Alchemist Apprentice (The Alchemist Book 1)

by Dan Michaelson

  “Well, the application is what the essay is about.”

  Homework. Sam hadn’t attended much school growing up, and he had never really had any assignments. Then again, he had never really had time for any assignments.

  “What do you have next?” James asked.

  “Mathematics,” Sam said.

  James nodded. “I have chemistry. A different class, then. I hear that mathematics is straightforward, chemistry can be a little bit of a bear, and alchemy…” He shrugged. “Well, I don’t know how anybody can know what to expect with alchemy now, especially as it has changed from what we knew before.”

  “What do you think they will be teaching there?”

  “Who knows,” James said with a shrug.

  The next bell rang, and Sam looked down at his page. “I have to get to the fourth-floor mathematics tower,” he said.

  “Just up the stairs,” James said, pointing in the right direction. “And I need to go down.”

  Sam hurried to his next classroom.

  Mathematics and chemistry were fairly straightforward. The concepts were not magical at all, and he didn’t really expect anything complicated with them. And as he sat through the classes, he found himself skimming the books, working through them as quickly as he had with the others.

  But it wasn’t just mathematics, though. It was an application of mathematics to the Arcane Arts. Much like before, he didn’t have any ability to use those. So he focused on the conceptual aspect. He could use the year, the time in mathematics, and he could try to learn as much as possible.

  He finished with those two classes and found that alchemy was on the second floor, the same level as the library and the dining hall, but it was in a small room, with stone walls, and the seating was tiered so that he had to climb a steep set of stairs in order to claim a seat. Given that his last classroom had been several floors away, he arrived a little bit later than he had hoped, so there were no seats any closer to the front. He was scrambling toward the back when the door opened. Sam cast a glance back and wasn’t terribly surprised to see Havash stride in wearing the dark gray robes.

  He waited until everyone settled, and then he sent his gaze skimming across the room, starting with the lowest level, way up to Sam, holding his gaze for longer than necessary.

  “We will begin today with a discussion about the theoretical application of alchemy.”

  Sam had a slender book on alchemy, unlike his other classes where there was a large tome that he was expected to read through. With alchemy, it was more cursory.

  Of all of the topics that he could study, alchemy was the only one that he thought had any real application for him. It was the only one that he thought he might be able to actually use at some point in the future.

  “Can we talk about the accident?”

  This came from a student near the front of the classroom, a muscular-looking young man with dark hair, but that was all Sam could make out. Well, that and the fact that he wore a blue striped rope.

  “You can talk about the accident all you want,” Havash said. “So long as you remember that it was an accident and that those who were involved are no longer here.”

  “My brother was here when it happened,” the student continued. “He graduated, but he still doesn’t know, and he thought that if we started having alchemy classes again, I could ask and—”

  Havash raised one hand, and the young man cut off.

  “As I said,” he said. “It was an accident. I believe you all would have heard the Grandam during her initial speech to the students. The alchemy section is off-limits. It is dangerous. The power that is within it is caustic to those with any attachment to the Arcane Arts. We do not know what happened, only that the application of alchemy is unlike anything we have detected before.”

  “Will the section open up again?” somebody else asked.

  Havash turned to them, and Sam sensed his annoyance.

  “Eventually, we will find a way to clear the toxicity, and we will reopen the alchemy tower when it is safe to do so. Until that time, it is off-limits.”

  “I heard all of the other instructors were killed in the accident,” somebody said from directly in front of Sam.

  Havash looked up, and his gaze leveled on one of the students, a chestnut-haired girl.

  “People died. Which is why we take it seriously. As must you. You must recognize that the accident is not to be treated lightly. It was dangerous. Those involved have suffered.” He searched his gaze around the room again. “If that is all the questions on the accident, we will be done talking about it for the year. We will begin discussing the theoretical applications of alchemy and how they can be applied without using the Arcane Arts.”

  “Then why are we learning that?”

  Havash looked up, but he didn’t seem to know who had spoken.

  “We’re learning so that you understand the concepts involved in alchemy, even if you aren’t applying it yourself. Alchemy, for someone who is a master of the Arcane Arts, is incredibly powerful. For those who are not a master of the Arcane Arts, there are still benefits. They are not nearly as significant, as we refer to them as minor alchemists, and nothing more, but there are still benefits.” He nodded to everyone as he looked around the classroom. “Now. Each page in your book discusses one concept that I will ask you to master. We will discuss each topic a day. By the time that we finish, and by the time you begin your testing, you will have an opportunity to prove yourself with each of them. There is no need for you to try to apply any of your Arcane Arts to this. It will not help you in this class. For those of you who have gotten by with your natural talent, you will find that it will be more challenging for you in this class. For those of you who are less talented,” he said, and Sam could practically feel his gaze on him, “you will find that you have an opportunity to rival your peers. Now, open your books, and we will begin.”

  Sam had already read the first twenty pages of the book. He understood the concepts. It was a mixture of metals and how alloys could be utilized in all chemical reactions, which he understood quite easily. He sat there with the book closed and watched Havash.

  As he went through the lecture, Sam realized that he learned nothing that he didn’t already know. It was theoretical but was also basic.

  All of this because of a fear of an accident? How bad had that accident been? Havash wanted him to get into the alchemy section, but Sam had a growing desire to see for himself.

  He might be the only one in the Academy other than the servants who could.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next week passed by fairly uneventful. Sam devoted himself to his studies, applying himself to the books in a way that would hopefully keep him from having questions asked. He spent most of his time in his room studying, and when he wasn’t there, he found his way to the library and quickly began to discover a routine.

  The library itself was open for students from one hour before the first bell until ten bells. In that time, students had as much time as they wanted to spend in the library and were only restricted based on what level of study they had reached.

  The first few days, he wanted to try to gain an understanding of the various topics that he might have to learn about in his classes, James’s warning enough that he felt as if he needed to stay on top of that. There came the point when Sam started to question whether his studies into angulation would even make any difference. At a certain point, he might have the conceptual understanding of what was involved, but without having an opportunity to apply it, there was no point in pursuing studies any further. He had worked through the seven tenets of angulation, and though he didn’t think that he had a full grasp of all of them, he had at least memorized the books that spoke of them.

  Where he truly found himself drawn, though, was to alchemy.

  He knew it was a mistake, especially if anyone were to recognize what he was studying, especially if they started to question his motives, but he gathered books and tore through them with f
erocity while trying to understand all of the concepts of alchemy that he could. When he left the Academy, he wanted to have the knowledge needed to be able to take care of himself until Mia was finished.

  He had even carved out his spot within the library. It was tucked in one of the alcoves near the far back of the library, close to a darkened section called the annex so that anybody who was coming there would have to have gone all of the way through the library and would be compelled to look through stacks that were of questionable value. Most of these were related to more traditional studies. Not only mathematics, which Sam quickly realized was not purely mathematics, but a mathematical application of how the Arcane Arts could be applied, but also to things such as chemistry, animal husbandry, geography, and even more mundane topics like beekeeping and one in particular that had caught his attention the very first day on the pollination of a specific flour.

  He was standing at one of the stacks when voices a few aisles over caught his attention. As he often did, Sam gathered a few books, and then he made his way back to his alcove, setting the books on the desk and taking a seat. He tried to ignore the voices, but they were proving to be quite the distraction. Their voices were muffled, so Sam couldn’t make out everything that they said, but he caught a few names.

  When he heard the name Miana, he perked up.

  Sam had struggled with getting to his sister. As she had not sought him out, he suspected that she must have realized that there was some danger in them, revealing they were from the Barlands. Sam had already revealed his truth, and he would much rather Mia not have the same troubles that he had developed. People at the tables tended to avoid him, and other than James, most of the people within his own tower didn’t pay him much mind either. He had noticed this in other towers, too, where some were more isolated than others.

  When he had asked James about it on the morning of their third day, he had leaned forward, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. “The towers sort of figure out who has potential pretty quickly,” he said. “And if you don’t have potential, they try to help you as much as they can, but…”

  “Wait,” Sam said, frowning as he looked over to one of the nearest tables. The girl was probably a year or two older than Mia, with dark brown hair, but she tucked it inside of her maroon striped robe. “They decide who is going to succeed and who isn’t?”

  James shook his head. “It’s not quite like that. It’s more that only so much effort can be spent on others. At least, that’s what my parents told me.” He shrugged. “It was a warning. If I started to feel isolated, I needed to either work harder or prepare for the possibility that I wasn’t going to make it past the first year. Most of the upper-level students have an intuitive understanding of what it takes to progress, having seen it with other students, and they know if you aren’t going to have the necessary potential.”

  That seemed unnecessarily cruel.

  When he said as much, James just shrugged. “Most are trying to make sure they stay with the Academy. The options for those who are full graduates are endless. Quite a few end up working for the government, and even a few of the councilors were once students here. It’s why so many people want to do as well as they can here. It’s the connections that are made.”

  “What about those who aren’t able to stick around?”

  “A lot of it depends upon when they wash out. If you make it through your first year, you have some opportunities available to you. I mean, it’s kind of hard not to come out of at least a year in the Academy without some useful skills. The further that you progress, the easier it is for you to find good work.” He rubbed the tips of his fingers together. “You know. The kind that makes money.”

  Sam nodded, but there was a different thought that came to him. “You said that if you make it through the first year? I thought everybody stayed during the first year and then was tested.”

  “That’s true. For the most part. There are some who simply just don’t have the talent the tester thought that they did, and they fail.”

  He leaned back. Here he had thought that he was going to be a simple matter of just staying here, receiving his stipend, and then finding a place for himself after that year was up, but what if he didn’t even make it a full year? Havash might not let Mia stay any longer if Sam failed.

  “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. You don’t even have to show that much talent in your first year. It’s more about what kind of knowledge you have.” He grinned. “And you have demonstrated more than most.”

  Sam smiled and leaned back, chewing his food absently.

  That thought had stayed with him.

  It was part of the reason that he’d been driven to head to the library as often as he did, mostly so that he could study, maximize his time here, and perhaps even use the knowledge that he gained in the various books in order for him to do so. If he were to be kicked out of the Academy early, Sam wanted to take every advantage he had. Whatever knowledge that he took with him could be useful later.

  The voices grew nearer, and Sam perked up. He wanted to see who was talking, mostly because they’d mentioned his sister’s name. It was a group of boys, from what he could tell, and the names that were mentioned were all girl's names.

  Sam could easily imagine the type of conversation they were having.

  He poked his head around the corner of the alcove, trying to stay concealed within the confines of the barricade, looking out and searching for anything out there that might reveal who was speaking.

  He caught a glimpse of a blue stripe.

  Somebody from Mia’s tower, then.

  He shouldn’t be terribly surprised by that.

  “I told her that I was going to show her something later.” The voice was deep, confident. Arrogant. Sam immediately disliked it.

  “You don’t know anything about her yet.”

  “No, that’s part of the challenge. She doesn’t talk much. But you take one look in her eyes and…”

  He had trailed off, and Sam realized that he had gotten to his feet without meaning to.

  He instinctively reacted, thinking that he needed to protect his sister, but he wasn’t even sure that they were talking about his sister.

  He recognized the boy. And he was a boy. He was probably the same age as Sam. Definitely not a first-year student. He was the same one who had bumped into Sam on his very first day in the cafeteria.

  “The Barlands boy,” he sneered.

  Sam glanced at the others with him.

  “I didn’t catch your name,” Sam said. The other behind the tall blue striped boy snickered. “I don’t see why that’s funny,” Sam said. “I’m Sam. I’m in the—”

  “We know who you are,” the man said. “Barlands boy.”

  Sam frowned. He kept saying it as if he were incredibly offended by Sam’s mere presence.

  “I was just going to get a few books.”

  The tall boy leaned around him, and he glanced toward his alcove.

  “What do you have in there?”

  Sam knew the kind of books that he had stacked in his alcove. They were on various topics, but given that he had taken a predilection toward reading about alchemy since he thought that it would be the most useful to him in the long run, there were several volumes there that were on alchemy. He didn’t know how long this man had been in the Academy and if he had been here during the accident, but he would know that alchemy was not permitted. And for Sam to be studying it as a first-year student, especially after the warning they had been given, he would raise the wrong kind of questions.

  “The books were there when I arrived,” Sam said. “Nothing of use to me. I’m just a first-year student.” He figured the best way to handle someone like this who was both younger than him but more experienced in the Academy was to offer a bit of humility. Maybe that would appease him.

  But the sneer on the boy’s face seemed to deepen. It did not appease him.

  “I’m sure. You’d better be careful with the kind of things that
you’re reading. Accidents happen around here.” He chuckled. Then he shoved Sam in the chest, forcing him to take a staggering step back.

  His mind immediately reacted, and he lunged forward before realizing what he was doing, pushing him back.

  Then Sam gathered himself. What was he thinking?

  He was here to help his sister. He was here to find information for Havash. He was not here to fight.

  “You don’t need to push me,” Sam said, dropping his voice to a whisper.

  The man glowered at Sam, standing motionless for a moment, but a pale glowing began to build from him.

  “You don’t need to use Arcane Arts against me, either.”

  He blinked, and before Sam had a chance to react, a crisscrossing line appeared in front of him, flowing from the man. It slammed into either shoulder, and Sam was thrown back into one of the shelving stacks, where he got to his feet. He started toward the boy when a tall, slender figure appeared between the stacks.

  “What is this?” The voice was hard and angry.

  Sam had seen the librarians around, but never this man. He had on the gray robe of the masters, and he started to suspect that this was one of the master librarians.

  “I’m sorry, Professor, this first-year student pushed me. When I tried to step away, he tripped over his feet and stumbled backward.”

  The baldheaded master frowned. He swung his gaze over to Sam, leveling it on him for a long moment. “Is that correct?”

  Sam managed to finally get to his feet, and he shot a look at the other boy. His mind raced to decide which way to play this. He could reveal that this boy had used his Arcane Arts on him, and that might be punishment enough, or he could let it drop for now, and hopefully, any issues that might have arisen between the two of them would drop as well.

  His need to remain in the Academy drove him. As did his need to stay here not only to help Havash find what he was looking for but so that he could help Mia.