Author: At the time of writing this, it was pre-Lighthalzen on iRO, 2005. That's pretty much it. Enjoy!
Part One
High above the city of Al De Baran, dark clouds and howling wind roared in the heavens. The city priestess looked out her window, and watched as trees danced through the storm. "Something is amiss..." she said, as a bolt of lightning streaked and crackled above her. It illuminated the horizon in a grotesque hue of gray and purple. Before the flash faded, she caught a glimpse of the Alchemy Guild. It stood at the far end of town, hidden in the mysterious shadow of Mount Mjolnir. "It's from there... I can feel it."
After locking the convent door, the priestess made her way to the city guild. The wind tugged at her dress, threatening to blow her into the canal. Strangely enough, there was still no rain. Over the bridge and up the street, the shadows of trees and buildings continued in their wild ballet. None of it unnerved her. As the city priest, she had seen worse, much worse. "But the feeling is growing stronger... almost as if it's pulling me." After ten minutes of walking, she made it to the bottom of the guild's wide patio.
The priestess stared at the wide building. Studying its strange architecture, she paused to dwell on its past. When Rune-Midgard first made an alliance with the Republic of Schwarzwald, Al De Baran and the Schwarzwald city of Juno became centers for research and advancement. Alchemists and sages flocked from afar to trade ideas and theories, along with inventions and applications. With the explosion of research, not to mention the already famous legends of the nearby Mount Mjolnir and Magma Dungeon, the Alchemist Guild inevitably established its home in Al De Baran.
The priestess simply stood there, dwelling on the rich city history, until a strong gust blew past her. Tugging on her dress, daring to knock her over, the sudden wind snapped her out of her daze. Once again, that mysterious pull lulled her toward the door. As she reached out, her hand barely touching the doorknob, lightning struck the ground but several yards away. A loud, shattering crash of thunder exploded, nearly deafening her. Her heart racing, she entered the guild and slammed the door shut.
She turned and rested, leaning against the door for support. She looked up and saw that the lobby was empty. "Strange... Where is everyone?" The Guild also acted as a small dormitory for both researchers and recruits. "Hello... it's me, Sister--"
Boom!
A great noise crashed above, shaking the ceiling. Not finishing her name, the priestess raced upstairs, stopping outside the room from where she guessed the sound had come. She peeked through the keyhole. In the room was a single alchemist; he was leaning uneasily against the wall as if someone knocked all the wind out of him. Baggy eyes proved he had not slept in days. "Poor guy." She stood up and straightened her dress. She held her hand up and knocked lightly at the door. There was no answer. A few seconds later, she looked through the keyhole again. "Little bugger! He collapsed!" She pushed open the door and entered his room.
The room was in shambles. Books lay open everywhere, certain paragraphs circled in red ink. The priestess crossed the room and knelt next to the alchemist. He looked horrible, sitting there unconscious, stains blotching his uniform. She put her hand on his shoulder, saying, "Sir, wake up. Are you alright?" with softness and clarity. She was indeed experienced in such matters: she often helped beggars in the same manner. She held up her hand and said a small prayer, breaking him from his sleep. The alchemist's eyes opened. Serene for just a moment, his face suddenly looked agitated.
He quickly pulled to his feet, "Oh God,! Is it still here?" He rushed over to a small mattress. She never noticed it at all, so many books in large, great piles. The priestess watched as a relieved expression seemed to wash over the alchemist's body. He spoke whimsically, "I put the last of my concentration into summoning her. I guess I passed out." The priestess walked over and peered over his shoulder. On the mattress lay the sleeping form of a young girl. Looking closer, her eyes slowly widened in understanding, her voice paralyzed by both admiration and horror. "Don't be afraid, Sister."
The priestess knelt down carefully, examining the child. She caressed the girl's hair, or rather, muttering almost inaudibly, "Leaves... long, silky leaves." The priestess's soft voice woke the child. Gently, the child's eyes opened, two shades of burgundy looking back at her. "And eyes like roses."
The priestess looked back up at the alchemist, who was smiling down at his creation. Almost as if she had asked, he replied, "Yes, I summoned her... Lif, the homonculus." The little girl cooed, as if she was giggling at that long, silly word. The priestess returned her gaze to the small beauty, now beaming with motherly attention.
"Lif."