Chapter 18: Seventeen

Head buried in my hands, I sat slumped over a workbench in the lab, tears falling in an endless stream down my cheeks. 

“Cardiac arrest, possible neurological damage… Transfer to long term capsule…Embezzlement… trying to sell the company.” The conversation with the lawyer played over, and over in my head. “Keep your head down…. Gaia corp will be monitoring.Try to do normal things players do in these worlds, don’t speak to any of the reporters who will try to enter the world. Don’t speak ill of Gaia corp to anyone.” 

After leaving my meeting with Davis, I’d found myself transported back into the forge where I preceded to see if  alcohol was as effective for drowning out sorrows as so many country songs claimed it to be.

I guess for now, I'm stuck here. Bitter laughter echoed around the lab as I reached for the jug of vodka taking a deep swig, which left me choking and spluttering. 

“Close your eyes and let the mind expand. Let no fear of death or darkness arrest its course. Allow the mind to merge with Mind. Let it flow out upon the great curve of consciousness. Let it soar on the wings of the great bird of duration, up to the very Circle of Eternity.” A voice said from behind me, causing me to jolt in surprise, not having heard anyone enter the laboratory.

 

 “I Haven’t heard that quote in years, not many people read the Corpus Hermeticum.” I murmured, not bothering to look up from my jug. 

“I would be a poorly educated God of Alchemy had I not read the text said to be written by the earthen god of alchemy.” 

“Some called him a god, others a teacher. I am one who prefers the latter.” I said, looking up and shaking my head with a wry smile as I saw the old man clad in purple, and gold trimmed robes peering down at the retort bubbling away on a nearby bench.

“Hermes Trismegistus?” I questioned, not sure if I felt amused or offended that he would pretend to be such an important historical figure.

“I am not he, though it is in his likeness that I appear.” the old man said, inclining his head.

“You say you are this world's god of alchemy?” 

“I am indeed, and like he whose appearance I share, I am known as Trismegistus or simply Tris. The god of Alchemy, Astrology and Transmutation.” The old man decreed, holding the book and orrery high in the air. “Will you devote yourself to me as a disciple of Natural Philosophy? Bestow upon me a tithe of gold, and I shall grant thee a blessing.” 

“Strange that the god of alchemy would ask for gold, when it is knowledge that an alchemist treasures most.” I quipped, downing another gulp of vodka. 

“You are the first to not simply hand over a bag of gold when such an offer was made to them,” Trismegistus commented with a low chuckle. 

“Hermes Trismegistus did not take, he taught.” 

“Indeed, and are you willing to be taught? Will you devote yourself to the path you have set your foot upon?” The supposed god asked, tapping the spine of his book against the glass retort which I was using to distill Rowan berries.

“I will devote myself to knowledge, to science, and discovery, not to a god. Even if he is a god born from the advancement of science.” 

“This I will accept, and your tithe of knowledge I shall claim.” Trismegistus declared, reaching out and grabbing one of the books I’d tossed onto the workbench. 

Seeing the book the god held, I opened my mouth to protest, but with a flash of light he disappeared, taking the grimoire with him. Oh shit, Darius and Noctus are going to kill me. Maybe I’ll just tell them it disappeared? Darius said they do that, right? Just up and go poof if they don’t like you or something. 

“What happened to giving me a blessing?” I muttered, glaring into my now empty jug of vodka. 

Chink.

A cursory glance up at the sound of something dropping onto the nearby bench revealed a necklace with a delicate gold chain and pendant. Staggering to my feet, and knocking my stool over in the process, I stumbled over to the bench. 

The necklace pendent was a flat ring of gold close to an inch in diameter, with the four elemental alchemic symbols engraved upon it, along with one more I did not know. In the center of the ring was a purple stone that appeared to simply be floating in the middle of the ring with nothing to hold it there. Pressing a finger to the stone, I tried to push it out of the necklace, but it refused to budge. Then I tried pushing mana into it, allowing a small trickle of power to flow into the stone like I’d done with the poker and fire stone. 

The pendant glowed softly, for the briefest second, and as the glow faded, I noticed that the unknown symbol had changed, the engraved script now a glittery blue color.

 It is the same blue color as the Mana crystals. If the other symbols are air, water, fire, and earth, does that make this one magic?  

Calling a flicker of flame to my hand, I directed the fire towards the purple stone and once more the pendant glowed as the flame was sucked into it. This time, the fire symbol became filled with an orange light that flickered and danced.

Water next. 

Dunking the pendent in a bucket of water, I waited for the glow, smiling when it appeared and the symbol for water became a deep blue. A trip outside to bury the pendant in the soil at the base of a flower bed had the earth symbol filling with a woody brown color. 

“Air, how do I get air? There isn’t so much as a slight breeze tonight.” I muttered to myself, pacing back and forth in front of the forge tower. 

“Spinning it in circles above my head didn’t work, and running around with it achieved nothing aside from me looking like an idiot.” I grumbled as I turned towards the forge. 

Once back in my lab, I moved to the nearby window and pushed open the wooden shutter. Arm outstretched, I dropped the necklace, leaning out to watch it fall and searching for some sign of a glowing light. Seconds before it hit the ground, a dark form swooped across the courtyard and snatched the necklace from the air. 

Well shit. I cursed mentally as I watched the dark feathered bird fly around the courtyard, the pendent finally showing the desired glow, but now very much out of reach. 

The crow flew in circles around the courtyard, seemingly mocking me with glimpses of the gold necklace it carried. 

“You know I’m not stupid, right?” I said to the empty lab, gaze fixed on the crow. “The Black Crow, White Swan, Peacock, Pelican, and Phoenix are the five symbolic birds of alchemy. Each representing a stage of the alchemic process. To hatch a crow, from a black rainbow of emptiness, is the first stage of the Alchemist’s great art.” 

Caw.

Landing on the edge of the window, the crow stared at me with dark eyes as it dropped the necklace onto the stone floor. 

“The blackening, the nigredo,” I murmured, chewing on my lower lip as I gazed at the bird. I doubted it was a coincidence this bird came to me after my meeting with the Alchemy god, nor did I believe it’s form being that of crow was one either. 

In historical alchemical teachings the nigredo was the putrefaction, decomposition, or oxidation process of both matter, and soul. Metaphysically, this was done by entering into what is initially called the dark inner world of the soul, by penetrating the external fires within through deep meditation. The process was described as directing oneself within to find true self awareness, and knowledge. To overcome this stage of blackening, one must delve into the depths of their inner darkness, in order to discover the seed of their souls corruption, and through this enlightenment pass into the next stage. 

I wasn’t so drunk that I could not see what this bird represented with it’s presence here, but I was not yet ready to face the darkness, nor move beyond it. Ignoring the bird, I bent and picked up the dropped necklace, and inspected the symbol for wind, which was now a soft white. 

Caw. 

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 The crow let out another croaking call, hopping from the window into the lab and onto one of my work benches where it proceeded to inspect the retort in the same manner Trismegistus had. Then with a flutter of wings it flew up to the drying rack where I’d hung bundles of plants. Watching the crow walk across the rack, seemingly investigating each of the plants, I began to suspect that it didn’t intend on leaving anytime soon.  

Deciding to leave the crow for now, as it didn’t appear to be hurting anything, I returned my attention to the necklace I held, holding it up to inspect the symbols. Pushing more magic into the stone got no further reaction, and neither did fire, so I didn’t bother with re-attempting the other elements. It appeared that the necklace was done doing whatever it intended to do, and disappointingly it seemed filling it with the elements didn’t have any instantaneous grand effect.

There has to be something special about it, otherwise I just got ripped off by some bloke cos-playing as Hermes Trismegistus. 

Clasping the necklace around my neck, I waited, half expecting something to happen, but the pendent simply lay against the base of my throat. 

“Well, I’ve got two choices here. More vodka or sleep.” I mumbled, looking at the empty jug on my bench as I contemplated refilling it. 

Caw. 

Thunk. 

The crow flew down from the drying racks, a bundle of Olisuba leaf held in its beak as it landed on the bench knocking over the jug. Dropping the bundle, the crow proceeded to pluck the half dried leaves off the stalks and drop them into the nearby mortar. 

Even birds can be alchemists now? 

Caw. 

With a low croaking cry, the crow nudged the pestle with its beak, sending it rolling towards the edge of the bench. Catching the pestle before it fell, I went to place it back on the bench when the crow began hopping in circles around the mortar.

 

“You want me to grind the leaves?” 

Caw. 

I didn’t accidentally drink vodka I’d infused with some kind of hallucinogenic, did I? Gods, alchemist crows, necklaces that absorb elements. Yup, sounds like a hallucination to me. 

Under the watchful eye of the crow, I ground the Olisuba leaves until they reached a powdered consistency. There were still some small chunks in the powder, as I lacked a sieve, but it was as close as I could get. The crow then hopped over to the retort, tapping its beak against the receiving flask where a deep red syrupy substance had formed. Blowing out the candle which was heating the retort, I disengaged the receiving flask from the neck of the retort and poured the contents into a vial before putting the flask back into place. The Rowan berries and vodka in the retorts chamber had almost boiled down to nothing, so I left the flame unlit to allow the instrument to cool so I could clean it. 

Vial of red syrup in hand, I moved back to the mortar and poured half the contents into the mortar, stopping when the crow gave a low caw. Picking up the pestle again, I mixed the berry syrup into the Olisuba powder, where it formed a thick paste. 

Caw. 

Looking up, I saw the crow dipping its beak into the leather pouch I kept the ice wisp cores in. Core held in its beak, the Crow moved back to me and dropped the core on the bench. 

“You want me to freeze the paste?” I asked. 

Will the paste freeze? I don’t know if it is liquid enough. I thought as I glanced down at the contents of the mortar. 

Caw. 

Placing its foot on the round core, the crow began rolling it around in small circles. 

“Roll?” I can’t believe I’m taking orders from a bird. I’m never drinking vodka again. 

Caw. 

After rolling the paste into a large ball, I glanced at the crow, who gave a shake of its head. Pinching off some of the paste, I showed it to the crow who again shook its head and hopped over to tap its beak against the nail of my thumb.

Caw.  

I wonder if Bron has a recipe for roast crow? Crow stew? I grumbled to myself silently as I rolled the sticky paste into thumb nail sized balls. 

With the last of the paste rolled, and my hands a sticky mess. I walked over to the bucket of water sitting next to the furnace to wash them off. The fluttering of wings alerted me to the crow's approach, and I watched it land on the lip of the furnace's opening, where it peered at the unlit fire stone. 

“Let me guess, Caw.” I said sarcastically, mimicking the birds' croaking cry and getting a nod in response. 

What am I supposed to cook them on? I guess I can ask Bron if he has a baking tray I can borrow, but it's getting late so he might be asleep.  

 

Walking down to the forge, I glanced around the things Marcus had lying around trying to find something I could use as a baking tray and ended up with a half finished domed shield that reminded me of a cooking wok.  

Back in the lab, I placed the balls of paste onto the shield and after adjusting the flame of the fire stone several times to reach something the crow was happy with. I proceeded to cook the balls. Five minutes of cooking over a high heat saw the balls of paste hardening and taking on the appearance of dark red marbles. Removing the shield from the furnace with a pair of large metal tongs, I carried it over to my bench where I tipped out the red balls into a clay bowl. Once I’d put the shield back into the furnace where it could cool, and be out of the way, I went to inspect the crows' creation. 

Seemingly unbothered by the heat, the crow plucked one of the red marbles out of the bowl and walked across the wooden bench towards me where it placed the marble down. Touching the marble, I found it was not as hot as I’d thought it would be, and picked it up for a closer look. The marble was transparent like red tinted glass, but I could see spots where the fragments of Olisuba leaves had not incorporated. 

Caw. Opening and closing its beak, the crow gazed at me with sharp, intelligent eyes. 

Well, I’ve come this far. I thought as I tossed the red marble into my mouth. 

The moment it hit my tongue, the hardened marble melted into a warm sweet tasting liquid. Energy coursed through me, making me feel like I’d downed three cups of coffee while also giving me the refreshing feeling that only came with a good night's rest. The foggy vodka induced buzz dissipated, leaving me clear headed. 

“What the fuck was that? Some kind of sobering pill? Now I have to get drunk all over again!” I cried out indignantly to the smug looking crow, who was preening its feathers. 

Caw.

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