Ryris grabbed several small pouches from atop the stack of boxes in his father’s hands. Maxx’ comment had hurt. Yes, he had been thinking about his journey to Keld and the new store, but he knew better than to waste his entire day in the clouds.
“I cleaned the worktable and mixed a batch of base fluid, just like you asked. And, I worked on some recipes to debut at the new location.” Ryris’ tone of voice was biting.
“…and daydreamed.” His father shuffled past him, peering around the side of the packages to make sure there was clear space before dropping them on the countertop with a grunt. “Heavy buggers.”
“You should have yelled from outside for help.”
Max shrugged off his coat and tossed it onto the counter with exasperation. “I did. Twice.”
The young alchemist looked down at the bags in his hand with a sheepish frown. “Sorry. I guess I didn’t hear you.”
“Daydreaming…” His father grumbled and snipped the thin twine binding the boxes together.
Ryris took the pouches to the worktable and began sorting the contents. The two worked in silence for several long moments. He could feel his father’s eyes on his back from time to time, but didn’t turn to confront him. As he laid brittle insect thoraces into a bowl, he was reminded by Maxx’ huffing that the old alchemist was having a hard time coming to terms with his impending departure. Ryris finally decided to break the ice. “Look, I know you’re nervous about me leaving…”
Maxx just snorted, flipped the small sign on the window to read ‘closed’, and turned down the oil lamps. He then locked the door, jiggling the old bolt to secure it. Grabbing a small wrapped parcel from the countertop, he walked past his son and into the living space behind the shop. “Don’t forget to pull the back door closed, or we’ll get a draft.”
Ryris, his attempt at conversation thwarted by his father’s stubbornness, grabbed his journal from the countertop and followed Maxx into their apartment, closing the heavy oaken door behind him. He could instantly feel the chill in the air, and knew the fire had died down significantly. Maxx muttered under his breath and began pumping a small bellows in an attempt to stoke the flames. After a few tries, he swore quietly and stomped his foot. The coals just wouldn’t respond.
Sensing his father’s irritation, Ryris held his right palm outstretched and concentrated on his fingertips. Seconds later, tiny flames erupted from the ends and merged together into a small ball of fire. He carefully moved toward the hearth, mindful not to drop his fiery cargo. Kneeling next to the fireplace, he blew a puffed breath at his hand and the flame jumped onto the wood. Within seconds, the fire billowed up, licking the bottom of the cooking pot and warming the two men.
Ryris’ hand instinctively went to the ornate amulet hanging at his chest, the purple stone warming his skin in response to his actions. His father turned away from the fireplace, arms waving wildly, eyes burning with fury. He grabbed his son forcefully by the shoulders and shook.
“Are you insane?” Maxx’ cheeks immediately flushed bright red.
“It’s not a big deal. You needed help with the fire and nobody’s here but us.” Ryris pushed his father’s hands down from his arms.
“Not a big deal? Well if that isn’t the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard!” Maxx shook his head in disbelief. “It’s not a toy, Ryris!”
Ryris absentmindedly rubbed his hands together, hating feeling like he had to hide. And in reality—he did. Magic users, rare in this time, were looked upon as something to be shunned, hidden. People didn’t associate with them for fear of being hunted alongside them, courtesy of age-old fear mongering. The Old War had left its mark, even after countless centuries.
“I’m not stupid. I only do it in your presence, and not very often. I’m sorry, alright? It was a mistake.”
“You’re awful quick forget what happened to people who had that power... to your mother.” It was harsh of Maxx to bring up her death, but he needed to hit home to his son just how foolish he had been in his actions.
Ryris clenched his fists at the thought of the man who had murdered his mother. The mayor had labeled it a senseless, random crime, but Maxx always believed it was from the magic. He swore that he never blamed her for her own death—but he was always quick to point out the dangers of magic use in an unsympathetic world. Sometimes Ryris wasn’t so sure he completely believed the older man.
Ryris sighed before continuing. “That war is long since over. The people that caused it are dead and gone. Nothing remains of them or their ideals.”
“Says you.” Maxx scowled at his son.
“I’ll be careful.”
“I’ve spent too much time keeping you safe to have you make a silly mistake in the capital. You don’t know who’s watching.”
“I know you’re trying to protect me, and I appreciate it.”
Maxx’ expression grew concerned. “I know there are still people out there who follow the old ways. Your mother’s absence reminds me every day.”
“I’ve managed to stay alive and out of trouble for twenty-seven years so far, haven’t I?” Ryris tried to lighten the mood.
Maxx just grunted before he motioned to the butcher’s block across the room. “Cut up what’s left of the potatoes and onions.” He dumped a meaty bone into the pot on the hearth, before grabbing a sachet of spices and tossing them in, along with some milk and a hefty amount of water.
As Ryris chopped the vegetables, he was overcome with a sense of nostalgia. This would be the last meal he would prepare with his father for a very long time. He looked around the room, taking note of the dozen or so boxes resting near the back door, filled with his belongings and all the merchandise and equipment needed for start-up. In the morning, everything would be loaded onto one of their carts and Ryris would begin the long trek to Keld. The storefront they had purchased, with an apartment above, was smaller than their space in Blackthorne, but would suit him nicely just the same.
When he was finished, he brought the bowl to his father, who motioned him to dump the vegetables in. “Give it a stir and let it boil.”
The older man sat down at the table with a tired grunt, the chair creaking under his weight. He ran a hand through his white hair with a sigh. Ryris followed suit, leaning over and resting his elbows on the tabletop. The two sat quietly for a long moment.
“You said you came up with some new recipes?” Maxx broke the silence.
“I’m not sure they’re ready to be tested yet, but I think they have potential.”
Maxx fished a pair of well-used spectacles from his shirt pocket and perched them on the bridge of his nose. “Well, let’s see ‘em.”
Ryris obliged his father, drawing several pieces of paper from inside his journal. He handed them over with a hopeful smile. “There’s two tinctures for upset stomach, and one for night vision.”
“Night vision? Awful ambitious.” Maxx studied the pages carefully, mumbling to himself as he read. He finally removed his glasses with a sigh and set them and the recipes on the table.
Ryris was instantly nervous. “I know the night vision still needs work, but I think it’ll fetch at least four-hundred gamm when it’s perf—“
“Looks good to me.”
Ryris smiled hopefully. “You really think so?”
“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it!” He pointed a finger at his son. “Just remember to set a fair price. I don’t want to lose money in the capital. I had to pay an arm and a leg for that tiny building.”
Ryris nodded his head in agreement. He and his father had taken an incredible financial risk. They had a safe cushion in Blackthorne, with loyal customers traveling large distances for their services. They had a nice life, with plenty of money in their pockets. Not overly rich by the standards of the Keld nobility, but their well-respected business afforded them some small luxuries that most residents of their village didn’t have the funds to enjoy. Never anything flamboyant or over the top, but quality clothes, a vast inventory, and a choice
roast every once and a while was all they ever needed.
So, when Ryris brought up the idea of expanding, his father had been quite vocal—and not in a good way. He had named one-hundred and one reasons why another shop was a bad idea. Crime in the city. Financial loss. Having to maintain two inventories. His son being away from home. The list went on and on. Ryris understood each and every concern his father had brought up, but in the end, he couldn’t let go of the one thing that drew him to Keld more than anything else.
Independence.
He had been living in the small village since the day he was born. His education happened there, his business training. The only time he saw the world outside their home province was when they went to collect ingredients. True, they had travelled on many occasions, but the journeys had always been brief. And Maxx had always been with him. Always. To Ryris, the ultimate adventure lay far beyond the gates of Blackthorne.
Keld was the biggest prize of them all.
Ryris had been thorough and smart with his arguments, countering every negative from his father with two positives. The crime problem was met with private security and better locks. Financial loss succumbed to a master marketing and sales plan. The inventory issue would resolve itself at both locations over a period of time, with both men restocking through caravans and their own hard work. When Maxx had been in Keld to purchase the building, he even hired a young man to assist Ryris in unpacking and stocking the store, with the option to stay on as part-time help when his son was out harvesting ingredients—surprising the young alchemist with his willingness to be proactive.
They mutually agreed that opening a store in the capital city of Keld would not only be a very lucrative financial decision, but would give the younger Bren a broader view of the world around him. But it also meant Ryris would be on his own, far from home.
The city was big, crowded, and dangerous, Maxx had claimed. He offered to buy his son a weapon—a dagger—to defend himself and their merchandise if he needed to. Ryris just rolled his eyes and told him he was being overly dramatic—then showed him the dirk he purchased from a travelling merchant several weeks prior. It seemed to calm his father’s nerves somewhat.
They had been together for his entire life—especially after his mother and grandmother had died. Both had passed away before he reached the age of ten, and now at twenty-seven, there had been a great number of years where it was just them. They had a routine, a good life together—and now it was ending. He knew his father was having the hardest time with that particular situation.
Ryris knew Maxx would be lonely. But there was a fantastic opportunity for both of them at stake here, and they would have been stupid to pass it up. It was something they had to do—for the business, for the family. And Ryris needed to do this for himself. To prove that he could be independent, run a business, and be his own man. He was a damn good alchemist, of that he was certain. This was his golden opportunity to show the world what he was made of.
The elder Bren got up slowly, his knees cracking. He stirred the pot, taking a taste from the old wooden spoon. “Getting there.”
“Good, I’m starving. I can’t remember if I ate lunch.”
Maxx smirked, his face illuminated by the glowing fire. “Too busy daydreaming.”
Ryris shook his head with a huff and got up, fetching a loaf of crusty bread from the kitchen shelving. “You never give up, do you old man? Who are you going to pick on when I’m gone?”
“I’ll find someone.” Maxx pouted. “I suppose I’ll have to take on a helper. Probably end up breaking my glassware like a nincompoop.”
“It won’t be that bad. Whoever you hire will work hard, I know it. You’ll fire them if they don’t.”
“Damn right. Lazy bastards.” He stirred the kettle. “Then again, I surely won’t miss your constant humming.”
Ryris joined his father at the hearth, clapping the old man on the back. “And I won’t have to smell that stinking work apron of yours. Seriously, when’s the last time you washed that thing?”
“Never. And that’s the way I like it.” His father offered him a spoonful of the stew. Silently agreeing that it had finished cooking, the young man retrieved two bowls and held them out for Maxx to fill. When they were both satisfied with their servings, they sat at the table and began to eat. Maxx didn’t wait long to delve into sensitive conversation.
“I suppose you’ll be looking for love in Keld?”
Ryris nearly spit his dinner across the table. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he tried to hide the instant blush on his cheeks.
“What? It’s a perfectly legitimate question. You’re a good-looking young business owner with what I’m assuming is a healthy libido.”
“I really don’t want to discuss my…uhhhh…with you. Ever.” Ryris suddenly felt very hot.
Maxx shoveled a heaping spoonful of stew into his mouth. “It’s normal to want someone.”
“I won’t have time, Dad.”
Maxx sighed, his tone sobering. He rarely spoke from the heart, so Ryris was keen to listen. “Make time. You deserve to be happy. We’ve been together so long here, just the two of us—and I know you haven’t much of a love life.”
“It’s not like there haven’t been women. But…” Ryris hesitated, tapping his fingers on the tabletop as he contemplated his next response. “…there just wasn’t much of a connection with any of them. There was never that spark that screamed, ‘this is the one’! I’m not going to settle for someone just because I’m pushing thirty. Besides, the business is more important.”
“Nothing’s more important than love. You never know when it’s going to be ripped away.”
“I know.” Ryris knew he was speaking of his mother. Although Maxx rarely mentioned it, the death of his wife haunted him every waking moment. Her presence was still felt throughout the home, however, through small trinkets left on shelves and the ornate jewelry box still residing on his father’s bureau. They occasionally spoke her name, but both men were unwilling to enter into deep conversation about her. The memories stung too much.
“Then get your arse out there and meet new people!”
Ryris understood his father meant well, and was genuinely concerned for not only his well-being, but his happiness. He internally vowed to at least make a go at pleasing the old man.
“For you, I will.”
“No, not for me.” He reached over the table and patted his son’s hand. Ryris was immediately taken aback—physical affection was not his father’s forte.
“For me, then.”
“Good.” The older man withdrew his hand and began eating once more. “Now, enough of this sappy nonsense, let’s get down to business. You better have packed that glassware securely…because I’m not giving you more money to replace those beakers if they break before you even reach Keld.”
Ryris smiled and let his father lecture him one last time.
CHAPTER TWO
*1200 gamm, Onyx mortar and pestle
*1600 gamm, Blown glass alembic
*200 gamm, aspirated toad vomit, dried and packaged
--Proof of purchase, Eirik’s Alchemical Supplies, Keld
Sunlight filtered in through the tiny, frost-covered bedroom window.
Grumbling under his breath, Ryris pulled the heavy down blanket over his head and turned away from the offending light. Wanting to soak up every last second in his childhood bed, he curled into a ball and sighed. He hoped his mattress in Keld wouldn’t have lumps.
His mind flittered aimlessly in a state of limbo—not quite awake, not deep asleep. Images, some he recognized, some he did not, jumped around in his semi-dream state. He imagined what the new storefront would look like filled with potion bottles and ingredient bins, tried to envision all the wonderful things he would experience in the capital city. The grand library, theater, and commerce unlike he had ever seen. Maybe he’d even attend a party or two—if he were invited, of course. Perhaps he’d even get to meet the prince. No matter how nervous
he was, the dream world offered incredible opportunities with no risk involved…
…Ryris was in a grand ballroom, filled with nobles. Their fingers glittered with diamonds and gold, their bodies draped in the most opulent silks and velvet. Music floated through the air from an unseen source, and the heavenly aroma of fresh pastries wafted into his nostrils. Couples danced, twirling each other around on the polished marble floor. Laughter echoed off the walls and the wine flowed like water. Ryris had never seen anything like it in his life. The guests parted on the dance floor as he walked forward, the men bowing deeply, the women dropping into curtseys. Confused as to why they were honoring him in such a manner, he turned to make sure a member of the monarchy wasn’t on his heels.
As he moved, the unfamiliar sensation of heavy fabric sweeping across his legs caused him to look down at his own clothing. He was shocked to see that he was wearing the blue robes of the emperor. Short, worried breaths puffed from his lips. Surely the security guards would be on him in a heartbeat for such a traitorous act.
He tried to rip the clothing from his body, for fear of being imprisoned for impersonating the emperor, but found it pinned directly to his skin. Every time he tugged, searing pain flashed across his flesh. He attempted to scream for forgiveness, that this was all a big mistake—but his mouth wouldn’t open. His hands flew to his lips, only to find them sewn shut with metal filaments. Blood dripped down his chin as the party guests laughed and started to dance once more, surrounding him on the ballroom floor. Clawing at his mouth, he grasped at the metal wires and tried to remove them, only to find them tightening their hold.
The Alchemist: Dawn of Destiny Page 2
