Bab 55: The Old Alchemist
Grotknot's right eye twitched, staring at Boone like a suspect, penetrating deep as a serrated blade.
Boone wrapped his arms around himself. It didn't help that the cellar of the inn they were staying at was as cold as the short mans gaze. There was light, but not much, only a few candlelights, while the room smelt like his grandpappys old socks … The boy wanted to protest and suggest a different location, but the Bork had been grumbling all morning about training him, and the cellar was the only place with a working fireplace.
"What has your Grandpappy and school taught ya about alchemy?" Grotknot said with a boom, startling the boy upright. "Anything about creating Alchellets?"
Boone scratched his head. "I know how to make wart remedy …" Suddenly he was reminded of the crack of splintering wood and the roar of explosions. A thought came to his mind … Professor O'hare limbless in the hospital. He shook and frowned. "but last time I tried I nearly got everybody killed."
Grotknots thick eyebrows lifted while his eyes sparkled kind. "You're not the only one, Laddy." He looked to the fireplace covered in dusty, white webs. "I too nearly killed somebody…why I'm so hesitant to train ya."
It's true then …
The boy heard the bickers of Jostice and Grotknot that rang for an hour before they'd set off towards the inn... arguing so loudly he thought they were going to draw arms and shoot each other down right there in the street. Boone hadn't a clue why neither...thought he'd done something wrong but couldn't figure out what.
He spoke cautiously, "What happened?"
Grotknot knelt down and pulled a jagged-golden rock from his pocket, and it shone like light off glass, illuminating the room. "Lightstone…" He mumbled, rolling it between fingers. "A delicate alchemy of the Borks."
Boone felt drawn to the light. "What is it used for?"
"Mining...mostly," he said. "We Borks are known as the great miners of Primpin Mountains, so we developed lightstone … well it was by accident, really."
Boone stepped closer to the man, reminded of the days when Ma Jean told him grand tales.
The Bork grabbed a ladle, wiped it with a sleeve, then tossed it into the caldron. It rang. "There was a Bork named Mogburg the Bright … Not because he was a man of mind… But Because he forged the Lightstone." The man chuckled. "Anywho, he gathered a handful of snow to create a frost brew, unaware that an ice crystal was at the pit...and, so, when he put the snow into the pot, suddenly a beam of sunlight struck the cauldron — at the very moment the brew froze over — capturing the light inside the crystal." He shook his head. "It is a very delicate and tricky spell to master, and if done correctly it can not only act as light...but as a powerful weapon." Groknot closed his hand and slid the crystal in his pocket. "Now...to begin." He hoisted the cauldron and waddled over to a table at the center of the room. It slammed on top and the man heaved. "Do me a favor and grab a few of them bags over in the corner."
Boone's nose wrinkled as he walked over. They were stacked one on top of the other, each one larger than the next. He squat down and hoisted the smallest bag onto his shoulder, grunting. "What's...in...here…" He gasped, with each step. "Body part?"
"Nonsense," Grotknot chuckled, hosting one bag onto each shoulder. "We are not making a hex..."
Boone held back a chuckle. He set the bag on the table. I hope you're safe, Rynan." He thought.
The Bork slammed the bags on the table and started back for the others. "What we have in these bags are wheat, barely, cane sugar, and hops."
Boone scratched his chin. I wonder what kind of alchemy spell needs these kind of ingredients—
"Are you going to help me," with one might grunt he placed a bag over both shoulders, "or are you going to just stand there and watch?"
Boone's skin grew flush as he hurried over, grabbing two buckets of water. He hopped from one foot to the other, trying to keep as much water from sloshing out as he could.
"Is this an earth alchellet we are making?"
Grotknot set the large bag on the table, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Maybe I overdid it with two-hundred pounds of gunpowder. " He grumbled.
"An earth alchellet? I'm a bork...not a Cyoakian. We Borks specialize in frost alchellets."
"So we'll need snow?"
"Snow or frost runes...whichever you have access to."
Boone's muscles vibrated sharply. He hadn't been put to this much work since being on the farm with his grandpappy. He rubbed his shoulder, thinking about the runes. "I've heard of runes, but have never seen anybody use them."
"No surprise there." Grotknot piled a few logs and flint in the fire pit. He then flicked match, gave a few breathes, and the fire sprang to life. "Runes are expensive and difficult to come by."
"Is it true what they say about them...That only Grand Alchemist can create them?"
"The Alchelitest...that's correct." His voice was haunting. "Your grandpappy and I were invited to the Order of Ai … they wanted us to be a part of their… cult."
"Cult?" Boone said. Never in his fifteen young years had heard them called such a vile name. "The Order of Ai watches over all. They are no cult—"
"No cult?" Grotknot chuckled, poking a prodded iron into the fire while sparks danced around his thick frame. "No...and neither are the Cloutsers, the Nokodum, and the Sathest—" He placed his hand over his lips and rubbed his beard slowly.
Boone looked down on the fire. "I've heard of the Sathest though Grandpappy forbids their mention in our house…"
"As he should…"
"Why?" Boone asked curiously. "I am old enough to no longer hide myself from fear...I know of them...Ma Jean told me when Grandpappy was away. They were the ones who created the prod trials." His muscles jolted and hands began trembling. "What is it about the Sathest you all fear?"
Grotknot glared at the man. "You speak as if one can never be afraid or show fear … everybody is afraid of something … even those who don't seem it." The flames heat was turning Boone's flesh pink, and he stepped back. Grotknot jabbed a few more times then threw another logs on the dancing flames. "Did your Ma Jean tell you about the experiments they were doing on pregnant women?"
Boone's eyes grew, leaning in closer no longer bothered by the heat. "What kind of experiments?"
"Nasty ones … Using alchemy to enhance the children's abilities … what it did was gave them disabilities." Grotknot spat. "Sick individuals… Every last one of them."
Boone's hands trembled at his words while his nerves rattled within. "And they were stopped?"
"They were," Grotknot nodded, "by the Brotherhood of the Bang."
The name didn't sound familiar. Boone pried, "and who was the group? A clan—"
"We were a brotherhood," Grotknot said, the color in his eyes faded, "fighting for our kin…"
Boone sensed he'd forgotten he was there. "You helped bring down the Sathest?"
Grotknot blinked several times, looking down upon the boy somberly. He spoke softly, "The fire's hot, Laddy. It's time to brew some Alchemy."
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone