For millennia a different type of alchemist roamed the human and fearie worlds. This alchemist is different than the common alchemists that use potions and rely on chemistry to produce what they are seeking. This alchemist is more magical but still has to follow the one major rule of the world: matter cannot be created nor destroyed, only remade. This alchemist is called The Alchemist.
Only one Alchemist exists at any given time. Once they die, another is gifted the ability to magically use alchemy and work around the chemistry and mundane potions. How one is chosen to become The Alchemist, no one knows. One day the new Alchemist wakes up and find that alchemy flows through their veins, an odd feeling, no doubt.
Most Alchemists recorded in history and legend have been High Fae. They were formidable with their abilities to use magic and alchemy. Almost all were driven by greed and lust. They used alchemy for their own selfish needs, stealing from those who needed it most. Most High Fae started to detest The Alchemist. Just hearing that someone was The Alchemist started making it near impossible for them to live a normal life, even if they did not partake in any negative acts. It became hard for The Alchemist to stay at inns, drink at taverns, and walk amongst the people. Just when The Alchemist started to leave the minds of the locals, a new one would come about and create havoc, further solidifying the hate amongst everyone.
And then one day The Alchemist just disappeared. The stories remained though. They became legends that were told to young children at night. The hate continued even though The Alchemist became a bedtime villain.
500 years after the war with Hybern
Location: Human World - Headquarters
Emily sat in her office, hiding behind the stack of paper that now covered every inch of her massive desk. She has been out in the field for weeks now, avoiding the paperwork that she knew was building up and waiting for her back at the office. She doesn't like the paperwork though. Artemis usually dealt with it all. She brought him on specifically for the business side of things, but he was off dealing with a family emergency. There was nothing she could do as she waited for him to get back.
Now she tried to do everything she could to avoid the massive stack of paper. She did everything from training, to jobs, to checking on people. Emily is more of a doer. She likes to be out in the field and helping people. Paper and ink bored her. Terribly.
As she finally raised her hand to pull the first sheet of paper off the stack, the screen to the right of her door started blinking green. Excited with the prospect of a job, she knocked the stack of paper to the floor, sending paper flying throughout the room. Stopping to look at the mess, she shrugged and waltzed out of the office, excited to be doing something else.
The screen on the right side of the door told her that a client was waiting in room 392. Emily rushed down the hallway, dodging to avoid the others lining the hallway. Rushing to be doing something, Emily almost missed room 392. Sliding to a stop, Emily reached for the iPad just outside the door. Opening an app, Emily jotted down some notes and knocked on the closed door of room 392. She waited two seconds and pushed the door open.
On the other side of the door was a small room with two grey couches facing each other. The room was painted in a calming blue hue to help distraught clients relax. What was missing from the room, though, was the client. Usually at least one person was waiting in the room. But the room was empty.
Emily's brows furrowed and she walked in, confused. Never had the system glitched. Artemis had designed the system to be flawless, but here she stood, alone in a room where a client should have been.
As Emily walked further into the room, she noticed a small white paper sitting on the coffee table between the two couches. Dread was rising in Emily's chest and she walked towards the paper as if it was going to spring to life and attack her. Standing now above the coffee table, Emily just stared down at the paper, not wanting to pick it up. She knew though, that she had to. Something was wrong and she had to fix it.
The paper felt heavy in her hands though it was as light as a feather. The words on the page were difficult for her to comprehend. It was written in plain English, in perfect grammar, but Emily's head couldn't wrap itself around the message:
I have your friends. 654 Brooker Lane. Detroit. Come alone.
Barely thinking, Emily stormed out of the room and ran down the hallway. She ran past her office and everyone parted, moving out of the way for her. She slammed into a large, metal door, swinging the doors open, banging on the walls inside.
The walls were lined with weapons. Every type of weapon. Maces, swords, bows, knives, tridents and more all sparkled in the warm light that filled the room. Emily didn't even bother to blink or look at any of the weapons. She knew what she wanted and went straight to it. A black knife with jewels embedded in the hilt of the five colors of nature: red for fire, blue for water, white for air, brown for rock, and yellow for energy.
She attached the knife to the small of her back and headed out to save her friends.
Location: Human World – Sketchy warehouse on 654 Brooker Lane, Detroit, USA
Emily barely caught her breath before she threw open the doors of the worn-down warehouse before her. Usually she scouts the place out before she makes her entrance, looking for traps, and the number of people around, but she was so furious with this kidnapper that she barely gave scouting a second thought.
The moment she opened the doors to the warehouse, though, her heart dropped to her stomach. Artemis and her second in command (and childhood best friend), Jake, were chained to the left wall, being held up by their wrists surrounded by rough chains, already rubbing their wrists raw. On the opposite wall was Jaxon, the prince that stole Emily's heart. To the right of Jaxon was his personal guard, Eric, also strung up by his wrists.
What really caught Emily's attention, though, was right in front of her. Drawn on the floor in white chalk was a large circle, almost 20 feet in diameter. Inside the circle was an intricate design of lines and old symbols, connecting each other to the circle.
The color drained from Emily as she took in the transmutation circle before her. It wasn't a common transmutation circle, and definitely not a benign one. She has only seen it once before when she was really young and first learning about alchemy. This particular transmutation circle was hidden deep in an old leather-bound book with no title and with many warnings attached to the circle. And now it lay before her, mocking her, taunting her.
On the far side of the circle was a short man, bony and wrinkly. He wore a dark cloak out of this era and his eyes were dark pits, sunk into his skull. The moment his eyes laid upon Emily, he smiled, sending chills down her spine. She couldn't run. She knew she couldn't. If she did, then her friends were doomed, the love of her life was doomed. Fearing what was going to happen, she took a tentative step forward, but kept a wide breadth, avoiding the transmutation circle.
"Welcome Emily. Good of you to finally join us." His voice was like nails scraping against a chalk board, stinging Emily's ears.
She wouldn't take her eyes off him. She couldn't take her eyes off him. She knew the moment she did, he would make his move and doom them all. So, she decided to keep him talking. The more he talked, the longer it would take for him to take action.
"Who are you?" A simple question that she figured wouldn't cause too much harm.
"Just a man in need of help."
Emily's mouth went dry. The words that she never wanted to hear.
"You do help people, don't you?" the man asked, playing with the end of the sentence.
"Depends on what you need help with," Emily knew what he needed by the transmutation circle on the floor.
"I think you know what I need."
"I can't help you if you don't tell me, though. I might assume and make an ass out of you and me."
All of Emily's focus was on this man. She was hanging on every word he was saying, waiting for the words that were haunting her. He knew what she was waiting for and she could tell he was taunting her, stringing her along as he prolonged the torture.
"I think our little game is over," the man said, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards.
Emily tilted her head slightly to the left as she surveyed the man, confused of his statement. Pain seared through both her arms as she was forced to kneel on the ground. She got distracted for a few seconds and now he had her. Emily struggled in the grasps of the two large hands on either arm. The more she squirmed, the tighter the grips became.
"Not so tough now, little alchemist?" The man was spitting in her face, making fun of her.
All Emily could do was watch as the man walked forward and dumped a bone in the middle of the transmutation circle. Ignoring the pleas of the Emily's friends chained to the wall, the man sauntered towards Emily, with a wicked grin plastered to his face. He stood a few paces in front of her and took out a knife from the dark folds of his cloak.
The knife sparkled in the dim lights of the warehouse. The color drained from Emily's face as the man took her left hand in his. A yelp escaped Emily as the blade of the knife trailed along the inside of her palm, releasing red droplets to the concrete floor beneath. She held in the yelp as the man cut her other palm.
"Do it," not an order for Emily, but for the two strong hands holding her down.
Their grips changed as they forced Emily to her feet. They dragged her to the transmutation circle. Emily kicked and fought the entire ten feet but their hold on her was too strong. They held her just before the transmutation circle, giving Emily nothing else to stare at except the wretched chalk drawing.
Without any notice, they threw Emily down on the circle, finally letting her go. Out of instinct, she braced herself with both hands out, palms face down. And then her bloody palms met the white chalk of the circle.
The circle below Emily started to glow. All the lines that composed the circle glowed a faint blue. A searing pain erupted through Emily and all she could do to hold the scream inside was close her eyes.
Then the pain was gone.
Still on her hands and knees, Emily slowly opened her eyes and she was no longer in the warehouse.
Location: Unknown
Everything was white. The floor was white, the walls were white. Well, Emily assumed there were walls, but everything was so uniformly white, that she couldn't tell if anything was actually there. It was as if the room that she was in went on forever, in all directions. So, this was where an alchemist was sent when they tried to perform human transmutation. They were sent to an infinitely vast white world.
Emily let her gaze shift back to the floor, trying to wrap her head around everything. She had just broken the second most important rule in alchemy: never perform human transmutation. There are numerous stories in the old leather books in her study about people who tried human transmutation. Most lose limbs or organs, but no story ever mentioned a white world. The world where Emily now found herself.
Struggling to understand what was happening, Emily sat down with her knees bent in front of her. Fear rippled through her as she placed her head in hands. She had no idea of how to get home to her friends. She so desperately needed to save her friends. The only reason they are ever in trouble is because of her, and what she can do. She puts them in danger, and she can't help them from here.
Lost in her own thoughts, Emily didn't notice the arrival of two brown leather loafers in front of her. It wasn't until they are started lightly tapping, did she acknowledge their presence. Looking up, Emily gazed at the most perfect man to ever grace her company. He was a stark contrast to the pure white world around her. Her eyes went straight to the black vest and pants he wore, clashing with the world around.
A look of concern was etched into his features, a look that Emily was not expecting to see. But it just wasn't the look on his face, it was also the slight glow that surrounded his very being. It was almost godly, definitely unhuman. And then Emily noticed the ears. The slight point at the top meant he was definitely not human.
"If you go any paler, I won't be able to distinguish you from the rest of the world," the man said to Emily, his voice so pure it soothed her very soul. It gave her a false sense of security around this man.
"Come, Emily, let's take a walk." He extended his hand towards her.
Emily stared at the hand. He knew her name. How did he know her name?
"There is nowhere to walk to," Emily barely registered her own voice as it left her mouth.
"Well, that certainly isn't true. Let me show you."
Emily wasn't thinking. She didn't know what to make of the situation before her. But something deep inside her told her to trust this man, to take his hand and see where he led her. So, she did. Her hand fell limply into his and he gently pulled Emily to her feet.
He didn't let go of her hand and Emily was secretly grateful. She feared that the moment he let go, she would be back on the floor. So, she let him lead her around the white world. But within moments, they were standing before a door. There was nothing special looking about the door. It was a typical wooden door made of pine. A dull silver doorknob accompanied the door. And that was it. There was nothing else to say about the door.
Emily was preparing to cross to the other side of the door when the man stopped before. He stood there and let Emily stare at the door. It was then, he spoke, the first time since he hauled Emily off the floor.
"I need your help."
Emily's eyes widened. She slowly turned her head to gaze at the man. His eyes were glued to the floor as if he was embarrassed to ask.
When he noticed that Emily wasn't going to talk, he continued, "My friends are in trouble, but I can't help them. So, would you?"
A million questions were swirling in Emily's head.
"What do they need help with?" Emily asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"I can't tell you. You have to figure it out on your own."
"I don't understand." Emily was shaking her head, trying to figure out what he meant.
"One consequence of performing human transmutation is to have your alchemy taken away. I am presenting you with a way to get it back."
It was that moment that Emily realized that she couldn't feel her alchemy. There was no faint buzz of alchemy running through her veins. Her throat started to constrict as panic rose in her. The man noticed and placed his hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down.
"Do you want it back?" he asked.
Emily couldn't form the words. All she could do was shake her head up and down.
"If you successfully help them, your alchemy will return and then you can go back home."
Home. Her friends were there, and she needed to help them. She needed to make sure they were okay. The thought of them pulled Emily away from her own terror.
"Who are you?" The question that Emily did not dare ask until now.
The man chuckled. "Me? I am Myron Delevan."
That name was so familiar. Emily knew she knew the name, but she couldn't place it. She racked her brain looking for the answer and then it hit her like a brick wall. She stumbled a few paces away from him.
"That's impossible," she whispered to herself.
"Why is that?" Emily just shook her head at his question.
"Because, Myron Delevan was said to be the first Alchemist but that was many millennia ago. He, you, would be dead."
"And who is to say that I am not?" Emily didn't know what to make of all this. The first Alchemist was standing before her, asking her for help. It was as if the world was ending. She was lost in her thoughts again when Myron's pure voice brought her back.
"I told you, if you go anymore pale, I will no longer be able to see you. You'd camouflage into the background."
"I need a minute," was all Emily could say. She was trying so hard to process it all.
"One, two, thr-"
"What are you doing?" Emily asked exasperated.
"I was going to count to sixty to give you a minute."
"What do you want?" Emily asked, exploding more than she intended to on Myron.
"You misunderstand me. I don't want anything," Myron said, shaking his head, "I need you to help my friends."
"Why can't you do it? Weren't you the most powerful Alchemist to ever exist? What can I do that you can't?"
"You," Myron said pointing at Emily, "can leave this white hell. I, cannot."
Emily went quiet. He was stuck here. He was a prisoner in this white hell.
"I am stuck here," his voice barely audible. "I am here to guide Alchemists like yourself. I pass judgement on them for trying to perform human transmutation or I help them get back home. Most of the time I pass judgement on them because they so foolishly try to bring back someone due to their own greed. It is very rare when an Alchemist passes through here not of their own accord. In fact, this is the first time it has ever happened. So please, Emily, help me. I have been waiting for so long for someone to help."
Emily could hear the desperation in his voice. The pain and sorrow were sticking to her soul and she couldn't shake it. She could help, that is what she does. She helps people. So why did she not want to now?
"So, after I do what needs to be done, I get my alchemy back and I can go home?"
"Yes."
"No strings attached?"
"No strings attached."
Emily waited a few seconds. She wanted him to wait a little longer, the only thing she had over him.
"Okay, I will help."
"Thank you!"
Emily pointed to the door in front of them, "Do I go through this door?"
"Hm," Myron followed her gaze to the door, "Oh. No."
"Then what is the door for?"
"For decoration."
Before Emily could fully understand what he said, Myron placed his hand on her shoulder, and she was gone.
Location: Prythian – Court: Currently Unknown
Emily blinked and found herself standing in a meadow, amongst soft grass and the faint chirping of birds. Within a matter of moments, she was on her knees, bile rising in her throat. She emptied the contents of her stomach on the grass in front her, finally feeling the emptying effects of not having alchemy coursing through her veins.
Struggling back to her feet, Emily stumbled towards the tree line, one hand staying on her stomach as if it was enough to soothe the empty feeling inside her. She barely made five feet when another wave of nauseas hit.
Emily was on her knees again, trying to keep it in. Not being very successful, tears started to prick at her eyes. She felt drained and struggled to stay upright. She tried to walk again but her foot caught on a nearby tree root and Emily fell, hard. She laid on the ground, curled into a ball, and waited for the pain to subside. She waited desperately for the emptiness to fill.
All at once it was as if the birds in the meadow hushed, fearing something was coming. Emily, noticing the lack of noise surrounding her, tensed in the fetal position that she currently held. She was so exhausted that she couldn't get up even if she wanted to. And then she heard it. The rustling of the leaves nearby and the soft padding as someone, or something, walked towards her.
Emily closed her eyes, not wanting to see what was coming for her. She knew she couldn't fight whatever it was in her condition. She could barely find the spark inside her that willed her to face whatever it was. So, she laid there, the soft swaying grass surrounding her, as if telling her that it was going to protect her.
And then it stopped in front of her. Emily shifted her head to get a better look at what made its way over to her. What stood before her sent chills down her spine. A large wolf the size of a horse stood in front of Emily. His golden fur slightly swayed in the gentle breeze and looked down at Emily quizzically. Emily knew she couldn't defend herself from this beast. The look of his curled elk like horns on his head alone told Emily that she couldn't win in this fight. She didn't have enough energy in her system to fight, or to even care. Admitting defeat, Emily closed her eyes and waited for the killing blow.
It never came. Instead, Emily barely registered as she was lifted and placed onto the beast's soft fur. She didn't struggle as the beast started walking. Instead, she let the soothing rhythm of his steps and the softness of his fur swallow her into unconsciousness.