Author's Notes: Damn I didn't realise how short my previous chapter was. It always looks so long on Microsoft Word…Oh well, hopefully this will make up for the short length. Did I mention I love male wizards/heh I'm starting to feel sorry for Trian…poor wizard…every time he's mentioned, it's always about him and his arc wand…

I'm trying to keep this fic under ten chapters (including the prologue and epilogue), as this is meant to be a short story. I can't afford to have 3 full length fanfictions running at the same time. They'll start to drag more than they do already…

Oh yes, and registry for Woosh!'s free-for-all fight is closed. We have our (unlucky) 13 fighters. :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Ragnarok Online, but I own an arc wand…dammit! The poring stole it as well! (vein) DIE poring! (misses) Argh! Come back here! (chases)

Reviewer Responses

L.C. Techno – Aw…at least the alchemist made you want to stick around. :D Sorry, the rogue doesn't make much of an appearance in this fic, though he will in the ones coming up/gg Yay, the Gago's fighting! X3 We're thinking of pitting him against either a knight or a poison dagger assassin. /hmm

Skye Mihalak – Hehe, thanks. You'll see how it's linked in the end. ;) Really/gg

Tom Valor – Yeah, now that I think of it, part of this chapter could have been included in the first one. I've been trying to keep to one main POV per chapter, since I have a tendency to switch POVs like crazy, hence confusing the reader. (sweat) I'll do my best not to let the dialogue degenerate like that. :D

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Ragnarok Online – Things Unforgotten

Chapter 2 – Of Drinks and Hangovers

--

One of the same,

Many different.

Few identical,

Several similar.

--

"Don't you pathetic, cowering weaklings dare touch that alchemist! Or you'll have to answer to me, and I'll be damned if I really need my sword to deal with deadbeats like you!"

The surrounded alchemist, Keilith Themofast looked out to the southern bridge where the voice came from. He saw a formidable looking woman with a huge broadsword strapped to her back. She had short, dark brown hair that was kept from her face with a simple hair band and was dressed as a Pronteran knight. However, he supposed she was a bit of an unorthodox one, judging from the studs on her gauntlets and the fact she was willing to help him for no apparent reason. Keilith arched an eyebrow at the sight of the poring in her arms. Interesting…

"Get outta here, knight! Keep your nose out of alchemists' business!" shouted one angry alchemist. "Go back to Prontera where you and your puny poring belong!"

His words seemed to strike a nerve in the knight, who carefully put down the poring before striding forward towards the alchemist. Sensing danger, the masses of people discreetly moved away from the man just as she slugged him in the face. Staggering back a few steps and clutching his bleeding face, the alchemist screamed, "What the hell are you thinking, knight? You can't just go around beating people up! This isn't Morroc, dammit!"

"Oh yeah? And what the name of Bapho's balls were you going to do to him?" she retorted, pointing at Keilith. "Give him daisies? No bloody fucking purple shit you weren't! I'm not a goddamn idiot!"

A woman stepped forward, the expression on her face carefully blank. "I'm afraid you don't understand," she said politely. "This is an alchemist guild matter that doesn't concern you, lady knight. If you may, please leave."

Keilith inwardly groaned. He sincerely hoped the knight wouldn't believe the female alchemist, or else he would probably have to waste another three of his plant bottles. However, he surmised he wouldn't need to worry, judging from the look on the knight's face. She obviously didn't think the alchemist was telling the truth. "You're trying to kick him from your guild for doing things differently, right?" she asked with a friendly looking, albeit strained smile, much to Keilith's surprise.

The female alchemist paused, before slowly nodding. She looked unsure…Keilith frowned, keeping most of his bubbling anger from showing on his face. It was so damn typical of her! She never could decide whether she wanted him dead or if she wanted to keep him close. At least he'd know where he stood if she definitely wanted his corpse rotting at the bottom of Bylan…

The knight snapped the broadsword from the straps on her back. Everyone subconsciously backed away at the sight of the immense weapon. "Then it has everything to do with me!" Nobody wanted to mess with the scary looking knight, especially when she looked like she knew how to use her giant weapon. The passive look on the female alchemist's face was replaced with a flash of anger before settling into a disturbingly composed expression. Keilith gripped his tomahawk tighter. He got the feeling she was planning something; last time she got that look on her face, he had lost almost everything…

"Fine then, lady knight," she said, her voice dangerously calm. "You can keep Themofast. He can be your problem now."

With a look from the woman, the mob departed as one, many spitting in disgust and throwing Keilith dirty looks. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief before moving towards his floras. Muttering a few words and quietly clapping his hands, he sent his floras back into the ground whence they came. Seeing the large cracks in the paved street, Keilith shrugged off any concerns associated with paying for damages. He expected the guild would cover the coasts, since he used up three of his precious few plant bottles.

Looking up, he saw his metaphorical 'knight in shining armour' tapping her foot impatiently, her broadsword returned to its place strapped on her back. Keilith held no illusions that he was in the clear yet. She still looked angry…

"Thanks," he said, hooking his tomahawk on his belt. "I didn't know how long I could hold them off for."

"No need," she replied, looking agitated. "Just tell me where the hell the nearest bar is and I'll be happy."

"I'll take you there," Keilith offered, much to his own surprise. Realising he didn't know her name, he continued, "Lady…?"

"Lorianne Sharielerin. Just Lorianne is fine," she said. "Just give me the damn directions. I haven't eaten since morning."

"Head down the east bridge behind you and you'll see a bar called 'The Hungry Seal', first turn to your right."

Without bothering to reply, the knight dashed off, her poring hurriedly bouncing to keep up with his master. Keilith grinned as he watched them run off while he took a much more leisurely pace. It wouldn't be long until he saw them again; He was headed for the bar himself.

--

Business was as usual; busy, but not too busy. People constantly filtered in and out of the bar, most of them being alchemists, since it was so late at night, or early in the morning depending on how you viewed things. Lorianne sat alone, eating her much needed meal with a bottle of some sort of alcohol next to her plate. She looked up when someone slid into the seat beside hers.

"Oh, it's you again," she said, turning back to her meal. "I thought alchemists wouldn't need to come to places like these, since they can brew their own alcohol."

Keilith leaned on the bench top. "One argiope steak," he called to the barkeep, ignoring the disgusted look she shot him. "Just because we can make alcohol doesn't mean we can make it taste good," he continued to the knight. "And sometimes brewing is more effort than it's worth."

They sat in silence, the knight taking generous swigs of her drink between mouthfuls of her meal. When Keilith was served his meal, she wrinkled her nose in disgust, indiscreetly moving away from him. "How the hell can you eat that?" she said incredulously, pinching her nose. "It stinks worse than the Culverts!"

"It's an acquired taste, and it tastes much better than it smells," he replied, digging in with relish. "It's an Al De Baran speciality. You should try some. Here." He held out his fork with a small square of argiope meat stuck on the end.

She deflected his fork with her own. "Nothing in Rune-Midgard will make me want to eat giant caterpillar."

He smirked. "A pity…"

They continued eating, their thoughts on other things. The bar buzzed with noise, despite it being close to midnight. Any kind of restaurant or shop in Al De Baran often were open at odd hours (by other cities' standards), mainly because their major customers were absentminded alchemists, who didn't keep track of time very well. Which also contributed to the reasoning behind the city's famed clock tower. It didn't do much to change the alchemists' habits though; they still had their lunches as late as ten at night.

A few minutes passed before the knight spoke again. "So, why is your guild trying to publicly kill you?" she asked casually, finishing off the remains of her food.

"They aren't my guild," Keilith retorted heatedly, insulted at her assumption. "I don't want anything more to do with the damn guild. I have more than my fair share of problems from them."

She snorted. "People don't need guilds, dammit!" she growled into her drink. "People should be free to do what they want. Wars were fought for freedom, but guilds don't do anything but restrict what you do."

"Oh really now?" Keilith murmured, genuinely interested despite his bored outward appearance. "What's so restrictive about the Pronteran Chivalry? I've often heard that they promote liberty, not oppose it."

"That's what they want you to think!" she snapped, slamming her fist on the bench top, attracting a few stares from the patrons. The alchemist arched an eyebrow at her outburst before continuing to eat. "It's full of hypocritical asshats!" the knight hissed, lowering her voice, "They talk about maintaining self control, but I'm the one that gets into trouble when it's their fault they react so violently to insults! Not to mention some of the lusty fetishes some of them have."

"I see…" he replied non-committally.

The knight narrowed her eyes. "You said you weren't part of the guild, right?"

Keilith swirled the wine in his glass, savouring the flavour. "Yes."

"Then I suppose they were trying to recruit you then?" she said sardonically, scepticism dripping from her words. "I've never heard of alchemists trying to kill each other in order to join the guild."

Keilith snorted. "You have no idea," he said quietly, staring at the small bubbles that remained in his wine. "I used to be part of the alchemist's guild, but like you said, guilds are too restrictive. I left a long time ago, but I made some enemies. There are a few that want me to go back, but most would rather see me floating in the lake with a dagger in my back."

"Then just leave this place," the knight said matter-of-factly. "No one's stopping you."

The alchemist looked up at her in surprise. She was idly scratching at her bottle of alcohol's label while tapping her foot against the bench. He'd never really thought of leaving Al De Baran. It was an idea worth thinking about. "We'll see…" he mumbled, finishing his meal while the knight chugged a good portion of her drink.

--

An hour later, the knight was so obviously drunk it wasn't funny. Keilith was surprised she hadn't punched him in the face yet, although she had been less picky concerning other people in the bar. Some frequenters had even taken to betting on the knight as fights broke out. Several drunkards had already been chucked out by the knight and she was happily throwing out several more. The only reason she the knight herself hadn't been thrown out yet was because, in a strange way, she was helping to reduce the damage done to the bar, which the barkeep was thankful for. And the fact remained that nobody wanted to tell her to leave for fear of getting slugged in the gut, or lower down if you happened to be male.

Suddenly, she came up to Keilith (he was somewhat amused at the ways she tried to keep her balance as she tried to walk in a straight line) and slung an arm around his neck. Much to his horror, she raised her bottle and started shouting for some more.

How much more alcohol can she take? he wondered incredulously. She's had to have had at least three bottles by now! Even Baphomet would've been knocked out by now!

He rose to leave the bar. He had only meant to stay for half an hour to sate his hunger, but the knight had distracted him for far too long. "Aw, geez, you're leaving already?" Lorianne said, her voice heavily slurred as she leaned heavily on Keilith. "It's only…only two in the morning! There's still plenty more time in the night!"

"It's three in the morning," Keilith corrected impatiently, irritated at being stopped. "And–"

He was abruptly cut off when she suddenly collapsed on him. The knight, being much heavier than him (stupid knights and their goddamn heavy armour), sent him sprawling on the ground as some snickers spread amongst a few of the regular patrons. Luckily for everyone, Keilith wasn't carrying any of his explosives, but there was still a nasty sounding crack from one of his bottles. After he dragged himself out from under the knight, he quickly checked what had broken inside his coat. Fortunately, it was only a slim red potion, but it was leaving a nasty stain on his clothes.

Staring dispassionately down at the snoring knight, Keilith wished she hadn't gotten involved in his matters. There was going to be trouble coming out of this, he knew it. Damn, he was too tired for this…"Hey, barkeep!" he shouted above the noise of the pub. "Can you lend me your son for a moment? I'm going to need help dragging this lump of armour home." To make his point, he kicked the unconscious woman, with no response.

The barman cast a cursory glace towards the alchemist. "Alright," he called back, turning to his other customers. "Just make it quick. There are still some people coming in." He shouted to a tall, lanky man. "Lyle! Help Mr Themofast with this knight, alright?"

The man blinked before he made his way to Keilith and the sleeping woman. With a friendly nod to the alchemist, he took one end of the knight while Keilith took the other. Together, they both awkwardly carried the woman out of the bar towards Keilith's house, the alchemist giving directions. Upon reaching his inconspicuous house, Keilith let go of his end of the knight to open the front door before helping to carry her again.

They entered a room that was had books stacked all over the place, sheets of papers scattered all over the floor and tables and pots of almost every sort of medicinal plant known. To say the room looked like an overgrown greenhouse combined with a library after a tornado had passed through simply didn't do the mess justice. Lyle gingerly stepped over a half-open book about the history of Glastheim. "You live here?" he said incredulously. "How can you stand the mess? I can't even walk in here without almost stepping on something!"

"Hey, don't insult the mess," Keilith said, absentmindedly nudging a pot to the side with his foot. "Door to your left."

Lyle looked like he was about to comment, but instead settled for shaking his head in disbelief. Carefully shuffling through the doorway (and trying to avoid stepping on anything), they put the sleeping knight on the bed. Brushing his hands off, Lyle doffed his hat before saying, "Well, I'll be off now, Mr Themofast, if you don't mind, sir."

Keilith put the politeness down as part of Lyle's job description. Be nice to the customer and they'll remember you and come back. No one in their right mind would be overly friendly with him, especially with the animosity the guild had towards him. But he was still a paying customer, and he took the pains to be inconspicuous so as not to rouse the ire of others dining. "I've already paid your father my tab and a bit extra," Keilith said. "It should cover all the costs."

Lyle smiled and tipped his hat before cautiously picking his way back out of the house and quietly shutting the door behind him. Sighing, the alchemist unfastened the clasp of his cape and hung it on a hook before taking off his coat and throwing it on a pile of similarly blemished clothing. Getting rid of stains left behind by spilled potions was a highly tedious task, hence Keilith didn't bother with it. He'd just wear it when he was working something that was highly volatile or something

Untucking the black shirt he wore underneath, Keilith wandered over to his desk and slumped in the chair in front of it, suddenly feeling very tired. He spotted the knight's poring watching the changing colours of his carefully cultivated shining plant with fascination, but he didn't pay the creature any heed. He was too tired to think too hard about anything right now. With a yawn, he leaned on the desk, pillowing his head in his arms, and fell asleep.

--

He knew he was in Morroc from the structure of the buildings, even though he had never actually been there before. He had seen pictures of the magnificent palace at the centre of the desert city, although Morroc had fallen far from grace since the time of Osiris. Spotting someone in the distance, he found his eyes being drawn towards the person, despite there being several other people milling around. The boy – that's all he was, really – was running amidst the crowd with a grin that could almost be described as insane. He wore simple clothing, like any non-impoverished resident, yet Keilith was certain the boy was a thief. A lock of his dark brown hair covered one eye, giving him an oddly mischievous look.

As he ran, bolts of fire and the glowing lights of a soul strike trailed behind him. He leaped, jumped and twisted out of the way to avoid being hit by the barrage of spells, laughing all the time while he clutched an ornate arc wand. An ice wall suddenly sprung up in front of him, but he simply ran to the edge of it, bounced off the wall of a house and used the barrier to help him jump onto the roof. He seemed to be enjoying himself far too much as he swung from a washing line back down to the ground again. As he passed Keilith, the alchemist caught a glimpse of the boy's face and took a step back in surprise.

"…Those eyes…" He had seen them somewhere before…

Suddenly a voice called out. "Wow, hode-face sure knows how to make things exciting, doesn't he, NightEyes?"

--

Keilith woke to early morning light from his window hitting him full in the face. Squinting, he shielded his eyes from the sun's rays until they could adjust to the brightness. Damn, he still felt tired. He must've only gotten, what, two or three hours of sleep. And that dream didn't help his head feel any better. And he'd probably have to make a hangover remedy for the knight before she woke up and trashed the place or something. He groaned. He needed some coffee…

Mumbling a list of profanities under his breath, the alchemist dragged himself away from the table and went to find the kitchen. Almost walking into a wall, he searched around for some of his coffee he had put somewhere around here. Soon though, Keilith had a steaming hot cup of coffee in his hands, easing away some of the tiredness he had accumulated over several days. However, it didn't do anything to get rid of the fuzz that was hanging over his mind. His immediate need for coffee satisfied, he stumbled back into the main room to begin making a hangover remedy for the knight.

As Keilith set about brewing the mixture, he briefly wondered why he was doing all this for a knight he barely knew. Maybe it was because she was the first person that had ever helped him before. Or perhaps it was because he found many of her views coincided with his own. His mind recalled part of their earlier conversation.

"People don't need guilds, dammit!"

"Guilds don't do anything but restrict what you do."

"Then just leave this place. No one's stopping you."

With a small smile, he reached out to pluck a leaf from the aloe plant growing by the windowsill, adding it to the gross looking brew. He'd often complained of the alchemist's guild being like chains, restricting his want to further advance alchemy, but he'd never done anything to get around the problem. There really wasn't much that was keeping him from leaving Al De Baran, perhaps except for the rare plants that he had painstakingly grown himself. Perhaps the guild had had a better hold on him than he had previously thought. Or was it her…?

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Lorianne's poring watching his every move intently from one of the stools in the middle of all his clutter. Pausing, he stared at the poring, who stared back. The creature seemed more intelligent than the others of his kind bouncing in the Pronteran fields. Yet, the poring didn't have the ability to speak, or at least, didn't want to speak. If it was the former (which he strongly suspected), he may have to rethink his theory regarding talking pets. It seemed that every time he derived useful information that would help him create an imperfect Homunculus, man-made creatures with the intelligence of a person and the ability to speak in human tongue, something would come along and prove his theories wrong. So much work for a Homunculus that wasn't even complete…

Keilith rubbed his eyes tiredly, feeling a headache coming on. He briefly wondered if all the time and effort he put into secretly researching a forbidden art was worth it. It had certainly driven him to become an outcast in the alchemy world, though those fools certainly had no idea what he was doing. He had taken great pains to make sure that there was no tangible evidence of his research, even in his own home. He knew he was being watched carefully; the leader of the alchemist guild was extremely cynical and distrustful, especially when it came to him. The alchemist looked up at the poring again, who had a suspiciously innocent look on his blobby face. Maybe he'd make one last go at it…

I think it's time I left this place…

Hearing a muffled thump from the direction of his room, Keilith sighed, getting up to see to the knight. No doubt she had fallen on some of his books. Keilith leant against the door frame, feeling a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he regarded the knight's dishevelled and disorientated state. "I've got a hangover remedy."

She winced at the sound of his voice. "Don't need your damn remedy," he snapped, clutching her head.

Keilith folded his arms. "Think about it this way," he said. "If you take the hangover remedy, you won't trash my place, and if you don't trash my place, I won't have to blow you up. Blowing people up leaves a nasty hole in my floor, not to mention what it does to my roof." He held up the tube with the angry looking liquid to further illustrate his point. Well, what he said was true. There was a reason why there was strange looking bloodstain surrounded by burn marks on his wooden floor…

The knight seemed torn between either stubbornly sticking to her guns or accepting the hangover remedy and getting rid of the hammer of pain that was slamming into her head. "…Fine. Give me the damn thing."

The alchemist grinned. "Knew you'd see it my way."

Sauntering back to the main room, Keilith poured his disgusting looking brew into a cup. He looked up to see the knight's poring staring at him again. Dammit, didn't the damn blob have anything better to do than to watch his every move? Keilith wouldn't admit, even to himself, that it was disconcerting to be observed so closely, even if it was just a poring that was staring at him. Shrugging off the prickling sensation he was getting down his back, Keilith returned to his room with the cup and proffered it to the knight, who was sitting up and groggily squinting around.

"Damn, did you make this crap?" she sniffed disdainfully, unsteadily taking the cup. "It better not taste as foul as it looks."

"Don't worry, it doesn't," he said reassuringly. "It just tastes worse," he added with a smirk as she gagged on his concoction.

Swallowing a mouthful of the remedy with great difficulty, she choked out furiously, "What the hell? Are trying to kill me or something?"

Keilith turned and walked out with a grin. "Drink it all, knight," he said with a backward wave. "You'll feel better in no time."

The alchemist felt inexplicably happy as he listened to the stream of cussing coming from his room as he picked up some of his books off the floor. Hmm…Universal Theory. He wouldn't be needing that. The Immortals. He didn't intend to go out and fight those incredibly powerful beings, so there was no need for that either.

He picked up a comprehensive guide to plants and thumbed through the pages in mild interest. There was basic application of common herbs to the incomplete research and speculation about the Yggdrasil, the World Tree. Many adventurers told of the amazing healing powers of Yggdrasil seeds and berries and several bards had sung of the miraculous revival of heroes near death. However something nagged Keilith every time someone mentioned anything related to the Yggdrasil.

…No one had actually seen the tree.

The book he held thought it was because the tree was everywhere, all the time. In other words, it was Rune-Midgard, but Keilith thought otherwise. Where else did the berries come from? They couldn't magically appear on the ground! And if there were seeds, that meant a tree could grow from it, right?

Keilith slapped the book into his face. Dammit, he was doing it again! He was getting distracted from his main work. Too many things he wanted to achieve and so little time. Ugh…

"That book's going to get stuck on the end of your nose if you keep on reading like that."

The alchemist lifted the book and peered out at the knight from under the pages. "I was thinking that seeing the ink on this page is preferable to seeing your face."

She bristled at his words, her grip on his cup tightening as if she would've dearly loved to throw it at his face. "I was thinking that if your remedy didn't work so damn well, you'd look prettier without eyes," she growled.

Ignoring her, Keilith dropped the book on the floor before picking up a volume about the flora and fauna of Mt Mjolnir, idly flipping through it. Several moments of simmering silence passed before he snapped the book shut and stomped around the room, searching for something. Where was it? He was sure he put it somewhere around here…

"…What are you doing?" the knight finally asked after several minutes of watching him dig through all his things.

Oh, wait, his hand axe was still hung on his belt. Keilith resisted the urge to hit himself in the head for being so stupid. God, if he was starting to be so preoccupied that he can't even remember where he kept his tomahawk, he'd start being more careless about more serious things.

"I'm leaving," he replied while searching around for his more portable balances, mentally wondering how he was going to start over again. "You're right, there isn't anyone stopping me from leaving this place. Maybe now I can put the guild behind me. It's all thanks to you, you know."

Picking back up his plant book, he looked up at the knight. To his surprise, he saw a small smile on her usually cranky looking face. "No problem," she said, looking slightly embarrassed, "but I didn't do anything, really."

He couldn't help but smile to himself. She had helped him far more than she thought. Finally gathering up all the things he thought he'd need, he stuffed them into a bag before slipping on a coat over his shirt. Keilith tightened a bandoleer with small vials of some his more...powerful explosives inside the belt's loops across his chest. Fastening his travelling cloak with a clasp around his neck, he turned to the knight. "Why are you still here?" he asked, curiously.

"Since you're leaving this place and I'm leaving Al De Baran…" She hesitated for a moment, looking unsure of how to word her thoughts before she ploughed on. "I was thinking that you'd be welcome to join Poing and I. We're not going anywhere in particular, just wandering around…"

Keilith looked down at the poring that bounced towards his master's feet. Poing, eh? Strange name for a pet. But then again, strange pet for a knight like her. The poring grinned up at him. He was sure the creature had probably taken something from his house with that deceivingly innocent look on his face. This might be a good start to beginning his Homunculus research again. And this time, he wouldn't have to worry about coding his notes. Perhaps this time he'd find something he didn't see before…

He picked up his bag and turned the knob on his door. Holding it open, he said, "Lead the way, partner."

--

Author's Notes: Whoa, it's a record. Over 5k words. :D The 'no bloody fucking purple shit' was my friend's idea. I was asking around for some more…colourful…swearing and well…at least she'll be happy. (rolls eyes) Bapho Balls hehehehe (insert inside joke here XP) And why is it that coming up with good bar names is incredibly hard? Argiope steak reminds me of durian. It smells really bad, but it supposedly tastes nice.

…I flatly refuse to go anywhere near durian, let alone eat it. I think the word 'immortals' is the best word to describe the MvPs in writing terms, so a heads up to Tom Valor! Even though most of you probably already know it, his series, Crimson Twilight is uber. Go read it:D And as a shameless plug, go read Woosh! It's in my profile, and it's a collaboration between delsora and I. It hasn't got nearly as many hits as this one (which makes me sad) either. It must be the summary. /sob Come on, you know you want to read about a free for all fight…:D

I'm not sure if I pulled this chapter off well enough to illustrate why these two kind of understand each other, even though Kei was being a smartass. (pokes fingers nervously together) If I get this written correctly, there should be four more chapters, including the epilogue. ;) Comments and critique welcome.