I felt shock as I died. The blade that severed my neck was invisibly sharp, a blur of motion and a clean, instantaneous cut. It's a common misconception that life flashes before your eyes, it is not so. As my head tumbled to the floor, I saw the other passengers' horrified faces. And standing above it all, still grimly clutching the chalice, Maiza...


Thirty people were aboard the Advena Avis as she sailed from Lotto Valentino in the spring of 1711, most of them alchemists. It was through unlikely chance that I found myself among them, though it was an opportunity I sought. I have lived the life of an itinerant scholar for some time now, and I have come to know many places beyond my native Hungary before I arrived this small Sicilian town. My wife and child died long ago to the pox that claimed my village, while I was away on a trip to the Pécsi Tudományegyetem in Pozsony, doing research for a problem I can barely remember. It is no matter. There was nothing I could have done, and had I been there I would be dead along with them. You think me cold, and unfeeling. Rest assured, I mourned my family, and spent many years of my life studying medical science, as if that could somehow undo their deaths.

I have always been driven by the desire to know, to learn more. It is this desire to know everything, that led to my study of the natural sciences and, eventually, alchemy. The alchemists of Lotto Valentino were rumored to be the most skilled in the world, which is how I ended up on the Advena Avis in the first place. Of course, if I had known why they were there, I never would have come.

Young, so young. Was I ever that young? My child, were he still alive, might have been older than this man. But I am old, my hair grey, my face lined. Yet despite his age, this young man, Maiza, is far more skilled, more knowledgeable in the science of alchemy. But there is no shame in this. If I refused to learn from people younger than myself, my only teachers would be books. I made no secret of my desire to know, though Maiza remained reticent throughout our journey. I would soon come to learn why.


"A devil?!"

It was late into our passage, and it was expected that we would see the new world within the week, possibly within days. It was during the evening meal that I learned of Maiza's intent, and suddenly many things made sense. The speed at which he left Lotto Valentino, his willingness to abandon his lab, his work. I confess, I was angry. I wasn't told. I wasn't trusted. And I was incredulous.

I was never an especially pious man. The bible was merely one book of many, and the miracles promised in its pages were fantastical, or far out of the reach of science. Nor had I observed any miracles, at least none worthy of future study. Always there was another, more reasonable explanation, the crops grew well because of good rain, the boy fell out of the tree unharmed because young children are light and resilient. I have learned, in my years, that it is wisest to go along with their proclamations, at least in public. Such doubts are better shared with other scientists, for a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing, to a mind untrained for it. So yes, I struggled to believe, and the words that came from my mouth were little more than reflex.

"That's impossible! It's heretical!" I turned, addressing the room, which had now turned quiet, their eyes turned to me, the stranger in their midst. "You believe this man?"

"I have complete faith in Maiza," he replied, remaining seated, even as I found myself on my feet.

Another man spoke, sitting behind me. One of Maiza's confidants. "I'm surprised, Szilard, I thought you were a scientist."

Another chimed in, this one had long unkempt hair, "Attaining the grand panacea has been every alchemist's dream. If we have to involve some demons, that is merely the price to pay."

"I am a scientist," I said. "But this.. this is nonsense!"

"But what if it is possible," the long-haired one replied, smiling. "Our friend Maiza could be one of the greatest alchemists ever, better than Syneius, better than Zosimos!" I moved to reply but was interrupted a tipsy man laughing, attempting to lead the room in a bawdy song. I let the matter drop.


I didn't have long to wait. That night, in the ship's cargo hold, Maiza prepared the ritual. He and his assistants had carved a pentagram into the wooden floor of the ship. The star was inscribed within a double circle, edged with runes and symbols. The hold's only light came from the small brazier bound to the center of the circle. Its ashes were carefully distributed throughout the lines of the carving. His work finished, Maiza stood and spoke. The room was deathly quiet, the only noise came from the crackling of the fire and the muted rush of the waves on the hull.

"The outcome of this ritual is uncertain. Performing it could be the wrong choice for me, and for everyone here. It came from a man most learned in alchemy. This man, I never saw him age, and he has been known to my family since my grandfather was a boy. This is because 300 years ago, he summoned before him a devil, and received the secret to the grand panacea. No doubt the man still walks among us, without having aged a day. Obtaining this knowledge is the hope behind all alchemy, the reason for our struggles. I will now perform this ritual. I wholeheartedly believe there is more to be gained by trying, than by giving into cowardice. My brothers, I implore you, give witness!"

He turned towards the pentagram and gestured for his two assistants, each taking one of the three proscribed spots in the circle. It will not surprise you to learn that I was at the front of the crowd. Once all were in position, Maiza spoke.

"I summon thee here to this place. Thou art my heaven's Earth, the night of day. Thou art the darkness of light, the goodness of the wicked. Thou art the one who sees, and the one who is seen. Thou art the creator of all destruction, the lover of all men who thou dost despise. Thou art-"

ENOUGH.

Gasps of panic swept through the crowd, many ran from the room. For my part, I was rooted to the floor. How could it be? The fire in the brazier flickered, and shadows danced on the wall.

THE WORDS YOU USE TO SUMMON ME ARE NOTHING MORE THAN TEDIOUS TRINKETS. I HEAR YOUR WORDS CONSTANTLY, AND THOSE YOU SPEAK WITHIN YOUR MINDS. THE SIMPLE THOUGHT OF MY BEING IS ENOUGH TO BRING ME INTO YOUR MIDST. BUT, IT IS NO MATTER. THERE IS NO NEED TO CALL ME BY ANY NAME, MUCH LESS 'DEVIL'. BUT HERE I AM, A SIMPLE IMPOSSIBILITY.

The circle began to glow, the ashes catching the light. Maiza fidgeted nervously, but remained within his place.

I ALREADY KNOW WHAT YOU ARE THINKING. YOU DESIRE THE SECRET OF IMMORTALITY. TO YOU ALONE I WILL TELL THE METHOD TO CREATE WHAT YOU CALL 'THE GRAND PANACEA.'

"But why only me?" asked Maiza, echoing my own thoughts. The glow faded, and a simple chalice appeared in Maiza's hands.

DRINK THIS, AND YOU WILL BECOME IMMORTAL. DRINK, AND YOU WILL KNOW EVERYTHING. BUT FIRST, YOU MUST DRINK.

I was a fool. The simplest explanations are most often correct. If something seems impossible, it usually is. On the streets of many cities, I have seen tricks with cards, with dice, with animals. All illusion. Legerdemain. A cheap trick for a beggar to separate a man from his coin. I felt rage and shame building inside me, that I was taken in by this nonsense, by a simple con. And fury, most of all, for the waste of my time, for my months in Lotto Valentino, for the years working for House Dormentaire. I walked toward the circle.

OLD MAN, YOU WISH TO AVOID AN EARLY DEATH?

I pulled out my mug and scooped a cup from the chalice. "Hardly that. I simply want to put an end to this charade." I took a swig. The taste is difficult to describe, but it didn't taste like much. Fruit, alcohol, ash, but nothing so much as the taste of the stale water. Casks full and empty lined the walls. As for me, I felt… unchanged. As I knew I would. I dumped the rest onto the deck. "As I thought! Nothing more than a fake!"

PERHAPS THIS WILL BE SUFFICIENT EVIDENCE.

The blade flickered, and my head rolled to the deck, blood pooling around my body. The alchemists stood horrified and speechless. A moment passed. Then my blood flowed backwards into my body. My head reattached itself to my corpse, and the flesh knitted back together. After a moment, my heart began to beat, and I found myself standing once again, hands clasped reflexively around my neck.

WELL? HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE IMMORTAL?

I was speechless. The crowd rushed forward, pushing and jostling, reaching their cups for the chalice.

WORRY NOT, THERE IS ENOUGH GRAND PANACEA FOR EVERYONE. I AM NOTHING IF NOT GENEROUS.

It took some time for all to receive their portion, and those that had fled were called back. To a man, we all drank. After all, who would want to die? Eventually, after all the panacea was gone, the devil spoke once more.

THERE ARE CERTAIN RULES GOVERNING THIS IMMORTALITY. IF ETERNAL LIFE IS NOT TO YOUR LIKING, SEEK OUT ANOTHER IMMORTAL. YOUR FRIENDS HERE WILL SUFFICE. ANY WILL BE ABLE TO CONSUME YOU. ALL THEY MUST DO IS PLACE THEIR HAND ON YOUR HEAD AND WILL IT SO. YOU WILL BE ABSORBED, AND YOUR LIFE WILL END. ALL YOUR KNOWLEDGE AND EXPERIENCE WILL PASS TO ONE WHO CONSUMED YOU.

AND IF, BY CHANCE, YOU WISH TO LEARN HOW TO PREPARE THIS ELIXIR… SIMPLY ASK THE ONE WHO SUMMONED ME.


The next morning, we gathered to discuss our newfound immortality. It was to be the most frustrating conversation of my life.

"What do you mean you're not going to share this knowledge?!" I could scarcely believe my ears.

"I am sorry sir Quates, but I have given it a lot of thought. In the end, this knowledge is simply too powerful. It must end with us. No one else must ever know." I could see the cast of Maiza's thoughts, his youthful arrogance. He had already made up his mind. Still, I had to try.

"But we have a chance! A chance to stop death once and for all! This panacea is the cure for the worlds' maladies. We must share this with all mankind. It is our duty!"

"I am afraid I don't agree. My faith in humanity is not as steadfast as yours."

Maddening. How could he not see? There must be some argument, something I could say to change his mind.

"With respect, sir, I am inclined to agree with Maiza. On the whole, I think he is correct."

It was the tipsy man from the night before. A jovial sort, seldom without a smile on his face or a ready joke. Now, his face was pensive, his hand rubbing his chin as he talked.

"As I contemplate the truth of my new-found immortality, it seems that inside me, nothing has changed. I'm more the same as ever. My life will move forward without ever ending, and I feel no different from those whose lives will end. There is a great sadness, I fear, somewhere in this endless future, amidst all the joys that I know will surely come my way. But still, my instincts are telling me there is a great truth in the choice he's made. I think it's better for there not to be too many people like us. This world will not withstand the weight of so many."

"You're not making any sense! Instinct? These are problems we can solve!" Of all the times for my wits to fail me. I didn't understand, and I couldn't find the words to make them see.

"Be that as it may, I feel strongly that we should abide by the decision of the one who has this knowledge."

And then it was too late. The jovial man was popular, and his opinion was influential. Dozens chimed in, all deferential, all saying that Maiza alone should have the decision. If any shared my view, I saw no sign of it. I tasted ash. With consensus established, Maiza spoke:

"Thank you, my kind brothers. Then it is thus decided that, for the time being, all knowledge concerning the Grand Panacea will remain solely with me."

I left the room. I had no more appetite, and I could not bear to stand among them.


I remained in my cabin for much of the day, but I will spare you the depths of my woes. Suffice it to say, I cursed, and raged, and cried, for the people of my homes — Italy, England, Germany, France, Hungary, and all the others who, even now, were dying. Fast deaths from blade or musket, and slow deaths from hunger, age, and pox. Who would be so cruel as to refuse to help a dying man? Knowledge is not like food, it does not diminish when shared. A starving man could be forgiven for not sharing his bread, but this… this was inexcusable. To withhold medicine from the sick is little better than murder and what is the grand panacea if not that? Withholding this elixir from humanity can only be called murder on a grand scale.

These were the thoughts that swarmed through my head, and I resolved to do something about it. I would not rest until I had learned the secret, and I would bring that knowledge, that life, to all mankind. At any cost.

That part would come later. I had no plan, at first. I was crazed, frantic. That night, I went to the cabin of Maiza's favorite assistant, his younger brother. I wanted to talk to him, to make him understand, for him to teach me the demon-summoning ritual. He refused, and made to leave, to fetch his brother. I panicked, and in the scuffle, my hand found his head. I wanted to know.

The feeling was electric, my boots rooted to the deck as the process took hold. A terrible vibration seized my arm, but I could not wrest it away. The boy let out a soft wail, as his body and flesh melted like candle-wax, but shrinking and flowing impossibly upwards, into my open palm. Seconds later, it was done, his empty clothes falling to the deck, with only a little smoke to show where a man once stood.

I cannot describe the rush. A lifetime of knowledge, added to my own in an instant. Secrets of alchemy, memories of growing up along the sea. Family, friends, books, happiness and sorrow, everything he learned, every moment of his life now part of mine.

But it was not enough. Maiza was shrewd, and careful, not even trusting his own brother. He had deliberately hidden part of the ritual, writing it down nowhere, so that only he would know it. How I raged! But the path before me was clear. To save mankind, I must remove those who would stand in my way. Any who would protect a murderer.

I was quiet, I was careful. But it was not enough. Maiza always had men with him, and he reacted quickly. Surprisingly quickly, perhaps he had had the same idea. Or perhaps he only knew I was the only one on board he couldn't trust, couldn't control. I was able to catch perhaps half a dozen. Not enough!

They cornered me at the stern. There was no moon, and the sea roiled dark. Their rapiers were drawn, barely visible in the dim light.

"There's nowhere left to run, Szilard. Nothing to stay my hand."

I looked from man to man, etching each one of their faces into my memory. After all this… No. There's always another way. I let myself tumble backwards, into the frigid sea.

Run all you like, Maiza. I will find you. And I will eat you.