Learning

Sitting in the alchemist’s laboratory, I confusedly thumbed through the early pages of An Introductory Guide to the Principals and Practice of Alchemy (what a mouthful). Instead of a science textbook or a how-to manual, this book was more like a cookbook than anything else. The bulk of it was alchemic recipes. There was an introductory chapter, but it spoke about alchemy in metaphorical, almost poetic language, saying things like “an alchemist sings what he wishes to see” and “the art transforms the dead materials into the lifeblood of creation itself.” That’s cool and all, but I was a science guy, not an English guy. Metaphor wasn’t good for instruction.

There was just one notable inclusion in the introductory chapter, on the very last page. It read of course, alchemical materials have no power in themselves. They merely act as a storage and a conduit for the alchemist to shape the world. Thus, to create even the least form of alchemic effect, the final step must be an Infusion performed by an Awakened alchemist. Infusing cannot be described by written words, so you must learn from your teacher.

Not very helpful, since my biggest problem was I didn’t have a teacher. I flipped through the book looking at the samples and, sure enough, the final step in all the recipes was “Infuse.” The simplest recipes only needed one, but several of the complex ones also required additional Infusions in the middle of the process.

I snuck a glance Kyn, who as usual was hard at work. At the moment, he was gradually adding water into a purple solution one drop at a time. Based on his behavior the past few days, Arnya’s comforting of him had helped, but he still had a ragged look about him. He was always working when I went to sleep and was already awake and working when I awoke. Although he denied it, I think he pulled all-nighters regularly. Was that due to the scare from the Witch Hunters or the hard task I had set upon him? Or both?

“Kyn, can you take a break for a moment?” I said.

“If you require it, master,” he said.

“I do. Thank you.” He set down the stopper with a sigh. I said “how are you…holding up?”

“Honestly, master? I’m not sure I can do it.”

“Recreate the Potion of Youth?”

“It’s—even if I had a recipe, it would take trial and error. I’ve identified it takes no fewer than 127 Infusions during the process, along with the proper chemical makeup. I haven’t even determined half the ingredients you put in it! And of course, get one small part wrong and it’s a deadly poison. Honestly, master, I have no idea how you did it.”

“Sometimes, I think I don’t either.”

“Can you give me a hint?”

“Um…”

“Please,” he said, looking earnest. “Just tell me this: do you add the saltpeter before or after the 74th infusion? Just that and I won’t ask for more, I promise.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t tell you.” Since I didn’t know. But suddenly I had an idea. “But I can give you a method. Try creating two identical potions with only one difference: in one, you added the saltpeter first, and in the other, you infused first. Then figure out for yourself which is correct. This is, um, good practice for inventing your own potions by trial and error.”

He looked doubtful but nodded. “That will take time.”

“Good science—er, I mean alchemy—always does.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “Now! Oh wise apprentice, I have one more quiz for you.”

“All right.” He looked apprehensive. Maybe he was worried I would assign him another hard potion.

“This is knowledge quiz, so don’t be scared. Now tell me: do you know what ‘Infusing’ is?”

A pause.

“Master...are you joking?”

“Nope.”

He stood up so fast the chair fell over, his face screwed up in sudden anger. “Then you must be making fun of me!”

“No, I’m not--”

“I don’t understand you, master. What’s gotten into you lately? One moment you ask me to create the most complicated potion anyone’s ever seen with no help, and the next you ask me a question that every apprentice is taught on their very first day!”

Oh boy. All the stress of the past few days had boiled over. He was throwing a real tantrum. Well, I had to remember that he was only eleven, no matter how alchemically gifted he was.

“Of course I know what Infusion is! What, are you going to ask me if I know about breathing or eating next?” He was screaming now.

The door to the lab slammed open, displaying Arnya. Man, it felt like she always showed up when something important was happening to me. But as she strode into the room, I saw over her shoulder her grandfather the king and a small group of dogmen guards. The way the king stood, hand upraised like he had just been gesticulating, it appeared they had been in the middle of a conversation just moments ago.

Arnya approached, looking stern. I braced myself for a talking-to but instead she looked at Kyn. “Young man,” she said in the tone of a mother scolding a disobedient child. “What is going on here?”

“Master was being mean to me!” Kyn said. I noticed the meekness in his voice. He was clearly cowed by Arnya.

“However likely that may be,” she said, shooting a death glare at me, “that does not excuse your behavior. A man should always be polite to his teacher.”

“But...but...”

“Young Kyn, I thought you were a man.” Kyn nodded vigorously. “Well, this kind of outburst is childish. Even if the target deserves it.” I appreciated her coming to my defense, but that last comment felt unnecessary. Also hadn’t she blown up at me just recently? Although I was in no position to accuse her of hypocrisy.

Arnya continued “now, a man always apologizes when he does something wrong. Understand?”

“Yes, your highness.” He turned to me, looking penitent. “I’m sorry, master.”

“And I’m sorry as well,” I said. “I shouldn’t have phrased it in an insulting way.”

Kyn smiled boyishly. Arnya prodded him. “Now, didn’t your master ask you a question?”

He nodded and turned to me, the picture of the serious student. “To Infuse, an alchemist who has been Awakened imparts his willpower into the brew by focusing on the desired effect for that Infusion. When it succeeds, he feels a force pass out of himself into the target.” He paused. “Did I get it right?” he said in the tone of a student who knows absolutely that he is correct.

“Excellent work,” I told him. “Last test. How does one Awaken?”

“He either drinks a special potion or has a sorcerer do it,” Kyn recited. “Then he must spend months exercising his new mental muscle. Once he is finished, he is Awakened.”

“Full marks,” I told him. “Tell you what: why don’t we run around outside? We’ve been cooped up in here for too long.”

“It’s ok to take a break?” he said hopefully.

“Of course.”

“Yipee!” He sprinted out of the room, almost colliding with the king.

Arnya called after him “I’ll show you a few sword techniques!”

I called after her. “Arnya, wait--”

She shot me another frosty glare and jogged out of the room. Very impressive, considering she wore a slim dress that did not look conducive to jogging.

I left the room to join the king, who looked amused at the whole matter. “I’m sorry about disturbing your talk, your Majesty,” I told him as us and his guards followed Kyn and Arnya at a leisurely pace.

“Don’t be, don’t be, my boy.” He laughed magnanimously.

“It sure is lucky for me you two were passing,” I said glumly.

“Lucky? Hm, I don’t know about that. After my granddaughter finished eating—at record speed, too—she suggested we take a walk around the castle. She tried to make it look random, but she’s led us past your door half a dozen times in the last mark.” He winked.

“I...see.” I had figured out that a "mark" was about half an hour, so her actions were clearly intentional. I thought about that as the king chatted amiably to one of his dogmen guards, who responded in the dogman language. Arnya was keeping an eye on us?

No, I decided, she must just care about Kyn. If he weren’t here, she wouldn’t give me or this door a second glance. As we exited to the courtyard, I tried to ignore the sudden jolt of emotional pain that thought gave me.