He wasn't looking for answers, but he found a reason to search for them.
Letters to Adamanta
There were some who sought to understand miasma. Others sought to destroy it. And I was one of the many foolish ones who decided to accept it.
Which is weird, coming from an alchemist.
But what more could we do, really. Miasma was part of our history, our way of living, since immemorial times. Sure, there was supposed to be a time in which there was no miasma, but I wasn't born then, I didn't live those times, so I can't force myself to believe they were true. Think about it this way: old research sometimes helps in the present, but eventually most of it will become completely obsolete. In that way, the past may help us believe in brighter times, but there was none of that those days.
Until one day when, Poof, miasma was gone.
Well, it wasn't so much a Poof; it took many days for the wind to finally blow the last of the poisonous mist away from the roads and towns. But the moment miasma stopped being something more than a passing toxic cloud was something palpable. The realization seared the hearts of people, and there was an outcry of joy- an actual yell of victory that ran, I suppose, the world over.
I was in Fum at that moment, accompanying the caravan from Shella, who were making their way specifically to Conall Curach.
We were sitting outside the old caravaner's home, in a rare moment of simplicity when we weren't discussing any scientific or philosophical mystery, but talking about our families and loved ones. Of missed events in children's life, of rocky relationships with siblings, and of long distance love that was happy to be just the way it was. Mostly, I listened.
We had fallen quiet some minutes before, and it was during this silence that the world changed. The piercing sound that came from far away only caused alarm in us and the rest of the villagers. We sprang to our feet, weapons at the ready as we tried to figure out what could be causing such a loud noise. It grew until it was a high pitched whistle, and then it sounded like something crumbled, ultimately ending in a thunderous rumble. But as Amidatty noted, the rumble was coming from the earth.
A small girl called out, Look! Look at the sky! As she pointed, hopping in place. We turned, and saw it: a ring- a ring of clear air! It was expanding quickly, growing, pushing the mist away and letting the sun truly shine on the earth for the first time in centuries.
I followed it with my sight as it soared over me, and squinted at the sunlight it left behind.
Is this really happening? Somebody asked. I couldn't answer.
How many times and how many of us had imagined a clear sky? Was I just having a vivid daydream that had gotten out of my control, making me unable to tell the difference between reality and fantasy?
Almost unwillingly, I walked towards the edge of town, towards the edge of the crystal's protection. Others did too, but I didn't notice at that time.
The wind was blowing strong, and when I finally stepped out of the boundaries of security, I took a deep, deep breath. I closed my eyes as my chest swelled, awaiting the sting of miasma to come painfully and wake me up. But it didn't.
By the gods! People screamed, It's gone! Others had been reduced to cheering, or crying, and I couldn't think, couldn't move. When I opened my eyes, they were filled with tears too. What was I supposed to do now?
Breathe, I said to myself. Breathe; and if this is a dream, don't you ever wake up.
xXx
My father said the path of alchemy is a tricky one, because you're never sure what you are dealing with. It delves with mysteries and the unknown, with trial and error. Variables, possibilities, uncertainties.
He also said that alchemy is something that requires a hands-on approach; that those who sit down and bury their faces in large, old tomes are wasting their time if they don't go out and experience or experiment with the things they read about. And he figured that there was a stereotype to alchemy that advertised it as boring, so that was why Selkies normally weren't interested in it- our kind doesn't really have the patience for it (thought I know most of my friends would love to be able to set things on fire with their minds.)
But my father is a smart guy, and since me and my brother Gan Noo were young, he took us out on small expeditions near the shoreline of Leuda and explained everything we saw. While small crabs and fish aren't as interesting as they are pretty, it does cause a sense of wonder in a child to know that because of those small guys, large fish come and are caught by the merchants and our village manages to thrive.
Most importantly, though, he made the expeditions fun. He was one of the few parents that let their children jump into the water, and challenged us to find the prettiest coral in exchange for gil. Sometimes we were even allowed to go to the shipwreck and dive in hopes of finding treasure.
So we grew up with that curiosity and willingness to explore in us, and we didn't mind a little research now and then. For some reason, though, we weren't chosen to be on Leuda's caravan. We caused a ruckus in town because we had been counting so much on it that we thought it was a given. We shunned people, cursed the elder and were generally displeasing for a while.
But once again, our father intervened and called us on our idiocy. One opportunity had slipped away, but it didn't mean we were stranded on Leuda forever. I don't think he foresaw the solution we came up with, but he took it in good humor when we escaped on a merchant ship. Our mother was pretty angry, but she resigned herself to yell at us from the port, telling us that at least we should bring back money or rare goods.
Guess that's why my brother became a merchant in the end, and we parted ways.
.
They say us Selkies are thieves, but in Leuda it was more like we just shared everything; there was no point in getting mad at one another if we were used to taking things without permission. In the mainland, people don't seem to take too kindly to that kind of mischief.
In Alfitaria, there was a Wanted poster on the streets with the rough sketch of another Selkie. Whatever, I thought; it wasn't my concern at the beginning, but there was something peculiar about the picture: the compact crystal the man wore on his hat. And I thought, That's it! My ticket to the forests and mountains outside the main roads; no more sticking to merchant caravans at last!
It took some work, a lot of patience and possibly illegal situations, but in the end I got one. And so, armed with what little money I had earned from the merchant business and a weapon Marr's Pass' caravan had been kind enough to spare, I finally set out to explore the world the way I wanted.
At first, I was bumbling from one place to another, recollecting as much information and research as I could. It was mostly curiosity what drove me, no real goal, and my father was happy to work with the material I sent him. In turn, I tested his weapon designs and didn't have to worry about much else. The world, to me, at that moment, was simple: there were monsters and miasma on one side, and myrrh and civilization on the other. The trick was in finding a way around our problems, and we had done that a long time ago.
Maybe that was why I avoided crystal caravans in general; I didn't want this comfortable idealization to end.
That changed in Shella one year, when I met De Nam.
I had heard of him before, and thought he was completely foolish. Trying to adapt one's body to miasma? Sounded impossible. But upon seeing him for the first time, I was stunned: the resemblance to my brother was incredible. That gave me a sense of familiarity that prompted me to talk to him; at least once, I told myself.
So I approached his workplace with the pretext of waiting for the tailor to finish making an accessory. It was…humble, to say the least. There was a makeshift table, laden with papers with rocks on them so that the wind wouldn't blow them away; a stool, some barrels with heavy books on them, and a single lantern. And it felt like it was forbidden territory; even the Yukes also in the tailor's shop seemed to avoid getting close to that corner.
He was hunched over some ancient scriptures, but I knew he had noticed me before I spoke. I've heard word of you, I said to him and he frowned at me. I didn't want to have any animosity between me and somebody who looked so much like Gan Noo, so I said I was honestly curious about his work (and maybe I truly was, wanting to hear another kind of philosophy). His mood didn't improve, and for a moment it seemed like he had decided to ignore me.
But I pressed on, saying that this was coming from another man of science. With some reluctance, he began explaining, and I listened intently. As he went on, he became more passionate about the subject, his speech becoming more intricate and retrospective, as if he was discovering new things as he recounted his work. So much that in the end, it may not have been his theories what convinced me, but his own attitude about it.
When he finished explaining, he simply turned his back to me and continued reading. I didn't push it, and left to rest.
We met once more at the end of that day, outside the inn, on the platform from where one can see Veo Lu Sluice from afar.
He hadn't seen another Selkie in a long time; the last time he met the caravan from Leuda, they told him they didn't like Shella very much, and preferred to stay away from it. After that, he hadn't expected to meet a Selkie with the littlest ounce of passion for research in them, but there I was, and frankly, he was glad.
I kept my mouth shut about my philosophy, and chose to ask him about his own.
Weren't people tired of fighting? He wondered. He knew he was. Wasn't people's true forte adapting? He knew he had. He just wanted to be free.
He continued, saying that since he believed miasma was as natural as the wind or water, there was no point in fighting it, because people ought to be in harmony with nature. It was foolish to antagonize something that didn't have a mind of its own; that simply existed without the intentionto cause harm.
In his eyes, people could conquer anything, get anything they wanted. In the end, he was a Selkie, in a strange, noble way.
Before we parted, he asked me about Conall Curach. Amidatty had told him about the desolated place, but Amidatty wasn't a Selkie.
I told him that a Selkie would never, ever see the sun shine in that place, and the death of our ancestors still lingered in the air. The place isdeath itself; no good for our kin, no good for anybody.
.
After that day, I was unsure of what to do. Suddenly designing weapons wasn't as interesting as it used to be. The history of miasma and the world became so much more alluring and…important. I didn't know what direction to take, because it was like starting from scratch.
So I cursed my luck and started from scratch. And I literally began from the very beginning.
The only significant event in geological history that preceded the appearance of miasma was the meteorite. Soon after it plummeted from the sky, miasma appeared. A hundred years after that, monsters were first sighted. It is assumed, then, that the meteorite was the source of these things, although some argue that it was merely a coincidence and miasma and monsters simply took a long time to reach these parts of the world.
In truth, miasma does spread slowly. In the times that Rebena Te Ra was a thriving city, there were already traces of it, but only in inhospitable places. This is partly the reason why, when it began to invade more and more territory, people were able to form communities around the larger crystals quickly.
However, records of that time are, at best, rudimentary. One of the many mysteries about our history with miasma is how we came to know about the necessity of myrrh, and where to find it. Chronicles only go back so far, and they mostly help with the identification of monsters and locations than with the mystery of miasma itself. Where exactly the meteor fell is also unknown. Ancient charts show the impact site to lie west of Rebena Te Ra, but there's an impenetrable miasma stream blocking the way, as if miasma itself was trying to protect its secrets.
My goal never was to rid the world of miasma. I simply wanted to understand. I was sure De Nam knew all those things about the meteorite, but he had decided not to dwell in the past; his research was for the future, and I understood that. He was going for a breakthrough.
After doing some research on my own and only discovering legends and not facts, I sought Amidatty out. De Nam trusted him, and he had his fame as a prominent researcher and alchemist so he probably had many things to say about both the past and the present.
Despite all my tracking him down, we met by pure chance one late evening when Shella's caravan was camping on the side of a main road. At first they thought I was a thief, and it took a lot of convincing to prove I was trustworthy. What did the trick was me tacking out a letter I had received not so long ago and Amidatty recognizing the handwriting on it.
Are you in the same foolish endeavor as he? Amidatty asked, and I was surprised that he believed De Nam's goal to be foolish. As it turned out, he didn't agree with De Nam's vision but didn't discourage him from it, saying that that's not something men of science should do to each other.
I told him my interest was in the past, and he and the other members of the caravan were more than happy to discuss that.
From their wagon they took out what they called a model of the world, which turned out to be a molding loaf of bannock. One has to make due with what one has at hand, so I simply nodded in agreement and let them explain.
The mold represented miasma, they said. Then they pointed at a large whole on one side of the loaf and explained that was the site of the meteorite collision, which was where 'miasma' had first appeared.
I asked what they knew about the collision site and the miasma stream that guarded it. They theorized that since that was where miasma originated from, the toxic gas was in its purest form and wasn't diluted with the other elements of the world. Nobody had been able to cross that stream because nobody could match the element; it, quite simply, wasn't available in any other part of the world.
I travelled with them for a few more days, and even had the opportunity of accompanying them into Selepation Cave.
Besides a scholar and philosopher Amidatty is a fierce fighter, but he never goes at it alone. They're the tightest team I've ever met: Yufina is mostly a healer, while Amidatty and Leonamiel go on the offensive, almost never using physical attacks; Bessamzan carries the chalice and acts as a backup healer. And it's not just strategy, it's trust what they have in one another, and a strong sense of duty… even if it distracts them from their research.
Miasma always hinders our path, Leonamiel said one day before we finally parted ways; we cannot put research in front of the safety of Shella.
She was trying to excuse herself and the caravan. I had suggested that we go to Rebena Te Ra and explore in dept for ancient documents of some kind; we were near enough. They would have liked to do that, but the caravan couldn't stall in one place -especially one so dangerous- for too long and risk getting behind schedule.
I tried to go alone, but as much as I knew how to fight, it was not my forte. The ruins are like a labyrinth, and the inside of the temple is dark and riddled with even more monsters. Sometimes I would simply stand by the entrance of the temple, too weary from just trying to get there, and stare into the darkness and fear taking a wrong turn and suddenly finding myself in the Lich's chamber. That was a fight I could not have won.
Slowly, my research came to a halt. It'd happened to De Nam not too long ago, until he decided to observe how monsters interacted with miasma.
To tell the truth, the conclusions he drew from that worried me. It was logical, almost obvious. Miasma wasn't anything more than a poison, after all; ingesting small doses of it to become immune made sense. It was just… the water in Conall Curach- how it looks like it's mixed with oil, it's murkiness, the long algae and weeds that crawl from it, probably hiding Sahagins beneath…. It made me sick to think that anyone would drink that.
"It brings constant pain," read the letter. I could only imagine. But still…I didn't try to stop him. Sometimes I would begin to write a letter to tell him maybe it wasn't such a good idea, but they were all scrapped in the end. I can't explain what stopped me, if it was curiosity for his results, or if it simply was that I knew he would not stop at my -or anyone's- request.
He wouldn't have stopped… right?
Some months passed, and he wrote again. He was making it, he said; he was adapting, he was sure of it. For a moment I was glad I hadn't tried to intervene- I mean, what if he actually made it? What if he became the alchemist of the century, and got us all our freedom in the process?
However, that was only for a moment. As I read the letter, there was a feeling in the back of my mind, a pressure on my chest… I knew I was dreading the outcome, because it would not be a good one.
It is terrible when one's fear becomes reality.
In his last letter, the handwriting was long and shaky, as if he had had trouble controlling his pulse. On top of that, the ink was smudged, making the message barely readable. But the fact of the matter is that I understood it, and what was written worried me the most.
He was asking me to go meet him.
I heeded his request immediately, and set out of Marr's Pass only a few moments after getting the letter. My mind was reeling. The trip to Conall Curach was so long; would I be able to make it in time? And that letter- he didn't even seem aware of his condition. Was he slowly dying without even noticing? Or did he know, and was that why he wanted me to go?
All I could do was pray that he held on, just- just until I got there. As I travelled as quickly as I could, I kept pressing my Cure ring against my finger, as if to remind myself it was still there.
By the time I reached Conall Curach, it'd been weeks since I got the letter, and yet I still clung to a small hope that he was at least alive.
The ash-colored grass extended before me, until it met the tall weeds at the far end, where I could barely see more than a grayish-purple mist. There was no sign of De Nam at the entrance of the road, so I had no option but to keep going forward. I hadn't gone there in many years, but at least the Hell Plants and Bombs didn't take me by surprise.
I called his name, I announced my presence, and sometimes I even tried to threaten him, yelling that I'd beat him up for making me go into that place. But those threats always fell and became some sort of begging. Just show me where you are, I'd nearly whine out.
Soon I reached the plank path. Fighting became more difficult because of the narrow space; I was throwing fira spells left and right to fend off the plants and the flans, and gravity spells to have a chance against the stone Sahagins. The monsters seemed especially vicious that day, and they were starting to weaken me. Maybe it was because I was becoming desperate or I was loosing my concentration, but my spells began to weaken, and I had to rely on brute force to make my way.
Then I saw it: a wooden shack built on pillars over the water, just a way from the planks. He had to be there!
I began to run towards the shack, but a Gigan Toad crawled out of the weeds. It lashed at me with its long tongue and made me trip. I quickly recovered my footing and jumped out of the way of an ice spell, then managed to pull out a fira spell and set the monster's skin on fire. Once it recoiled back in pain, I ran towards it and began attacking. It tried to jab its tongue at me again, but I back-flipped out of the way and released another fire spell. It was overpowered, and the sorry bastard realized that a moment too late.
Into that last blow, I poured all my frustration. Before that last blow, though, I noticed the eyes of a monster for the first time. Fixed on me, the thing that would kill it the last thing it'd ever see. They showed such raw fear and incomprehension that my mind went blank as I brought the racket down on its head.
I felt something crush, then I pulled the racket back, and it was over.
The body lumped down heavily and laid on its side. I noticed there was something odd stuck on the mud on its paw- a piece of cloth. Don't pick that up, I told myself; forget it and go help De Nam. I tried to walk towards the shack, but a chill ran down my spine and I stopped dead. Wh-why did I recognize that piece of cloth, dirty and torn as it was?
Because it was a bandana, that much I could see. And I didn't want to pick it up, but my body went towards it on its own accord, and with shaking hands, took it. There was dried blood on it, tears on it. The name De Nam sewed on an edge.
My mind went blank. I think I kneeled there for a moment, just looking at the bandana, a scream of anger building up inside me until I finally let it go. I seem to remember another Gigan Toad appearing around a corner, me yelling a threat to destroy each and every single one of those beasts, and a perfect firaga spell.
But that's all I remember. Next thing I know, I'm outside the marsh, camping besides the river and trying to wash the mud off the bandana.
.
I went back home afterwards. On the way there I kept wondering why it was that I was so affected by De Nam's death. Were we even friends? Or were we just colleagues of some sort? I guess it made me angry that I'd never have the opportunity to ask him- I'd never have the chance to ask him anything anymore; not about his research, not about how he was doing in general.
Once back in Leuda I had to explain to my family why I was in such low spirits. I told them the story since the day I met him, and showed them the letters. My father was stunned at the progress De Nam had made; at how close he'd come to explaining the nature of miasma itself, and the little observations he made about how miasma reacted with other substances.
The world has lost an amazing alchemist, he said.
My mother, however, was not so concerned about that. You've lost a friend, she told me; of course you're sad. And as much as I pretended that what my father had said was the thing I was most upset about, deep down I had to accept that I was sadder about the fact that I had lost him- not De Nam the alchemist; just De Nam.
Before Gan Noo returned from a merchant trip, I sent a letter to Amidatty telling him about De Nam's death, just so that somebody else knew. When my brother came back, we both decided to take a break from the outside world and stay home for some good bunch of months. We'd have a newborn brother soon, so what better excuse?
During those months, I made a compilation of the things I had discovered, and the designs me and my father had made. I also made a copy of De Nam's discoveries as backup, but decided not to go too deep into them, not now.
One day a letter arrived from Shella. It was from someone I'd never met before, a Yuke girl called Adamanta. I thought the moogle had gotten the wrong address, but no, it said it on the envelope: To Nor Lit, Leuda.
First things first, she had recently heard of De Nam's death from Shella's caravan. She'd been worrying about not getting any mail from him for a long time now, but had just had the chance to confirm her fear.
She explained she had talked to De Nam during the time he had spent in Shella, and had become deeply interested in his research. She even dared to say that they had become friends, though she was not entirely sure. (At this point I wondered if that guy ever cared to clarify to people what kind of relationship he had with them). She dared because after he left, he kept sporadic correspondence with her.
Ultimately the caravan told her about me and the letter from him I'd showed them. She admitted she was a little jealous; she thought she was the only one De Nam kept communication with. Regardless, she wanted to talk to me about him, just to remember him with someone who understood. The caravan had tried to locate De Nam's family, but they had had no luck. So she begged me to respond.
I complied, and that began a long chain of correspondence between us. De Nam's letters to her contained very shallow information about his research, but he had taken the space to tell her about different things that he also considered important. Mostly, about the legend of a princess and a demon who both ate memories. The princess turned the memories into myrrh; the demon turned it into monsters. Apparently he was very fond of that legend. He had showed a much kinder and down to earth side of him to Adamanta.
In turn, I told her about my experiences with him; how I now wished to be not just an alchemist, but an excellent alchemist because of him.
Soon I was back to researching the old tomes I had at my house, and delving deeper into De Nam's research. I wasn't trying to improve it, I was simply trying to complement it; prove it if possible.
For me and Adamanta, nothing was actually clear. If he had considered us friends or not, we'd never know, but at least we knew he had had some degree of care. He'd told her little tidbits about his life, and to me he had confided his discoveries.
At last I decided to end my 'vacations' and go back to on-the-field research, making it a priority to go to Shella and meet Adamanta face to fa- helmet. Then we'd show Amidatty the things De Nam had left us, but we'd keep a copy for ourselves. It was not something that could be thrown on somebody else and be forgotten. It was ours to keep; we were determined to make the best of it, and keep De Nam's memory alive in the process.
My baby brother was almost a year old by then.
xXx
Shella was in an uproar after miasma disappeared. When celebrations finally died down, the scholars and researchers began to run back and forth between chronicles and reports, trying to figure out just whathad happened. The most popular theory was that it had been a natural phenomenon; something had given in, something had run out.
Adamanta once commented that she didn't agree with these theories. She believed that somewhere out there in the world, there was an unsung hero that had done us all a great favor. Or that at least, the answer lay in the people.
Meanwhile, I'm also trying to solve the mystery. Yes, the miasma stream beyond Rebena plains is taking a peculiarly long time to clear off, but that only leaves the rest of the worldto find answers.
All it has come to now for me is some evidence that tells me the one-man caravan of Tipa has something very important to tell. Just a hunch.
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