Chat With Old Timaeus

“So that’s how I got too excited and made my mixture blow up and send a bolt of alchemical lightning into my chest,” Old Timaeus said, finishing up his story.

“Yeah. No wonder you’re having an out-of-body experience,” I replied, astounded. "I'm just dreaming."

Timaeus shrugged with a wide smile. “It’s fine. My body’s still alive, and my father over there has access to the best healers—oh, oh! Hey, listen, there’s this prodigy who came to the mansion. Just some teenager, but they called her the ‘Empress of Alchemy!’” he said, his eyes twinkling like stars.

“Is she cool?”

“She must be, right? All the servants were so nervous when she came around.” He suddenly slumped with a sigh. “I couldn’t see her do any alchemy, though.”

“There, there, I guess.”

“What about you? How is your alchemy going?”

I smirked. 

He lit up. “Did you do something amazing!?”

“I broke taboos.”

“Tell me! I need to know!”

“I’ve made compounds derived from Gloomspawn fluids.”

His mouth dropped. “No way.”

“I melted through a miracle metal plate.”

“You don’t say.”

“You were such an inquisitive guy. Why didn’t you ever try to work with Gloomspawn?”

Old Timaeus nodded a few times. “I don’t know… Maybe I thought it wasn’t worth the trouble… Weird. I think I’ll make it a point to break taboos then. A compound that destroys miracle metal… Wow.” He showed me a wide grin. “Thank you, New Timaeus. You’re setting me up for success.”

“No problem. Love hearing your stories.”

“And I should get back to them now—-“

“Isn’t there anyone you want to ask about?”

He tilted his head like he was thinking. “Is there? Oh! Actually, how’s Otlan?”

This fucker.

“He taught me everything I knew. I wish I could have taken him with me.”

I took a breath. It wasn’t Timaeus’s fault that he was this way.

“Yeah, I see them a lot, actually.”

“‘Them?’”

“Yeah, Otlan and Mava.”

“Oh!” he said, slapping his knee. “Otlan’s coocoo wife.”

This mother fucker.

He just kept yapping and mocking Mava and her beliefs, unaware of how close he was getting to a spectral beatdown.

“Hey,” I said, with the most forced smile I had ever worn. “You got your soul transported to another world, and you can’t consider that Mava might be right about a thing or two?”

He winced—no, worse than that. Bastard looked repulsed by the thought.

“If she was right about something, Otlan would have confirmed it. She’s just as crazy as the Traditionalists.”

I looked at my fists. I wondered if spirits could bleed.

“But yeah. I wish Otlan could come with me. Oh well,” he said with a shrug. “I’m going home now. Thanks for the ideas.”

“Yeah, please,” I said, standing up. “Go home.”

“Oh, here you go,” he said, handing me a letter.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“A letter from the goddess who transferred me over. I had to cross her to get here.”

“You did?” I replied, taking the letter. “It… It just says “Sorry. Next time.”

Old Timaeus shrugged. “Probably busy, right? It’s a god.”

I put the letter in my pocket. “Guess so…”

Timaeus looked at the door and then at me. The expression on his face was different—almost like there was an emotion that would lend itself to reflection, provoking it. “What are you going to do next?”

I was taken aback by his tone. It almost sounded like concern.

“Me? Well… Gonna keep breaking taboos.”

“That’s good.”

“I need really outrageous compounds if I want to succeed here.”

“So you’re still going to be using this old place?”

“Definitely. ‘Timaeus’ is still an alchemist.”

Old Timaeus smiled. “Good. Thank you for that. That makes me feel a little better.” He patted the desk. “I’d hate for this place to fall into disrepair… People here don’t respect all the amazing things this place has seen.” His smile widened. “Thanks.”

“Yeah… No problem,” I replied, sincerely confused about how he prioritized things dear to him.

He walked toward the door. But I just couldn’t leave it be. I called out to him.

“‘Timaeus also has a family. I’m going to do right by them, too.”

Old Timaeus stopped. His head had a tilt to it. He looked over his shoulder with a raised brow. “I don’t have any family here.”

I couldn’t believe he actually said it. What? Wait, wait, she was annoying, but what about Cynthia? She had come from his father’s ballsack, too—

“They’re all dead.”

I was still in shock. My mouth hung open, but no rebuke came out. And then he chuckled like he had innocently remembered something.

“Oh, I guess Otlan counts… Yeah, alright. Thanks. I really appreciate that, New Timaeus.”

And just like that, he walked out the door, returning to wherever he came from.

I just stood there, dumbstruck.

“Mother fucker,” I finally muttered.