically hesitant. She glanced back at the group. ¡°Eddie,¡± she said, flashing an overly sweet smile. ¡°Be a dear and lend me a bit, would you?¡±


    Eddie looked at Catherine, seemingly taken aback by her uncharastically sweet and regal tone.


    ¡°What.¡± Eddie said


    ¡°I misplaced my coin purse.¡±


    ¡°You spent all your coins didn¡¯t you¡ª¡°


    ¡°I said I misplaced it. Happens to the best of us, you know.¡±


    "Fine," Eddie sighed, and reluctantly dug into his pouch, fishing out two silver coins and handing them to the driver, who nodded in thanks and clicked his tongue to set the horses moving again.


    As the carriage rolled away, Eddie turned to Catherine.


    ¡°You¡¯re a master alchemist, and you don¡¯t have two silver to your name?¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Catherine said, ¡°Also I¡¯m not just a Master Alchemist, Edward. I¡¯m a Travelling Master Alchemist, and that is why I accepted that gig!.¡±


    ¡°I sometimes wonder how my younger self could even like you.¡°


    -o-


    Eddie, Torrie, Markus and Catherine continued their journey northward. Sea of tall green grass sways rhythmically as a gentle breeze carried the scent of sea from the shore. Their shadows stretched long and lean under the waning sunlight. The land ahead gradually sloped upward, and as they crested a small hill, the forest of Deep Glaive came into view.


    At first glance, it seemed like just a newly planted tree farm. A scattered cluster of saplings, small bushes, and a few modestly sized trees lined the edge.


    Markus stopped and glanced around his surroundings.


    "This is it, ma¡¯am?" he asked, glancing at Catherine. "The infamous Deep Glaive¡­ Doesn¡¯t seem so deep to me. Looks more like a glorified garden."


    "That¡¯s because you¡¯re standing on the shallow end," Catherine replied.


    "Shallow end? What¡¯s that supposed to mean?" Markus asked back


    "The Deep Glaive isn¡¯t an ordinary forest.¡± Catherine said, turning toward him, gesturing to the trees ahead.


    ¡°It¡¯s Illusory in nature, in a way. It mimics the ocean. The closer you stay to the edges, the smaller everything seems. But as you go deeper..." She trailed off, her gaze drifting to the horizon.


    ¡°What¡­ happens as we go deeper?" Markus frowned.


    "The trees grow larger. The creatures more dangerous. The forest doesn¡¯t just grow¡ªit deepened," Catherine explained, her tone steady but laced with a hint of caution. "It¡¯s why they call it the Deep Glaive. You won¡¯t understand the depth of it until you¡¯re in the deep end."


    "Great¡­¡± Markus sighed, ¡°That¡¯s... comforting to hear."


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Markus.¡± Eddie said, patting his friend on the back, ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll figure things out.¡±


    ¡°If things go bad¡­¡± Eddie continued, ¡°We have a certain Elf to sue.¡±


    ¡°Not funny, Edward.¡± Catherine said.


    The group pressed onward, stepping into the forest¡¯s threshold. As they ventured deeper into the forest, the world around them grew quieter. Their footsteps and the distant calls of seabirds were the sounds they could hear. The path they had been following gave way to a darker earth. The green swaying grasses disappear beneath layers of dark earth. The group began approaching the middle of the Deep Glaive. The sun was now just a sliver on the horizon, casting the last rays of daylight through the trees. As they drew nearer, the forest ahead seemed almost unremarkable¡ªa large cluster of trees, their branches swaying gently in the evening breeze. But as they crossed the threshold into the forest, the air seemed to shift.


    It became cooler, denser, and more damp. The small, trees and saplings they saw before had passed, now the trees are taller, bigger and thicker. Their trunks twists, and their canopies stretched higher into the sky that began to get covered more and more. The underbrush, once sparse, now teemed with strange, luminescent flora, casting an otherworldly glow on the path ahead.


    Eddie glanced at Markus, who was inspecting one of the emissive flowers clinging to a nearby trunk.


    "Do you feel something?" Eddie asked.


    "Yeah¡­" Markus replied. "The air is denser here¡­ it¡¯s like swimming."


    ¡°That¡¯s one weird way to put it¡­¡± Eddie said, ¡°But I agree with you.¡±


    Torrie trailed behind them. She looked up, craning her neck to take in the towering trees.


    The barks of the trees spiraled skyward, their leaves forming an interwoven canopy so thick it blocked out the remnants of the sun light. Shadows danced across her freckled face, and her voice piped up, soft but curious.


    "Is it night already?" Torrie asked, looking around.


    "Not quite," Catherine said, who is in the front most of the group. Her apple-red hair shimmered faintly, catching the luminescence of the forest flora.


    "The deeper we go, the larger the forest grows, remember?¡± Catherine continued, ¡°The Deep Glaive is not just a place, but a world within itself. Like the ocean, it swells with depth. The trees grow taller because we¡¯re swimming deeper."


    "So¡­¡± Torrie said as she looked around her, ¡°Is it like we¡¯re walking into... another layer of reality?"


    "You can say it like that," Catherine said, stepping forward again. "The Deep Glaive is an ancient place, shaped by elven spells older than any of us. Even myself. It doesn¡¯t follow the rules of the outside world."


    ¡°Older than you, huh?¡± Eddie interjected, ¡°This thing must be pre-historic.¡±


    Markus chuckled softly as he joined Catherine, tapping the flask on his belt. "And yet, here we are, bringing mundane supplies into a place like this. It¡¯s humbling, isn¡¯t it?"


    As they ventured further, the luminescent plants grew brighter, painting the towering trees in hues of blue and green. The hum grew louder, joined by faint rustlings in the dense underbrush. Shadows flickered at the edges of their vision, always just appearing in his peripheral.


    "Are we in the center of the forest yet?" Torrie broke the silence.


    "Not quite," Catherine said, gesturing toward the dense wall of trees ahead. "But we will be at The Gates in a few moment."


    "The Gates?" Torrie echoed.


    "The Gates to the forest¡¯s center.¡± Catherine explained, ¡°If you know where to look¡ªand what to do¡ªyou can open them. And lucky for you¡­ I just knew where to look and what to do."


    "That is great Catherine but...¡± Eddie said as he adjusted the strap of his satchel and the rifle on his back, ¡°How exactly do we ¡®open¡¯ them?"


    "Follow me," Catherine said, Leading the way forward.

 The Gate

    <blockquote>


    "This was his legacy. A flower that could shape entire eras of magic. And now... we need them to guide us through this place."


    </blockquote>


    They walked for several hours into the forest. The trees ahead seemed to part, and Eddie noticed a faint, golden glow peeking through the gaps.


    And then Catherine stopped abruptly.


    "There it is!" Catherine stopped abruptly, Eddie, Markus and eventually Torrie bumped into her like a domino. She pointed toward the center of the clearing.


    ¡°What?!¡± Eddie hissed, looking annoyed. ¡°You could¡¯ve told us to stop, you know¡ª¡°


    ¡°We have arrived at the gate!¡± Catherine said with a glee.


    As Eddie stepped to the side to look at what in front of Catherine, he saw it.


    At the heart of the space was a patch of delicate yellow flowers, their petals arranged in a near-perfect circle. They seemed to shimmer faintly, catching and reflecting light that wasn¡¯t visible to the naked eye.


    ¡°Whoa,¡± Eddie finally said in awe, ¡°I think I¡¯ve seen those before.¡±


    ¡°Of course you have,¡± Catherine said with a smirk, ¡°These are Eden Flowers!¡±


    The group then gets closer to the clearing, as they arrive at the clearing, the darkness began to encapsulate them, save for the faint glow of the Eden Flowers at their center.


    "Eden Flowers," Catherine murmured, kneeling beside them. Her hands brushed lightly over the petals, careful not to disturb their fragile beauty. "I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d find them here of all places."


    Torrie dropped to her knees beside Catherine, "Are they a special flower, Aunt Catherine?" she asked, her voice filled with wonder.


    "They are here,¡± Catherine said, ¡°But not in a city called Edenfield where they¡¯re from. But in ancient times, they were widely cultivated. Eden Flowers are incredibly receptive to magic¡ªideal for enchantments, alchemical transmutations, and even energy storage. These might have been planted centuries ago, perhaps by Sage Consurion himself."


    ¡°The namesake of the city of Edenfield too, right?¡± Eddie said, sombre.


    "You are correct," Catherine replied, her voice tinged with admiration. "This was his legacy. A flower that could shape entire eras of magic. And now... we need them to guide us through this place."


    She stood, brushing the dirt from her white dress¡¯s skirt. "I¡¯ll prepare a transmutation circle to reveal a safe path. But first, I¡¯ll need light. The process will eliminate the glow of the Eden Flowers for a few minutes."


    ¡°Yeah, I think we got some flashlight,¡± Eddie glanced at Markus. "Do you have it on you, Mark?"


    ¡°Oh, sure.¡± Markus said, then tapped at his jacket, then at his satchel¡­


    Then his backpack¡­ his expression is grim as he looked back to Eddie,


    ¡°Damn it. I think I left it back at the brewing room."


    "You¡¯re joking."


    "Sorry.¡± Markus scratched the back of his head, his sheepish grin doing little to help. ¡°I thought the forest would provide enough glow."


    ¡°Well,¡± Catherine sighed, ¡°Maybe a few moments of darkness wouldn¡¯t hurt, does it?¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯m afraid of the dark!¡± Torrie plead, ¡°Also what if there is a monster behind us?!¡±


    ¡°Look it¡¯s alright, Torrie.¡± Eddie said, putting his hand on Torrie¡¯s shoulder


    ¡°Alright¡­¡± Catherine said, ¡°Here I go¡­¡±


    Catherine took her staff and pierced it to the dirt below, her staff tracing elegant, sweeping arcs across the ground. Her movements fluid like dances, as she wove intricate patterns into the soil.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.The transmutation circle began to take shape, an intricate fusion of artistry and precision. The elven language spiraled outward.


    Interwoven with the runes were geometric designs of a distinctly foreign origin, their angular lines and curved edges forming a perfect harmony with the fluid Elven script. It was a style originating from the Far East, known for its symmetry and balance, and it added an otherworldly mysticism to the circle.


    The group watched Catherine at work in silence, the clearing lit only by the fading glow of the Eden Flowers.


    Torrie stood close to Eddie, her hands gripping the edge of his coat tightly. Her wide eyes darted nervously to the growing shadows around them, the encroaching darkness pressing in like a living thing.


    "I don¡¯t like this," Torrie whispered, her voice trembling. "It¡¯s too dark. What if something¡¯s out there?"


    Eddie glanced down at his little sister. Her fear palpable; the way her fingers clutched his coat. She was trying to be brave, but the darkness seemed to stretch endlessly around them, and the faint rustle of leaves only deepened her unease.


    Sensing, her fear, Eddie sighed. Torrie is always afraid of the dark, there is no other way to get light it seems.


    "Fine," Eddie sighed. "I¡¯ve got this."


    He reached into Torrie¡¯s backpack, pulling out a wand that had been tucked away among her belongings. The wood was plain, its surface worn smooth from years of use, but as Eddie held it, a faint warmth spread through his fingers, familiar and comforting.


    He focused on the gunpowder he carried on his other satchel, channeling its latent energy into the spell.


    A small flame ignited at the tip of the wand, flickering and dancing in the growing darkness. The warm, golden light illuminated Torrie¡¯s face, chasing away the shadows and softening the lines of worry etched across her features.


    "There," Eddie said, holding the wand low next to Torrie. The firelight illuminated Torrie and the flowers, ¡°Happy now?¡±


    Torrie nodded quickly, her grip on his coat loosening. "Yeah... thanks," she said softly, her voice still a little shaky but steadier than before.


    The firelight cast dancing shadows across their faces and glinted off the edges of Catherine¡¯s transmutation circle.


    Catherine paused, stepping back to admire her handiwork with a satisfied smile. The flowers themselves seemed to shimmer faintly, their golden hues complementing the firelight of Eddie¡¯s spell.


    "You¡¯ve still got it, huh?" Markus taps his elbow towards Eddie.


    "It¡¯s just a light.¡± Eddie shrugged, avoiding Markus¡¯s gaze. ¡°Torrie¡¯s scared of the dark, and nobody else had one handy."


    Catherine clapped her hands, drawing their attention back to her. "Alright, folks," she said. "It¡¯s going to be dark for a while, so stick close."


    She knelt at the center of the intricately etched transmutation circle, her staff resting lightly across her knees.


    She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as the clearing fell silent.


    Rustling leaves and distant chirps fading into an almost oppressive quiet.


    For a moment, it seemed as though nothing would happen.


    Then, subtly at first, the glow of the surrounding Eden Flowers began to dim. Their golden radiance, a natural luminescence that had lit the forest edge, flickered faintly before extinguishing one by one.


    The clearing plunged into total darkness, save for the flickering orange light of Eddie¡¯s wand, its fire casting long, shifting shadows over the group and the inert circle.


    Torrie clung to Eddie¡¯s arm, her wide eyes darting nervously around the shadowed clearing.


    But then, a faint hum broke through the darkness¡ªa deep, resonant vibration that seemed to pulse from the earth itself.


    The Eden Flowers'' glow began to return, but not to their blossoms. Instead, their golden light streamed toward the transmutation circle, like threads of liquid light weaving their way into its grooves and runes.


    A wave of energy burst outward from Catherine¡¯s transmutation circle, a ripple of power that swept over the clearing, rustling the leaves and sending a chill upwards.


    At first Eddie was wondering what those forces was, why is it coming seemingly from underneath the transmutation circle?


    But then he remembered, it was mana.


    The runes etched into the dirt ignited, glowing with an otherworldly golden glow that once emitted from the Eden Flowers.


    Catherine remained still at the center, her posture serene even as the manas enveloped her. Her short, apple-red hair began to rise, defying gravity as if lifted by an unseen force.


    The light of the circle reflected in her closed eyes, and her expression was one of deep concentration, her connection to the magic undeniable.


    The glow reached its zenith, the clearing bathed in shimmering golden light, before it began to subside. The runes dimmed.


    Their golden glow ebbing away until the circle was dark once more. The clearing returned to the stillness it once was, the only light now coming from Eddie¡¯s spell.


    ¡°Eddie, look!¡± Torrie said, pointing to the dark bushes ahead.


    Eddie looks towards the spot she pointed, then,  just as quickly as the glow had faded, a new light appeared.


    It was soft, golden, and steady. A single Eden Flower ahead of them began to glow again, brighter than before.


    Another followed.


    Then another.


    The blossoms igniting one by one in a line that stretched forward into the dark forest.


    The flowers formed two parallel rows, their light creating a luminous pathway that cut through the shadows.


    In the center of the now-dormant transmutation circle, the Eden Flower glowed softly, its light flickering before returning to its natural state.


    Catherine opened her eyes and took in the sight before her, a wide smile spreading across her face.


    "The Forest has granted us safe passage through the Traveller¡¯s Path," she said, her voice brimming with satisfaction and awe.


    She rose gracefully, brushing dirt from her dress¡¯s white skirt.


    "What are we waiting for?"

 Destinations

    <blockquote>


    ¡°I thought it might cross through, but¡­ it doesn¡¯t.¡±


    </blockquote>


    For the first time after Eddie entered the forest, he felt safer. The ground below crunch as he made through his way along the Traveller¡¯s Path. Torrie and Markus was up ahead, marvelling the surroundings beyond the Traveller¡¯s Path. They are at the heart of the Deep Glaive now, they are at the deep end, as Catherine puts it, it¡¯s like the depth of the oceans, and it shows.


    Catherine walks behind Torrie and Markus, but in front of Eddie, she doesn¡¯t seem to be marvelled by the sight of the enormous forest, she just strolled through the Travellers Path as if it was a walk in the park.


    As they walk deeper and deeper. The trees grew thicker and taller as they go. Their trunks now as thick as a castle¡¯s tower, the barks gnarled and ancient.


    Eddie looked up, following the bark¡¯s reach above, only to find that the clouds had swallowed them before it could reach the heavens.


    The thick canopy above had sealed them from the skylight, occasionally streams of moonlight passes through the heavy canopy, only to be swallowed by the darkness below.


    ¡°Alright, folks. We will be stopping here.¡± Catherine said, stretching her arms, ¡°We should arrive at the Heart of the Deep Glaive¡ªthe deepest, most ancient part of the Illusory Forest itself. We can rest here for now.¡±


    ¡°Yay!¡± Torrie exclaimed, ¡°Can I go exploring now, Aunt Catherine?¡±


    ¡°You may,¡± Catherine said, ¡°But don¡¯t go over the Eden Flowers, Torrie. You don¡¯t want to be snatched up by whatever creatures in here don¡¯t you?¡±


    Torrie nodded, then went off.


    ¡°You too can go on explore too, you know?¡± Catherine glanced to Eddie and Markus with a teasing expression, ¡°Adventures are not just for sightseeing.¡±


    Eddie and Markus exchanged a glance


    ¡°Alright then,¡± Eddie said, ¡°Let¡¯s go Mark, We can get something for the apothecary.¡±


    Eddie and Markus then off wandering, keeping close enough to stay within sight of the glowing Eden Flowers. They marvelled at the unique vegetation that thrived on the massive tree trunks.


    Vivid green mosses with faint silver veins, delicate flowers that shimmered with an iridescent glow, and clusters of mushrooms that emitted soft blue light.


    ¡°Whoa¡­ this is incredible¡­¡± Eddie said to himself. ¡°These are Everglow Mushrooms. And that moss¡­ it¡¯s Silverweave. These are rare¡ªused for potent healing potions and wounds regenerations.¡±


    Markus then leaned closer. ¡°You¡¯re right, this is worth a fortune.¡±


    ¡°Catherine?¡± Eddie called, ¡°Can we pick these? Please tell me we can pick these.¡±


    Catherine though, seemed distracted, she is looking at the paths ahead, then to the dark abyss on the sides, as if looking for something.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Catherine?¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Catherine jolted


    ¡°I was asking whether can we pick the plants here, just making sure it¡¯s not cursed or something.¡±


    ¡°Of course not, it¡¯s not cursed,¡± Catherine chuckled, ¡°Take as much as you like! As long as it¡¯s withing the paths of course, just don¡¯t stray over it.¡±


    That was all the confirmation Eddie needed. He and Markus began gathering the rare ingredients, their earlier fatigue forgotten in their excitement.


    As Eddie and Markus gathered ingredients, Torrie sat cross-legged on the side of the path, her attention captured by the Eden Flowers. She plucked a few blooms, weaving them together into a delicate crown. The golden light of the flowers reflected onto her face as she placed the crown on her head.


    ¡°How do I look?¡± she asked, turning to show Eddie, and Markus.


    Markus chuckled. ¡°Like the queen of the forest.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t let it go to your head, Torrie.¡± Eddie added, ¡°The queen shall never let go of her crown!¡±


    Torrie responded with a laugh, The party seemed to relax for the first time since their journey began. The forest, once so foreboding, now felt welcoming, even protective.


    For now, all seemed well.


    After filling their satchels with rare Ingredients, Eddie, and Markus settled back to the Traveller¡¯s Path, joining Torrie.


    When Eddie and Markus joined her at the side of the Traveller¡¯s Path, Torrie puts two of the Eden Flower crowns on top of Markus and Eddie, he could see to that Catherine also had one in her head, and Torrie didn¡¯t seem to be stopping making the crowns.


    ¡°And now I shall pronounce you King of the Deep Glaive!¡± Torrie said with a fluorish.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you hear that, Ed? We¡¯re kings now!¡± Markus joked.


    ¡°A kingdom doesn¡¯t have two kings, Torrie.¡± Eddie said back, ¡°If me and Markus are Kings, and you are the Queen, that what you make of Catherine then?¡±


    Torrie then stopped and thinks, and then her face lit up with mischief.


    ¡°Aunt Catherine would be the irresponsible Princess!¡±


    Eddie and Markus then burst into a laugh, The air seemed to lighten.


    Eddie¡¯s gaze lingered on Catherine thinking she would make witty response to Torrie¡¯s joke, it is weird that she seemed very occupied. She stood apart from the group, her hand clutching something¡ªa map, Eddie realised her frustrated expression.


    Shouldn¡¯t she be pleased? Happy? The fact that they made it safely to the heart of the Deep Glaive? They conquered the Illusory, after all. Shouldn¡¯t that be a reason to be happy in this scenario?


    Then, out of the blue, Eddie recalled something¡­


    It hit him like a blast of cold air. The conversation they¡¯d had a few nights ago, outside the Swordfish Pub, rushed back to him.


    She isn¡¯t here for rare ingredients.


    She isn¡¯t here for adventures.


    She is here for an ancient artefact.


    Eddie swallowed, watching her as she folded the map, the parchment old and weathered, its edges frayed and stained with dirt. She folded it, then unfolded it again and again, once in a while looking over the abyss beyond the Traveller¡¯s Path.


    Catherine then walked to the edge of the Traveller¡¯s Path just next to Eddie. Her gaze was overlooking the abyss in front of her, the seeming darkness that enveloped the Illusory forest, as if searching something beyond its darkness.


    Looking at her, Eddie stood up and looked to the direction Catherine is gazing.


    ¡°Catherine?¡­¡± Eddie began, ¡°You alright? You seemed really occupied.¡±


    ¡°We didn¡¯t arrive where I thought we would¡­¡± Catherine said almost whispering, ¡°We were off a couple metres¡­ this can¡¯t be good.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Eddie frowned, glancing at the map. ¡°We are at the Heart of the Deep Glaive isn¡¯t it? Isn¡¯t this¡­ where you wanted to be?¡±


    Catherine lets out a frustrated sigh. She tapped a spot on the map, near a series of intricate symbols. ¡°The Traveler¡¯s Path doesn¡¯t lead directly to the ruins I was hoping to explore.


    ¡°I thought it might cross through, but¡­ it doesn¡¯t.¡± Catherine continued, turning her gaze toward the abyss beyond the glowing Eden Flowers. ¡°The ruins are only a few meters off the path. Not far.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going over.¡±


    Eddie stared at her, his pupils dilating in panic, did he heard her correctly? Didn¡¯t she just said a few moments ago to Not go beyond the safety of the Eden Flowers? Is this the same person who just gave that advice?


    ¡°Catherine¡­¡± Eddie said, his eyes piercing towards Catherine, ¡°Are you fucking crazy?¡±

 The Abyss Gaze Back

    <blockquote>


    ¡°I can¡¯t let that go to the wrong hands¡­¡±


    </blockquote>


    ¡°Crazy?¡­¡± Catherine asked back, now looking back at Eddie, her eyes pierced him back. ¡°Do I look crazy to you?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Eddie groaned, ¡°Yes you are! You¡¯re talking about stepping into the darkness with whatever creatures that howled when we walk here! You said it yourself, Catherine! It¡¯s dangerous to go beyond the Eden Flowers!¡±


    ¡°This time it¡¯s different Edward.¡± Catherine said with determination, ¡°I didn¡¯t come all this way to turn back now¡­ that Artefact is out there, Edward, the ruins aren¡¯t far¡ª¡°


    ¡°Forget the artefact!¡± Eddie said, ¡°We are talking about risking your life for just¡­ a piece of history, Catherine! Let¡¯s just go back, and get more people or something!¡±


    Catherine then stayed silent,


    ¡°Do you even know what the Artefact is, Edward? The significance of it.¡±


    ¡°No, and I don¡¯t think it worth sacrificing your life over.¡±


    ¡°The Artefact is Codex Chilandar.¡± Catherine said, ¡°The Alchemical Codex rumored to contain the secret of transmuting the matter of a living being.¡±


    Eddie stood there¡­ His breath caught in his throat, his mind scrambling to process what he had just heard. His lips parted, but no words came out. His body tensed, arms stiff at his sides, fingers twitching as if trying to grasp something solid¡ªsomething real¡ªto ground himself against the absurdity of Catherine¡¯s claim.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that¡­ impossible? T-that''s something bordering Necromancy.¡±


    "I can assure you, it is not Necromancy." Catherine said, turning her gaze towards the abyss again, ¡°Not according to the rumor circulating about that codex¡­¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t let that go to the wrong hands¡­¡± Catherine continued, ¡°Especially with that rumors spreading.¡±The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "You¡¯re seriously going to risk it?"


    Catherine folded the map, tucking it into her coat¡¯s pocket.


    "I am," she said simply. "You can stay here if you want. I understand."


    Her words stung. He didn¡¯t want to admit that the thought of leaving the safety of the path terrified him, but the idea of letting her wander into danger alone was somehow worse.


    Before Eddie could say anything, Markus stood up.


    His movements slow, but deliberate, as he dusted off his hands and adjusted the satchel of ingredients he¡¯d been collecting.


    "I¡¯ll go with her," Markus said, his voice calm but resolute.


    Both Eddie and Catherine turned to him in surprise.


    "What?" Eddie asked, blinking.


    "You clearly don¡¯t want to go, I get it.¡± Markus shrugged, stepping closer. ¡°This place gives me the creeps too. But I¡¯m not about to let Miss Catherine go out there alone. Someone¡¯s got to watch her back."


    "You don¡¯t even know what¡¯s out there,"


    "Neither do you.¡± Markus responded, ¡°But someone¡¯s got to keep her out of trouble¡±


    Markus extended a hand toward Eddie. "Come on, Ed. Hand it over. If I¡¯m going into uncharted ruins with her, I¡¯m going armed."


    Eddie hesitated, the weight of his flintlock rifle suddenly feeling heavier. His instincts told him to hold onto it.


    ¡°Come on, Ed.¡± Markus¡¯s gaze softened, ¡°Let me do something for you at least once. You can¡¯t be the hero all the time, can you?¡±


    Markus¡¯s unwavering gaze¡ªand the quiet determination behind his easygoing demeanor¡ªmade him think twice.


    "Fine," Eddie said reluctantly, finally handing the rifle over, along with the satchel of metal balls and gunpowder.  "Just¡­ don¡¯t waste all the gunpowders trying to hit trees, alright?"


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I will not miss.¡± Markus took the rifle with a small smile, slinging the rifle over his shoulder.


    Eddie chuckled, then watched as Markus turned to Catherine.


    ¡°Thank you Markus.¡± Catherine said with sincerity, ¡°I¡¯ll make sure to watch your back.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s my job ma¡¯am,¡± Markus chuckled, ¡°You just focus on your treasure ahead of ya!¡±


    Catherine chuckled. The two exchanged a brief glance of understanding, and then, without another word, they stepped off the safety of the Traveler¡¯s Path.


    The golden glow of the Eden Flowers illuminated their silhouettes for a few paces before the dense forest swallowed them.


    The faint crunch of their boots against the underbrush grew quieter, until it was lost entirely to the eerie silence of the Heart of the Deep Glaive.


    Eddie stood motionless, his hands now felt significantly lighter, the weight of what had just happened settling over him like a heavy cloak. Torrie, oblivious to the gravity of the situation, was still playing with her flower crown a few paces away.


    For a long moment, Eddie stared after them, a deep unease gnawing at his stomach.


    What if they don¡¯t come back?

 Knights

    <blockquote>


    ¡°Why are you even here?¡±


    </blockquote>


    As Markus and Catherine went outside the perimeter of the Eden Flowers, Eddie and Torrie settled down at the side of the Traveller¡¯s Path. The glowing Eden Flowers cast a gentle, golden light over the path, creating a serene atmosphere amidst the dense darkness of the Deep Glaive.


    Eddie sat with his elbows resting on his knees, absently watching the slow sway of the glowing flowers. Beside him, Torrie¡¯s small fingers moved with delicate precision, weaving the blossoms into a crown. She worked with quiet focus, her brows furrowed in concentration, but every now and then, she stole glances at her brother.


    ¡°So, Torrie,¡± Eddie began, filling the silence. ¡°How do you feel about seeing Catherine again?¡±


    Torrie glanced up, twisting the final stem into place.


    ¡°I¡¯m happy.¡± She said, ¡°Not every day you meet someone with so much knowledge and experience. Aunt Catherine has travelled far and studied so much. Being able to learn from her is fascinating.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Eddie flashed a smile ¡°it¡¯s... good to see her again.¡±


    Torrie¡¯s smile remained, but something about it was off¡ªtoo small, too polite. She studied him for a moment before tilting her head.


    ¡°And what about you? How do you feel about meeting her again?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright.¡±


    ¡°Just that?¡± Torrie¡¯s fingers stilled on the flower crown. Her voice was light, but there was something searching in it, something cautious. ¡°Nothing else fascinates you about her return?¡±


    Eddie hesitated, shifting where he sat. The glow of the flowers reflected in his eyes, but there was something distant about them.


    ¡°It¡¯s just... seeing her again is... cool¡­ She¡¯s awesome.¡± Eddie replied. He glanced at Torrie, whose previously bright demeanour had now shifted to something more serious.


    Torrie¡¯s eyes searched his face, her gaze intense. ¡°Are you telling me that¡¯s all there is to it? You don¡¯t feel anything else about her returning after all this time?¡±


    Eddie shifted uncomfortably. ¡°It¡¯s not like that. I just... I don¡¯t know.¡±


    Torrie¡¯s smile had vanished entirely, replaced by a frown of concern and confusion. ¡°Eddie, I thought you¡¯d be more... interested. You used to look up to her so much when we were young!¡±


    Eddie¡¯s jaw tensed, his eyes flicking toward the trees. ¡°Maybe¡­ I don¡¯t know,¡± he muttered.


    Torrie¡¯s fingers paused mid-motion with the flower crown, her face a mask of frustration and somewhat hurt.


    The Eden Flowers glowed softly. Their light cast long shadows that danced across their faces. The once-comforting glow now seemed to highlight the distance growing between them.


    Finally, Torrie let out a breath. ¡°If you¡¯re not interested¡­¡± She hesitated, then turned her gaze back to him, firm and unrelenting.


    ¡°Why are you even here?¡±


    -o-


    Moonlight pierced through the dense canopy of the Deep Glaive, casting jagged patterns across the forest floor. Twisted vines and ancient trees loomed like sentinels, their gnarled forms seeming almost alive in the shifting light. The forest was oppressively silent, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant, haunting call of some unseen creature.


    Catherine walked through the darkness of the forest, lit up by a white glow she conjured from her staff, Markus is following behind her, his grip tight on Eddie¡¯s flintlock rifle. The weapon was raised, its polished barrel glinting faintly in the pale light. Every whisper of movement sent his heart racing, his eyes darting toward every shadow. At the slightest rustle of a bush, the rifle twitched in his hands, his finger hovering dangerously close to the trigger.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t answered my question, Markus.¡± Catherine said, her eyes still forward.


    ¡°Look, ma¡¯am. I¡¯m here because Eddie clearly don¡¯t want to!¡± Markus groaned, ¡°In fact, I¡¯m clearly a better shot than he is!¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°But you clearly looked scared,¡± Catherine said, brushing the bushes out of her way with her staff, ¡°You¡¯re holding that thing like we¡¯re about to be ambushed by an army of bandits.¡±


    ¡°Easy for you to say, ma¡¯am!¡± Markus lowered the rifle but kept it ready. ¡°You¡¯ve got magic and stuff! And you''re like.. Elven! I¡¯m just a fisherman''s son and I''ve only got only this¡ªand it¡¯s not exactly comforting.¡± He gave the rifle a wary look as if it might betray him at any moment.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine.¡± Catherine said, her voice quiet but steady. ¡°I¡¯ve been through worse, believe me. And I promise you, we won¡¯t be facing it alone if anything comes at us. Beasts this centuries tend to be much more smaller in size, so it will be a piece of cake.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± he muttered. ¡°One centuries old or one week old, I¡¯m still keeping this thing ready.¡±


    They continued deeper into the forest. The silence between them seemed to press in even closer, distant howls and rustles of bushes are the only thing they could hear, the darkness growing thicker. Catherine kept her senses sharp, but sensing Markus¡¯s unease, she knows he needed something to keep his mind off his surroundings.


    ¡°You know,¡± she began, her tone conversational, ¡°I used to visit Eddie¡¯s home a lot when he was younger. We¡¯d go adventuring in ancient dungeons, exploring caves and abandoned ruins. But an illusory forest is definitely first for me in ages.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Markus glanced at her, his face pale. ¡°Yeah, I remember Eddie used to talk a lot about his adventures in the dungeons, that was what made him quite popular at school.¡±


    ¡°Was he now?¡± Catherine chuckled. ¡°Eddie was always the first to stray off the path, treading the path uncharted. He was always adventurous, seeking new experiences, no matter the danger.¡±


    She paused. ¡°We got ourselves into trouble more times than I can count. But no matter what, Eddie always seemed to enjoy the risk of it. Alfred and I had to pull him out of danger more times than I¡¯d like to admit.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­" Markus exhaled, his breath slow, measured. "That sounds like him,¡± he murmured. ¡°That was the Eddie I remember. He was reckless, always pushing the limits. Even when he was in school.¡±


    Catherine frowned slightly at his tone. ¡°You talk as if we¡¯re speaking about two different people. What¡¯s the matter with Eddie now?¡±


    ¡°Eddie now...¡± Markus sighed, ¡°He seems different. He doesn¡¯t seem like the same person.¡±


    Catherine slowed her pace, turning to look at him fully. ¡°Different?¡± she echoed, the warmth from before ebbing away. ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you know he was expelled?¡±


    The word struck Catherine. Her breath hitching for just a moment, her steps faltering before she caught herself. In the dim light, her expression barely shifted¡ªonly the slight furrow of her brow, the way her fingers curled tighter around the edge of her brass-mahogany staff.


    ¡°Expelled?¡± Her voice came out quieter than she intended. ¡°From Aella Academy?¡±


    Markus nodded.


    For a moment, she didn¡¯t move, didn¡¯t speak. The forest felt different now.


    Why had he never told her?


    ¡°How can he be?¡± Catherine asked, ¡°He is the prodigy of your year wasn¡¯t he? Or so what Alyssa told me in her letters.¡±


    ¡°He was¡­¡± Markus said, ¡°Until one day¡­ he was so reckless¡­¡±


    Both of them continues to walk, the howls and unnerving chirps of different creatures continue to sound.


    Markus exhaled, rubbing his arms as if brushing off an unseen weight. ¡°Back at Aella Academy¡­ there was a kid named Davies. He used to bully me a lot. I wasn¡¯t as adept at magic as the others, so I was an easy target. Eddie¡ªhe was my only real friend. Maybe because he didn¡¯t fit in either.¡± He hesitated, then added, ¡°People were jealous of him. They hated how effortlessly talented he was. He spent more time with me than with the others¡­ maybe because I didn¡¯t look at him with resentment the way they did.¡±


    ¡°One day, when Eddie and I were hanging out, Davies was especially brutal. He said I was leeching off¡ªthat I had no right to be around someone like Eddie.¡± Markus let out a hollow chuckle. ¡°He challenged me to a Duel. And, of course, I was no match for him.¡±


    Catherine felt her stomach tighten. ¡°Eddie stepped in.¡±


    Markus nodded. ¡°Yeah. He was always impulsive, always throwing himself into the fire before thinking twice. He challenged Davies instead.¡±


    Catherine could picture it¡ªthe reckless fire in Eddie¡¯s eyes, the sharp defiance in his stance.


    ¡°None of us knew how it would end,¡± Markus continued. ¡°Davies didn¡¯t take Eddie seriously. He was a Conjuration student, and everyone knew Alchemy wasn¡¯t suited for dueling. Eddie should¡¯ve lost. He should¡¯ve lost.¡±


    Markus hesitated, then exhaled slowly. ¡°But he didn¡¯t. Instead, he scarred Davies. Badly. His face¡ª¡± Markus shook his head, as if trying to shake the memory. ¡°It was a mess. There was no coming back from it. And after that, Eddie was expelled.¡±


    Catherine¡¯s breath caught.


    ¡°Scarred?¡± she repeated. ¡°Alchemy¡­ couldn¡¯t do that directly. Not unless¡ª¡± Her eyes narrowed. ¡°Wait. Were they battling in a classroom? Near any metal?¡±


    Markus shook his head. ¡°No. It was in the woods. Just like this... There was no metal, no resources for him to transmute.¡±


    Catherine felt a chill crawl up her spine.


    ¡°The Aella Council deemed it black magic,¡± Markus said. ¡°Said it was too dangerous, that there would be too many questions, too much risk to the academy¡¯s reputation. Expelling him was easier than letting it turn into a scandal.¡±


    Catherine clenched her jaw. That was it, then. That was why Eddie had never told her.


    She had always sensed there was something buried beneath his quiet distance, something brittle in the way he carried himself.


    ¡°I had no idea¡­¡± Her voice barely rose above a whisper. ¡°Eddie never spoke about it. I¡¯ve always wondered why he seemed so distant.¡±


    Markus let out a slow breath, his shoulders sagging. ¡°It was a turning point for him. He became cold¡ªcut off from everything he was passionate about. From that point on, he believed Alchemy was black magic. He burned all of his textbooks, got rid of his uniform¡ª¡± Markus swallowed. ¡°It¡¯s like he tried to erase that part of himself.¡±


    He hesitated, his voice quieter now. ¡°That¡¯s why¡­ I¡¯m here.¡± His fingers tightened on the wooden stock of the flintlock. ¡°Because at least¡ªI want to give back to him. To show him that he doesn¡¯t have to throw himself into danger for my sake anymore. That someone else can protect him or anyone he cares and loves. For once.¡±


    Catherine didn¡¯t say anything.


    Because what was there to say?


    It wasn¡¯t just that Eddie had lost something important to him.


    He had lost himself.


    She had been right about him.


    Just¡­ not in the way she wanted to be.

 The Bastion

    ¡°I had no idea¡­¡± Catherine voice barely rose above a whisper. ¡°Eddie never spoke about it. I¡¯ve always wondered why he seemed so distant.¡±


    Markus let out a slow breath, his shoulders sagging. ¡°It was a turning point for him. He became cold¡ªcut off from everything he was passionate about. From that point on, he believed Alchemy was black magic. He burned all of his textbooks, got rid of his uniform¡ª¡± Markus swallowed. ¡°It¡¯s like he tried to erase that part of himself.¡±


    He hesitated, his voice quieter now. ¡°That¡¯s why¡­ I¡¯m here.¡± His fingers tightened on the wooden stock of the flintlock. ¡°Because at least¡ªI want to give back to him. To show him that he doesn¡¯t have to throw himself into danger for my sake anymore. That someone else can protect him or anyone he cares and loves. For once.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a brave one, Markus.¡± Catherine said, smiling. ¡°You definitely have a mark of a knight.¡±


    Catherine and Markus ventured further, guided by the lights of Catherine¡¯s staff. The dense forest gradually thinned, revealing scattered fragments of stone.


    At first, just a few half-buried columns, their faded white surfaces cracked and leaning, worn down by time. The air grew heavier, thick with the scent of damp earth.


    As they ventured deeper, the ruins around them became more distinct. More columns lay toppled, some broken in half, others standing in defiance of centuries past. Then, beyond a ridge, the remnants of a vast structure emerged¡ªa ruin far greater than the scattered fragments before.


    Its once mighty walls stood in defiance, their surfaces adorned with creeping vines and twisted roots. Whatever this place had been, nature had not only reclaimed it¡ªit had consumed it, growing through the stone like a slow and patient conqueror.


    Markus abruptly stopped, his grip tightening on the flintlock rifle. His gaze landed on a stone sign, half-buried in the dirt. The faint, scorched lettering was written in an unfamiliar, elegant script.


    Catherine stepped closer, brushing some of the dirt away with her gloved hand. Her eyes traced the symbols carefully. ¡°It¡¯s Elvish,¡± she murmured. ¡°¡®Bastion of Craemonia.¡¯¡±


    Markus let out a slow breath. ¡°Bastion, huh?¡± His voice was dry, uneasy. ¡°Doesn¡¯t feel very bastion-like to me.¡± He swept his gaze over the ruins, rifle raised slightly, as if the shadows themselves might lunge at them.


    ¡°What is this place, anyway?¡± Markus continued.


    ¡°Just like the sign said, It¡¯s Craemonia¡­¡±Catherine answered, ¡°The Bastion of Craemonia. This was an elven stronghold, built under the reign of Emperor Nocturnilus the Conqueror.¡±


    ¡°His empire reaches far at the time,¡± Catherine stepped forward, her staff tapping against the stones as she walked. ¡°Weshaven might be a small island, but he probably had found some use for it. And he used this bastion as a research outpost¡­ for Alchemy.¡±


    ¡°Alchemy?¡± Markus raised an eyebrow. ¡°But I thought Elves had already known Magic at that time. Like y¡¯know¡­ Conjuration, Illusions¡­ Alchemy.¡±


    ¡°Oh yes we did, we have everything Magic has to offer¡­ All but Alchemy,¡± Catherine confirmed. ¡°It remained a mystery for us, Alchemy came from the nomadic tribes of the eastern dunes. At the time, the Elves hadn¡¯t discovered it yet. Emperor Nocturnilus was determined to unlock its secrets before the mortals and the dwarves.¡±


    ¡°So¡­¡± Markus frowned. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°If you read your history books, you should know that Nocturnilus¡¯s reign collapsed, the once solitary Elven community integrated with the mortals, they had forgotten and lost faith to their Emperor.¡± Catherine¡¯s steps slowed. She looked up at the ruined bastion. ¡°But the remnant of his conquest lay littered across the continents, like this one here. And whatever he discovered¡­ it wasn¡¯t Alchemy.¡±


    A breeze stirred the overgrown foliage, whispering through the ruins like a voice lost in time. Markus exhaled sharply. ¡°Then¡­ What is it?¡±


    But Catherine stayed silent¡­


    The road ahead narrowed as they reached the outer walls¡ªvast, towering things that still bore the remnants of intricate carvings. Beyond them, deeper in the ruins, loomed what remained of the Bastion¡¯s inner sanctum.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ I really don¡¯t like this place, Miss Catherine.¡± Markus adjusted his rifle uneasily. ¡°You¡¯re sure this is where we need to be?¡±


    ¡°This is the place.¡± Catherine nodded, her eyes fixed on the ruin. ¡°The Codex may be still inside.¡± She paused, then added, ¡°If it¡¯s still here.¡±


    Markus groaned, lowering the rifle enough to look at her. ¡°If it¡¯s still here? Great. We came all this way for a maybe.¡±


    ¡°Not just a maybe.¡± Catherine smirked faintly. ¡°A once-in-a-lifetime, maybe. There¡¯s a difference.¡±


    Markus shook his head, muttering under his breath as he adjusted his grip on the rifle. ¡°Now I get it why Eddie don¡¯t want to go.¡±


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    -o-


    The mossy pavement wound between crumbling archways and open courtyards, as Catherine and Markus made their way.


    Step by step, the ruins revealed themselves. Beyond the fallen columns and collapsed archways, a massive structure came into view. The grand edifice stood partially intact, its vast stone walls weathered but unyielding. To the right, another building loomed, connected by a ruined hallway. The skeletal remains of a shattered dome crowned the secondary structure, and within its collapsed roof, an enormous telescope lay broken and rusting, its once-polished frame now dulled by time.


    Markus let out a low whistle. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not what I expected.¡±


    Catherine stopped beside him, her gaze sweeping over the structures. ¡°This is the Aeron Laboratory.¡± Her voice carried a quiet awe. ¡°Named after Aeron, one of the Nine Sages of Enlightenment. But before he became a Sage, this was his laboratory.¡±


    Markus eyed the ruins warily. ¡°And what exactly was he researching?¡±


    Catherine exhaled slowly. ¡°Alchemy. Or at least¡­ that was the intention.¡±


    They crossed the threshold into the ruined laboratory. The temperature seemed to drop as they stepped inside. The roof had caved in long ago, and moonlight streamed through the gaps, illuminating rows of tarnished silver equipment. Alembics, retorts, and distillation coils still lined the cracked stone tables, their glass components shattered into jagged remnants on the floor. A thick layer of dust coated everything, disturbed only by the occasional shift of wind.


    ¡°This was a laboratory?¡± Markus muttered. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like much now.¡±


    Catherine stepped forward, brushing dust off a silver alembic, its once-polished surface dulled with age. ¡°It was more than that,¡± she said. ¡°Aeron was one of Nocturnilus¡¯s chief researcher. This was his work.¡±


    Markus shot her a look. ¡°Nocturnilus¡¯s? You mean the same Nocturnilus who tried to conquer half the world? I didn¡¯t expect they had worked together.¡±


    Catherine nodded. ¡°Before he saw the truth of what he was serving.¡± She ran a hand over a series of faded engravings on the wall. ¡°Aeron was a scholar, fascinated with the nature of Alchemy¡ªback when the Elves knew nothing about it. Nocturnilus wanted him to uncover its secrets, to wield it as a tool of power. But¡­ something changed.¡±


    Markus frowned. ¡°What do you mean, ¡®changed¡¯?¡±


    ¡°He left,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Abandoned his work. Abandoned this place. He never spoke of what he found here.¡±


    Markus exhaled, scanning the ruined lab once more. The broken equipment, the fractured ceiling, the eerie quiet. ¡°So whatever he discovered¡­¡± He gestured around them. ¡°It wasn¡¯t Alchemy.¡±


    Catherine didn¡¯t answer.


    The wind stirred through the open roof, rustling the overgrown foliage. Somewhere in the ruins, something shifted¡ªstone settling, or perhaps something else.


    Catherine tore her gaze away from the wall, stepping back from the runes. ¡°Let¡¯s find what we came for.¡±


    The arching corridor led them forward, deeper into the ruined bastion. The white stone walls narrowed, then expanded into a vast, open chamber. As Catherine and Markus stepped through the threshold, their breath caught at the sight before them.


    The Grand Hall of the Observatory stretched wide, its ceiling once a magnificent dome, now fractured and open to the night sky. Jagged remnants of the collapsed telescope loomed above, its broken frame catching the silver light of the moon. The glow filtered through the shattered structure, casting long, spectral beams onto the marble floor. Dust swirled in the air, dancing in the pale luminescence.


    At the center of the hall, standing alone beneath the celestial glow, was the lectern.


    It was ancient, carved from the same pale stone as the bastion itself. Intricate elven engravings ran along its sides, whispering of knowledge long forgotten. And resting atop it, bathed in the moon¡¯s embrace, was a book¡ªits leather cover faded, its gilded edges worn with time.


    Catherine¡¯s steps were slow, deliberate. Her fingers hovered over the tome before she lifted it with a reverence reserved for something sacred. The weight of history pressed against her palms.


    She turned the first page, then another, eyes sweeping over the delicate, curling script within. The scent of aged parchment filled the air as she flipped through its contents, scanning, absorbing.


    Then, at last, she stilled. A slow, satisfied exhale escaped her lips.


    Catherine turned to Markus, her eyes gleaming with something between triumph and awe.


    ¡°This is it,¡± she whispered, her voice carrying through the grand hall like a proclamation. Her fingers traced the worn title inscribed within.


    ¡°Codex Chilandar.¡±


    Catherine stood still, her fingers lingering on the worn pages of the Codex, her heart still steady from the thrill of discovery.


    Then¡ªsomething shifted.


    A flicker. A whisper of movement.


    The moonlight, so pristine only moments before, dimmed¡ªjust for an instant. As if something vast and unseen had passed before it.


    Catherine¡¯s breath caught. She turned sharply, eyes scanning the ruined chamber.


    ¡°What was that?¡± Markus whispered. His grip tightened around the flintlock rifle as his instincts flared. He raised the barrel, eyes darting to the shadows. Nothing moved. Nothing stirred. And yet¡ª


    A distant creak. A soft, falling pebble.


    Then¡ª


    With a deafening roar, the ceiling above them shattered.


    White stone and rusted metal rained down as the remnants of the collapsed dome gave way. A monstrous form plunged through the fractured sky, wings of shadow unfurling with a terrible force. Dust and debris surged outward in a choking storm.


    Catherine staggered back, the impact tearing her from her thoughts. Her hands slipped¡ªthe Codex tumbled from her grasp, landing with a hollow thud before the lectern.


    Markus fired. The shot rang out, the flash of gunpowder illuminating the chaos for an instant¡ªthen fading uselessly against the dark, scaled hide of the beast.


    The creature stood before them now, massive and inescapable. Dark wings unfurled, their jagged edges slicing through the settling dust. A maw lined with glistening fangs parted, exhaling a deep, shuddering breath that smelled of ash and decay.


    And between its taloned feet, the Codex lay, untouched.


    ¡°Markus, go.¡± Her voice was firm, urgent.


    He didn¡¯t lower the rifle. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving you.¡±


    Catherine¡¯s eyes flicked between him and the dragon.


    ¡°Markus,¡± she snapped. ¡°I can handle this. But not with you in the way.¡±


    He clenched his jaw. ¡°I can help¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll die!¡±


    The words cut through the air sharper than any blade.


    Markus stiffened.


    Catherine¡¯s expression softened, just slightly. ¡°Go back to the Traveller¡¯s Path, get to Eddie and Torrie.¡± Her voice lowered, urgent but not unkind. ¡°I need you out of here. Now.¡±


    Markus hesitated. ¡°Catherine¡ª¡±


    ¡°I have lived longer than you and your entire lineage combined.¡± She took a step forward, her staff firm in her grip. ¡°I know what I¡¯m doing.¡±


    The dragon inhaled sharply.


    Markus cursed under his breath. His fingers twitched against the rifle. He stole one last glance at her. Then¡ª


    He turned and ran.


    The Grand Hall trembled behind him as the beast let out a bone-rattling snarl. The last thing he saw before vanishing through the broken archway was Catherine, standing firm, facing the creature alone.

 Quarrel

    ¡°Look, Torrie. It¡¯s not that it doesn¡¯t fascinate me,¡± Eddie said finally, his voice strained. ¡°There¡¯s just... nothing else to discuss. I don¡¯t know what else to say about her.¡±


    ¡°You used to be so eager to meet Aunt Catherine!¡± Her eyes narrowed. Her voice rose, ¡°You¡¯d spend hours talking about her, sharing everything you learned from her with me. Now, you act like she¡¯s just another stranger. She noticed it, too. Doesn¡¯t that bother you?¡±


    ¡°Look, Torrie¡­¡± Eddie¡¯s face flushed, his patience wearing thin. He shook his head, frustrated by her insistence. ¡°It¡¯s not that simple. You don¡¯t understand¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t I?!¡± Torrie¡¯s voice cracked as she cut him off. Her whole body trembled, but she stood her ground. ¡°Don¡¯t I understand what happened that day? The day Mom and Dad were called to your school out of nowhere? The day you left home grinning, rambling about alchemy like always, and then came back¡ª¡± Her breath hitched. ¡°Looking like something inside you had died!?¡±


    Eddie flinched.


    Torrie¡¯s voice wavered, but she pressed on, desperate. ¡°You used to be passionate about Alchemy, Eddie. You used to talk about it like it was everything. You looked up to Aunt Catherine like she was some kind of hero¡ªeven though you hadn¡¯t seen her in years. Even though it would take decades before you got to meet her again, you still dreamed about it! You were going to share your research with her, show her everything you¡¯d learned.¡±


    Her hands trembled. ¡°But now you¡¯re just¡­ empty.¡±


    Silence hung between them, heavy, suffocating.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you feel bad for her, Ed?¡± Her voice cracked, raw with emotion. ¡°Alchemy used to be your life. You used to dream about it. Chase it. And now you just¡ª¡± She sucked in a shuddering breath. ¡°Now you act like it¡¯s nothing.¡±


    She wiped at her face with the sleeve of her coat, her shoulders rising and falling as she struggled to keep control.


    ¡°What happened to you?!¡±


    Eddie¡¯s jaw clenched. His fingers curled into fists. His whole body tensed like a wire stretched too tight.


    Then¡ª


    ¡°Enough!¡± he shouted.


    Eddie stood up, looking at Torrie, ¡°You want to know what happened? Do you?¡±


    Torrie swallowed, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out.


    Eddie let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. ¡°Fine. You want the truth? Here it is.¡±


    His hands trembled at his sides, but he forced himself to keep talking. The words came spilling out, like a wound torn open.


    ¡°Back at Aella Academy¡­ when I was still a student there¡­¡± His hands curled tighter, fingernails digging into his palms.  ¡°I¡¯ve got a classmate named Davies. Arrogant, cruel¡ªhe had everything handed to him, and he liked to remind people of it.¡±


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    ¡°He especially liked tormenting Markus¡­. And Markus wasn¡¯t as adept at magic as the rest of us. He was an easy target. And I was the only one who gave a damn about it.¡±


    He took a step forward, his voice rising. ¡°I didn¡¯t fit in either. I didn¡¯t try to. But Markus¡­ He was my friend. My only real friend.¡±


    He looked away, as if the memory was too much to face. ¡°One day, Davies pushed too far. He cornered Markus, humiliated him¡ªsaid he was leeching off me, that he had no right to even be there. He challenged Markus to a duel, knowing damn well he couldn¡¯t win.¡±


    Torrie¡¯s lips parted slightly, but she said nothing. She just listened.


    Eddie let out a ragged breath. ¡°He never stood a chance. And I¡ªI couldn¡¯t just stand there. I was so goddamn angry, so sick of Davies, so tired of the way he tore people down just because he could.¡± His voice cracked, but he forced himself to go on. ¡°So I challenged him instead.¡±


    He turned away for a moment, as if he couldn¡¯t bear to look at her. ¡°Davies laughed in my face. He was a Conjuration student¡ªeveryone knew Alchemy wasn¡¯t suited for dueling. I should¡¯ve lost.¡± He let out a shaky exhale. ¡°I should¡¯ve lost.¡±


    Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.


    Torrie¡¯s hands trembled at her sides. ¡°But you didn¡¯t.¡±


    Eddie¡¯s jaw tightened. His throat ached, his vision blurred. He forced himself to meet her gaze.


    ¡°No,¡± he said, barely above a whisper. ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡±


    His breath hitched, and he turned his hands over, staring at them as if they still carried the weight of that moment. ¡°I don¡¯t even know how it happened. One second, I was transmuting, trying to redirect his attack, and the next¡ª¡± His voice faltered. He shut his eyes, as if he could block out the memory, but it was burned into him.


    ¡°His face,¡± Eddie whispered, the horror creeping back into his voice. ¡°Half of it was gone.¡±


    Torrie¡¯s breath caught in her throat.


    ¡°There was nothing left but burns and warped flesh. His screams¡ª¡± Eddie stopped himself, his whole body shuddering. ¡°There was no coming back from it. And after that, I was expelled.¡±


    The word hung in the air like a sentence passed down in a courtroom.


    ¡°The Aella Council called it black magic,¡± he muttered, his voice hollow. ¡°Said what I did was unnatural, dangerous. That I should¡¯ve lost. That expelling me was easier than letting it turn into a scandal.¡±


    Eddie let out a bitter laugh, but there was no humor in it. ¡°And you know what the worst part is?¡± He looked up at Torrie, his eyes dark, haunted. ¡°I don¡¯t even know if they were wrong.¡±


    Torrie¡¯s lips trembled. ¡°Eddie¡­¡±


    He turned away sharply. ¡°Now you know,¡± he said, his voice thick with exhaustion. ¡°Now you understand.¡±


    ¡°But still¡­¡± Torrie, took a step back. ¡°You¡¯ve changed so much, Eddie. It¡¯s like you¡¯re not even the same person anymore.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯m not.¡± Panting and shaken, Eddie looked at her with regret and defiance.  ¡°Maybe I can¡¯t be the person I was before. You don¡¯t know what it¡¯s like to live with the consequences of your actions. And I hope you never.¡±


    For a moment, the forest seemed to close around them, the weight of their argument pressing down on both of them. The glow of the Luminas felt colder, and the distance between them seemed to widen with every harsh word.


    Torrie¡¯s tears continued to flow, her voice a whisper of anguish. ¡°I just... I wish you could see how much we still need that part of you, Eddie¡­ The part you¡¯ve killed that day¡­ The part that believed in Alchemy and the good it could do.¡±


    ¡°There is no good coming from it, Torrie.¡± Eddie said finally, ¡°Nothing¡­¡±


    The silence between Eddie and Torrie was thick, the weight of their argument still pressing down on them. The soft rustling of leaves, the distant hum of crickets¡ªeverything felt muted, suffocated beneath unspoken words.


    Then, a sharp noise¡ªfootsteps, fast and uneven, crushing through undergrowth. A breathless, ragged gasp broke the stillness.


    Markus burst through the trees, his silhouette illuminated by the golden glow of the Eden Flowers. His face was pale, streaked with sweat, his wide eyes darting wildly. He clutched his flintlock rifle with both hands, knuckles white, as if his grip was the only thing keeping him grounded.


    ¡°Eddie!¡± His voice cracked. His chest heaved, each breath short and desperate.


    Eddie scrambled to his feet. ¡°Markus?¡±


    Markus staggered forward, barely able to steady himself. ¡°Catherine¡ª¡± He choked on the words, forcing them out between gulps of air.


    ¡°She¡¯s in trouble. There¡¯s something in there¡­ something huge!¡±