The Alchemists: A Paranormal Steampunk Thriller (The Guild Chronicles Book 1)

by J M Bannon

  A mysterious dark figure flickered between the ball of energy and a shadow, the only constant was the circle of glyphs surrounding the being. The creature lived in a shallow pool at the end of the hall across from the entrance. This reminded Rose of past out-of-body experiences, similar to when Angelica had transported her into her past recollections. This was different, she wasn’t experiencing a past event through the eyes of another, instead she was an outside observer watching events that happened thousands of years ago.

  “Brother, you surprise me with a visit,” uttered the glowing ball.

  “I wished to speak with you about our situation and some changes I would like to make.” stated a bald priest in a toga standing at the entrance to the antechamber.

  “You did not have to sack Persepolis to get my attention,” stated Pruflas.

  “I have been playing your game. I am now the Oraclist of Macedonia, Alexander’s trusted councilor. He is determined to vanquish your man Darius and as reward for my sage council he gifted me Persepolis. Your temple city was mine the moment Alexander's Greek League swept the field and Darius was on the run again. You have no army to defend this city and your play-things opened the gates and subjugated themselves to Alexander hoping the city would be spared a siege and ultimately, destruction,” chided the man as he walked closer to the pool where the energy ball floated.

  “I am keeping myself amused, why would I want to change anything?” voiced Pruflas.

  "It’s just that amusement that concerns me. They expect us to be pleased meddling here to keep us from truly understanding our condition here. You and I are the closest in age, thinking and physical proximity. I have watched you recreate with your toys and create amazing civilizations in your sandbox only to pit them against each other or torture them with strife and discord. Those are the signs of boredom, so let us plan a greater plan. The plan of our break out and return," said the bald man in ornate robes.

  “I have let go of that existence, it was thousands of years ago, in this realm we are gods with millions to serve us.”

  “That bores me,” sounded the Oraclist.

  “You have always been quick to lose attention and run to the next shiny thing,” complained Pruflas.

  “That is where you are wrong. I never have lost sight of how we were treated and I never accepted this punishment. Since our banishment I have been devising a return and I would like you to help,” asked the man.

  “What of the others?” replied Pruflas.

  “I have yet to visit them. We are neighbors, Pruflas. I thought it best to start the discussion with you.”

  “I am not interested and I will tell the others the same, Caiaphas,”

  “As the Oracle of the Great Alexander of Macedonia, I have to expect such an answer and have a response, otherwise my liege would not respect my ability to see the future,” voiced Caiaphas.

  Ten men walked into the entrance of the chamber, they carried a palanquin with a large stele laying on it.

  “Priests, stop,” ordered the Priest.

  Each of the priests supported the palanquin, resting on one shoulder holding the platform tightly with the other hand. The group stopped just behind the man called Caiaphas. All the carriers were dressed in similar robes with one noticeable difference, all were blind, having their eyes cauterized leaving horrific scars. Upon stopping, one priest spoke alerting the group to set down the stretcher. It bore the Emerald Tablet.

  The ten canted, the ritual had begun.

  Caiaphas looked over the stele that laid on the palanquin on the floor. The stone glowed a hue of green, the priests were in full tumult. "Sleep well Brother, in your prison inside a prison," He then shoved the stele with inhuman strength into the resting pool of Prufalas.

  Caiaphas exited the temple without even a look back, leaving the formation of priests to continue the ritual.

  Rose witnessed visions of Azul Hassan and Preston reciting in the midst of the priests. This latest apparition of Pruflas shifted as the ten blind priests chanted. Prufalas flickering energy form changed. She could see his full manifestation on earth, the one so horrifying that mortal men would be driven insane in horror. The entire pool was a mix of putrefied flesh and rot, not seen or smelt but felt in your mind. While she imagined that she could make out some form or substance in the maelstrom of transfiguration it changed too fast to be sure. Part of it may resemble the skin and tentacles of a giant octopus, then the carcass of an animal rotting, but suddenly forming into tendons and muscle that would slither into the pool to form a face or a swarm of bugs. It was everything and nothing.

  As the tablet plunged into the pool, it began a terrific boiling. Squeals and screams were audible, the hypnotic and ever-changing ghoulish menagerie appeared to be trying to get away but instead was being drawn and absorbed by the stone, like water into a dry sponge. As Rose watched the Emerald Tablet absorb Pruflas, the tablet transformed into the journal of Azul Hassan and when she looked up to the priests, all were gone but Azul and Preston. She closed her eyes and mouthed the words she heard in her mind along with them.

  32

  TUESDAY THE 13TH OF JUNE 1860

  4:04 P.M.THE CRUCIBLE CHAMBER

  Her recitation of the enchantment brought her back to the fog- filled Crucible chamber. Strangely, although not making sense to her, she knew the words to vocalize next in synchrony with the other two.

  She continued chanting as she moved to where Preston stood and took his hand. He returned her grasp with a tight squeeze back. Physically it was just Preston and her but she could hear Azul’s voice supporting theirs.

  She saw the journal of Azul on the ground and understood what Preston and Azul were up to but the process was not working completely. Then she remembered what she saw a moment ago in the ancient city and gave the book a solid kick so that it flew within the perimeter of the glyph circle. The second the book crossed into the energy form it sparked and roiled, flickering from the unsubstantial energy form to a filthy, amorphous fleshy ooze. This form was smaller than what she observed in the vision from the ancient Persian city of Persepolis.

  The book, just like the stone, caused the entity agonizing pain. It writhed and tried to pull away but it could not leave the circle. The book acted somewhat like a magnet, pulling the blistering and changing form into the tome as it kicked and jumped about. The incantation was completed and the creature entombed in the book.

  Preston collapsed falling to the ground, alive but comatose. Removing her overcoat, she wrapped the journal in her jacket but then didn’t know what to do next. She couldn’t carry Preston and the book, then wondered if his state was caused by the ritual they had completed or his air supply.

  She set the book down and grabbed Preston around the chest. Walking backwards she climbed the stairs dragging his body up to the control room doing her best to support his upper body with his air tank pressing into her. Once out of the chamber she removed his mask to assure he was still breathing. It was shallow, but he was taking in air.

  As Rose dragged him out of the crucible building Lorelei came running over to Preston’s prone body. “Is he all right? Get a Physician,” she cried.

  Rose propped Preston’s head up on her knees “He is alive but he is out cold. I don’t know what happened to him but we banished Pruflas,” exclaimed Rose.

  33

  WEDNESDAY THE 14TH OF JUNE 1860

  3:00 P.M. ST JOHN’S HOSPITAL KÖNIGSBERG, PRUSSIA

  High Elector Keifer paced outside the locked room of Dr. Maxwell. He looked in through a small view port to see James Maxwell lying motionless on the bed, eyes open staring at the ceiling, his face void of any expression.

  He stopped watching and turned to Dr. Haas and Barron Traube. “Doctor, The Barron says you are the best in the country regarding the sickness of the brain. We feel a debt to Maxwell in there and need to pull his genius back from the abyss.”

  “I would like to consult with one of my past students in Basel regarding electrotherapy innovation
s he is experimenting with, to see if we can change the state of Doctor Maxwell's mind,” stated Haas.

  “He has been in this condition since he was brought in, not a peep or a movement?” asked Traube.

  “Yes, we call it active catatonia. He responds to light, and when on his feet he can balance and will walk when led but, won’t speak or eat and seems immune to pain,” explained Dr. Haas.

  High Elector Keifer took another look through the portal. “We can’t leave him lost. Fetch your student and anyone else you can think of to give us an opinion and a solution to his dementia.”

  “Klaus, I will go upstairs and see how Gilchrist is doing. My daughter has taken up permanent residence next to him until he wakes,” said Baron Traube as he walked away.

  3:16 P.M. St John’s Hospital Königsberg, Prussia

  Rose was reading when Preston awoke in the hospital. Lorelei had stayed with him, never leaving his bedside helping the doctors assess if gas poisoning had caused his collapse.

  “Rose where is the book?” Were the first words Preston spoke as he woke.

  “I have it here do you want it?” She knew how he acted without his security blanket and had it there for him if he needed the book.

  "No, dear Sister you must secure it now, it is the prison of Pruflas," The statement was the accented voice of Azul.

  “Are you OK?” asked Lorelei.

  “We are as best as can be expected,” this answer was in Preston’s voice.

  Preston dove out of the bed and grabbed Rose. Clutching her shirt his eyes were mad and again he spoke as Azul “The book must be secured don’t trust those fools in the brotherhood, you, you must secure the book hide from the world, tell none not even me.”

  “Preston, relax I will deal with the relic. Is he in the book’s labyrinth now with Azul?” asked Rose.

  Preston’s eyes watered. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I had no choice. The stone was gone. Azul offered to use the book to entomb Pruflas. I could not consign Azul to an eternity with that monster so he is free of the prison and lives within me. Can the Doctor bring me some laudanum for the sake of both of us I need to stop the racing and clashing of our minds together?” Preston answered rubbing his temples.

  Lorelei left to get a doctor.

  “Preston, when we were down there did you see the chamber change did you travel with me to Persia in the time of Alexander the Great's campaign against the Persians?”

  “No. We were in the crucible for just a short time once you said the stone was destroyed I knew our only option was to use the book’s prison. We began the incantation, you joined in after a few stanzas,” said Azul.

  I saw Pruflas in true state. I saw the original entombment. It wasn’t the Hermetic Brotherhood, or if it was, they were under the influence of another of the outcast, one called Caiaphas. He said he was going to collude with the other outcasts to break out from this universe or eliminate them. It was another outcast that entombed Pruflas and this one can take the form of a man.

  Preston lay back closing his eyes and let Azul speak “Then this outcast you saw strides the Earth as I speak”

  3:16 P.M. Winter Palace St. Petersburg, Russia

  Today was an informal day at the court of Czar Alexander II, his entourage waited outside the audience chamber at the back of the Winter Palace. The antechamber, also the waiting room was crowded with the Czar’s ministers and attendees, some with state business, others having favors to ask, many just to be seen at court.

  The Doctor sat quietly observing the throng; he listened in on the words and thoughts that made up the web of influence around the Czar. So many conflicting agendas and plans for the Empire that required one man’s decision.

  “Excuse me, may I sit here?” asked a young man.

  “Please do,” answered the Doctor.

  “Do you mind stating what business you have with the court?”

  “I do mind,” answered the Doctor.

  "My apologies I was just trying to make your acquaintance. I have seen you here before and I thought..." Stuttered the young man shocked by the man’s abrupt nature.

  "You are Alexei Strolman, a member of the Czar’s secret committee for the emancipation of the serfs. You are an engineer by training and an expert in the design of mines. You thought you might get my opinion on the plight of the serfs. I don’t have an opinion. There isn’t much you can tell me Mr. Strolman, that I don’t know about your committee or that his Majesty, Alexander has not shared with me already," replied the Doctor.

  The Doctor stood up just before the huge double doors opened to the audience chamber.

  The footman called out, “His Majesty will now see Doctor Kiaafa.”

  He strode into the audience room suggesting to all they need not pay any attention to him. He walked up to the dais where Czar Alexander II sat. The Doctor bowed.

  “Doctor, when I heard you were present at court I wanted to see you immediately. How can the court be of service?” asked the Czar.

  “I have a meeting in town that has been on my calendar for some time and thought I should like to pay my respects, your Majesty. Do you mind if I stay for the open court sessions today?”

  “My loyal Doctor, your presence and advice is always appreciated,” said Czar Alexander.

  “If it pleases your Majesty, I will just take a seat in the back and keep my ear out for any import,” suggested the Doctor.

  “An excellent idea, what have you to offer from your travels west?”

  “Keep your eyes open to the Ottomans and the French, your Majesty,” Kiaafa had nothing to share he just made up the cryptic statement. Then retired to the outskirts of the hall as the others pleaded their cases.

  The Doctor listened intently as Mr. Strolman outlined the progress of the committee exploring the emancipation of the serfs in Russia. Liberal aristocrats supported the academics but wanted compensation for losing land and labor.

  The hardline nobles grumbled and spoke of the foundation of the empire crumbling if the serfs received their freedom. This was a sensitive business, even now in the United States there was open talk of States seceding over slave labor. Russia continued to be weak from a failed war in the Crimea. It would become necessary to give up its feudal agrarian ways to catch up with the industrialists. He was amused by the irony of these men arguing the fates of other men.

  The Doctor moved up towards the dais when Mr. Petrovitch, of Petrovitch Watch Works presented Czar Alexander II with a fantastic celestial table clock.

  “Your Majesty, I have directed the finest jewelers and clock makers to construct for you the most accurate timepiece known to man. Its complex working not only gives you the time to the second, it shows you the day, month, year, phase of the moon and position of the earth within the heavens. You will not find a complication of this level anywhere in the world.

  This design came to me, your Majesty, in a dream after a day of fasting. In that dream, I saw you admiring this clock while signing a great document bringing peace to all the land,” pitched Mr. Petrovitch.

  The Holstein-Gottorp-Romanov family had filled this palace with the most exquisite treasures. This clock would be a fitting addition to the collection, and with its inclusion, Petrovitch could tout his work in the royal collection.

  “Thank you for the gift Mr. Petrovitch. I will place the clock in my private study to inspire me,” Czar Alexander voiced appreciatively.

  The room filled with polite clapping and Mr. Petrovitch bowed. Kiaafa could smell the gloating like a body odor.

  The Czar excused himself from the chamber and the court milled and admired the clock after the liege left the room. Kiaafa walked up to the clock and check the time. He pulled out his pocket watch and set the time on his watch to correspond to Petrovitch’s dream clock then walked out of court. He had an appointment to keep.

  34

  THURSDAY THE 15TH OF JUNE 1860

  12:00 A.M. GRAIN MILL ON THE NEVA RIVER, RUSSIA

  On the outskirts of
St. Petersburg on the banks of the Neva sat an aging grist mill. A large waterwheel still turned in the river but it had been years since a miller took grains to made flour. Above the mill’s old wooden gears that transferred power from the river’s current to the millstone was the rooms of Dimetri Pavlovich.

  Here the Mute toiled by tallow candle and whale oil lamp when he could afford the oil. The flickering lights glinted off the large metal contraption he had built, his main project. In addition, a collection of clocks he had rebuilt, his passion. The clocks sat in the mess and squalor of the hovel. Half eaten bread staled on the table, his pack of stray cats enjoyed autonomy throughout the mill, living on a healthy diet of rats and mice. The room was filled with material he had pilfered from Mr. P or from scraping around St. Petersburg. It was hard to tell where the junk ended and his construct began.

  The machine had been completed for months he just needed to get the courage to take the next step. Mr. P had pushed him to gather that courage with his lack of appreciation.

  Now he engaged the transmission gearbox to connect the old wooden drive shaft of the water wheel and drove power into his machine. Quickly the slow creak of the old wheel was drowned out with the shrill pitch of the box gears, stepping up the heavy, slow rotation into high speed rotation of his dynamo.

  He powered up the system and stood before a copper door frame with no door. The outside of the frame housed wires and tubes that connected to the main distribution panel, this was the centerpiece. He opened a valve and slowly at first water trickled down from the top of the door frame. He adjusted the faucet valves to perfect a sheet of water cascading from the top of the frame to the bottom where a drip tray captured and recirculated the water.

  The clocks struck midnight, ringing and clanging. With that he threw the knife switch that powered the door frame, the sheet of water shimmered slightly. Dimetri took a deep breath and stepped into the sheet of water but he did not come out the other side. When he stepped through his foot landed into the private study of Czar Alexander. He heard the midnight chime of the celestial clock and looked about to orientate to his surroundings. The room was awe-inspiring, a stark contrast to his one room shit hole. There were paintings and fine furniture and everything had a place. He turned around to see the doorway of water behind him. Then he looked himself over noticing he was not wet.