Stockwell recalled how he would often fall asleep in the back seat of his mother's car; how the slight changes in the car's acceleration pulled him into the cushion of his seat, how the soft rumble of the road underneath massaged his head and drowned out the noise in his mind, how he was calmed by knowing that his mother would undoubtedly bring him home safely. It was the kind of feeling that belonged to everybody, while still remaining uniquely personal. It made him wonder how the doldrums of delirium could even exist on the same planet where such a feeling flourished.

Stockwell yawned as he shook the sleep from his eyes. The back of the wagon underneath him rumbled softly while the goods and supplies jostled with the contour of the dirt road.

The road seemed relatively well maintained for being merely dirt, but even so, it was quite bumpy. He swore that the very first device he'd make when had the time and materials was a suspension for this wagon.

The sun was high in the sky and summer breezes rustled through fields of verdant green.

He sat up and stretched grandly, taking in the peaceful atmosphere. He was wearing a simple peasant's outfit that the boy had given him. He smirked as a word appeared in his head that he had never gotten to use over the course of his life.

"...Well isn't this bucolic..."

The boy he had been traveling with for the last day and a half took a glance at the back of his wagon after noticing the commotion.

"You slept well, Mr. Stockwell."

"Despite this wagon's best efforts, yes. It seems I did *yawn*, where are we, Niven ?"

The boy who had introduced himself earlier as Niven looked towards the upper right quadrant of his field of vision to do some mental math. "Hmmm… I think we're almost to my village, we should be at least. Sorry, I haven't taken this route in a long time. We're located directly south of E-Pespel, pretty much right on the border of the Theocracy. I left E-Rantel going west about three days ago soooo….yeah, we should almost be to Moot Village."

Stockwell nodded his head lazily in half comprehension. He had asked Niven earlier about the general geography and demographics of the Kingdom and surrounding nations, but he had been sleeping for most of their journey and didn't really get the chance to digest too much information. He wanted a map.

Or rather. He wanted everything. Books containing information about everything imaginable that the people of this world knew; politics, the natural sciences, geography, everything about magic magic, history, astronomy… everything. But he needed to secure a means of survival before he could begin his studies.

"We haven't talked very much. Why don't you tell me a little bit about this village you're so proud of?"

Niven grinned like a child showing off his favorite toy. "Moot village is really cool and it's filled with lots of really nice people. We're built on the edge of this big beautiful lake, and we're surrounded by all these big, green hills. There's also this really cool rock formation on the other side of the lake as well. The whole place is super duper pretty. I'm sure that you'll love it!"

Nivens grin died down and he drooped at the reins. "But, well…"

"Yes?"

"But to tell you the truth Mr. Stockwell, we've been having some really bad times recently." His shoulders drooped as he said it.

"How so?"

"We've always managed to get by so far but…we've been getting taxed a lot more recently. Many of us have a hard time getting food as it is, and if this keeps up, I don't think we're going to survive for very much longer. Once what little stockpile we have left runs out, our only options will be to either abandon the village or starve."

Niven looked down in a defeated manner, it was clear that he cared for his village very much. They drove like that for some time while Stockwell sat in thought.

"But you said you were on a lake right?"

"Huh, what? Oh, yes, that's right. Why do you ask?"

"Well, then it seems to me that you would have no trouble at all growing food. You would have an excellent source of water for irrigation. Is there something wrong with the soil?"

Niven simply shook his head. "No it's not the soil. It's the water in the lake. It's too toxic to irrigate with."

"Toxic?"

"Mhmm, too toxic, the villagers say that the water's been cursed, we have to get all our drinking water from a well outside the village. Fragile stuff like fruits and vegetables wither away. We can only grow tougher crops; things like oats and potatoes, so we end up having to buy fruits and vegetables in the city so that we can still get all our nutrients. Which of course is still fine since we can always just sell our surplus, but the problem is that since we've been getting hammered by taxes, we have less and less extra money to buy the types of foods we need in order to actually survive. Some of the women had tried going out to forage before as a solution, but monsters in the area make it too dangerous."

Stockwell simply sat in thought, That's quite the pickle, I wonder what it really is that's making their water toxic.

"But we still have hope though."

"Huh?"

"We still have hope though, because we're one of the only villages around that happens to have our very own blacksmith."

"Blacksmith?"

"Yes, blacksmith."

Niven puffed his chest out with pride. "We have one of the best blacksmiths in the whole kingdom. He thinks that we can save the village if we can manage to sell some of his arms. The whole reason I went to E-Rantel in the first place was to pick up materials for him."

Niven gestured to the crates in the back of the wagon that were jostling lightly next to Stockwell.

He grinned like a child once more, "And get this Mr. Stockwell, some of the materials he asked for have been magically enchanted!"

"Magically enchanted?"

"I know right! I wonder as to what kinds of amazing weapons he plans to make. Magic really is amazing, I've always been trying to figure out how it works."

You and me both, kid. I should try to find Vera when I'm able.

"But I haven't been able to do that recently." Niven interrupted his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"They tried to send me to the city a long time ago because they said I had potential… but with things being so dire, they needed my help to work the fields and tend to the animals. I was only able to study for one year."

Stockwell nodded in understanding.

"I really liked learning in the city..." Niven continued. "I learned how to read and write, and every question answered brought so many more questions… but I don't think my teacher liked me all that much."

Stockwell raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Ah, well…" Niven said dejectedly. "I got a little too question happy at times. Always trying to figure out the true causes of things… always asking 'why' after teacher just explained something. Any time I brought up a theory he shot it down too. That's fair though. He was way more knowledgeable than me and I was being rude for doubting him."

Stockwell smiled inwardly. The resemblance to someone he knew was uncanny. "So," he said. "We should still have some time before we get to your village, right? Why don't you indulge me on some of these theories of yours?"

"Really?"

"Of course." Stockwell replied.

"You promise not to make fun of me?"

"Of course not."

Niven's face formed a huge grin. Immeasurably happy that someone was finally willing to listen to his crazy theories.

"Y-Yes! Where do I even start? Well, one thing that's been crossing my mind recently is trying to figure out what stuff is made out of. Like what would happen if you kept trying to break a stick in half, when would you stop being able to break it? Surely there must be a limit right? There must be some kind of particle that can no longer be broken in half, no matter what!"

Awww, we have a little Leucippus here.

"That sounds very interesting, please go on."

Niven was smiling uncontrollably now, tempted by Stockwell's prompt.

"Yes! So what if these little bits are what everything is made out of, and everything is made out of different types of bits? Like sticks are made of stick bits! And cucumbers are made of cucumber bits!"

Impressive.

Niven continued on for a long time in utter elation about all of his other wacky theories about the world. And while all of them were wrong to various degrees, they all shined of an innocent and gifted curiosity.

Without any proper schooling, he's already cultivated his own curiosity and scientific mind. This boy is a natural-born scientist.

Stockwell stared at Niven's back. He was wearing humble clothing, his arms were darkly tanned and nicely toned, his unruly black hair bounced joyfully as he talked enthusiastically about his ideas. As Stockwell was watching the young scientist so happily recount his theories, it stirred an interesting feeling inside of him, one that he had scarcely experienced before.

I wonder what it would be like to have an apprentice…

"-And yeah! So what if the sun was actually just really big, but it was also super far away, like thousands of miles so that-!"

"Niven …" Niven was talking too loudly and didn't hear him.

"And because it would be so hot, we could still get-"

"Niven, do you feel like-"

Niven was still talking too loudly and couldn't hear him.

"And that would be how- Oh, wait, it looks like we're here."

Niven stopped his passionate orating and turned back to Stockwell who looked like he wanted to say something.

"Oh? Sorry, did you need something, Mr. Stockwell?"

"What? Oh, no, don't mind me." Stockwell looked down and away. Niven had been shining like a sun in his eyes; a rare sight in the smog covered skies of 2138. He would try to ask again later.

"Anyways, we're here. Moot Village is just over this crest."

Stockwell stood up on his knees and leaned over the front of the wagon so he could get a better view. The wagon passed over the crest and just like Niven said, Moot Village was indeed beautiful.

It was like he was looking down into a massive grassy bowl. At its center was a large, unnaturally turquoise colored lake, and on one of its banks was a small cluster of houses. Beyond the village where the steep edges of the bowl leveled were fields of what he assumed were oats.

Opposite the village on the other side of the lake was the rock formation that Niven must have mentioned earlier. Stockwell immediately knew what it was.

A natural sulfur deposit. This place has a fair amount of geothermal activity.

On the other side of the lake was a desolate moonscape of yellow land. He could see plumes of yellow ash occasionally rise from vents in the ground. It almost looked like a giant had come to urinate in the lake and missed, its urine drying into a crusty yellow rock.

This is all making sense now. The village is built inside a volcanic caldera. The volcano must be dormant but the underlying geothermal activity is still bringing sulfur and hydrogen sulfide to the surface. No wonder the lake water is toxic, it must be riddled with sulfates and I bet it's acidic as hell for plant life. That coloration of the water is almost too blue as well. There's likely a fair amount of copper sulfate in there.

Stockwell enjoyed the ride down the hill into the village, and even though he knew the water in the lake would be hell to drink, he couldn't get over its beauty.

Niven parked the wagon outside one of the buildings which must have been the blacksmithy because he asked him if he could give him a hand in unloading the crates. They were heavy, but Stockwell had healed enough to lift them.

Niven wiped his hands after placing the final crate outside. "We can just leave them here, Mr. Faber will come out and collect them later. Let's go back to my place. I'm on good terms with the chief here, so we might be able to get a place for you to stay if I put in a good word for you."

Niven got back in the driver's seat and they continued through the tiny village. The villagers were friendly like Niven said, having received a few polite hellos. Everyone was walking around with a somewhat solemn expression. It was clear that the village really was experiencing some harsh times.

They arrived at the chief's house and Niven parked the wagon.

"I'm going to go in and talk to the chief about finding you a place to stay. You can wait out here."

Stockwell nodded and Niven went inside. He sat in the wagon for a while and waited.

A few minutes passed and Niven had yet to return. He figured that perhaps negotiations weren't going over well.

Stockwell quietly got out the wagon and crept to the door. The door was old and rotten along with the walls of the building. Stockwell reasoned that this village was in dire need for weather resistant paint and concrete foundations to resist the moving earth in this geologically active area.

He eavesdropped on the conversation happening inside.

He was able to make out Niven talking to someone with an old, scratchy voice.

"...But he has nowhere else to go, we can't just leave him!"

"No buts Niven. We can't afford to take him in. We already have too many mouths to feed."

"But-"

"Niven, you already know the situation we're in. We can't afford to waste what little resources we have on someone you picked up on the side of the road-"

"I thinkI can help solve your little problem."

Niven and the scruffy-looking chief turned to see Stockwell standing in the open doorway.

"What?"

"If you had clean water, your situation would be better, right? I think I know how to clean your water."

The chief looked at him skeptically. He probably assumed that Stockwell was a snake oil salesman who was saying that he could purify the lake. "Humph! That's what all those mystics and priests say but it never works, magic is useless against the curse on the lake's water."

Stockwell put his hand on his chest like he was a little offended. "I'm a scientist. I won't be using magic."

"You're a what now?"

"I'm a scientist. From your perspective, it would appear as though I'm using a very special type of magic, but I assure you, what I do is very simple, and it's something that anyone can do."

The chief looked at him in silent confusion.

"How about this then. If I can solve your water problem, you give me a place to stay, and if I can't feel free to kick me out. Either way, you have nothing to lose."

The chief looked at the stranger a little while longer. "Humph! Fine, do what you want."

Stockwell smiled. "In that case, I'm going to need a little bit of manpower."

...

Niven led a small caravan of a dozen men wielding buckets and pickaxes along a rough trail. Stockwell followed close behind him.

"I'm surprised the chief was willing to give us this much manpower."

"What do you mean?" Niven said. "He's a nice guy who cares about his village… and he's been getting desperate. He's willing to try anything at this point. The harvest is also low this season so most of the men have free time right now."

Niven took in his surroundings and continued down the trail, "I think the white rock is down this way. So, what really is your plan then? You said you need it for a special type of magic?"

"Yes, but first I think it needs to be said that you really are a smart kid, Niven."

"What do you mean?"

"Your theory about how there is a smallest common denominator, how there is a smallest possible particle that everything is made from, you were mostly correct."

"What!?" Niven stopped his stride for a second out of shock but quickly continued since he was on a mission. He was simply just so surprised that someone had actually agreed with one of his theories.

"Yes, the particles you're talking about have a name, they're called atoms, and they really do makeup everything. There are 92 different types of them that occur naturally, and everything you see is made up of them."

"Wait what!? Really!?"

"Yes, it's true. In fact, there is a whole field of study that concerns how atoms interact with each other to form larger things known as compounds and how even those react with each other to make everything as we know it. It's a type of science called chemistry."

Niven's eyes lit up. He looked at the world around him. "I knew it! I knew you weren't just some random person! Science!? Chemistry!? Please, Mr. Stockwell! Teach me!"

Niven stopped his stride and turned and collapsed to the ground in a bow. "Please! Mr. Stockwell! I want to know!"

The dozen or so men behind them were catching up with them. "Woah, relax. I planned to teach you regardless. In fact, this whole exercise in cleaning the water involves chemistry. So why don't you get up and continue leading us."

Niven got up and marched on shakily excited legs "Yes sir!"

…unbelievably enthusiastic about learning science. Stockwell smiled as he watched his back. Then again, many young scientists are like that. He felt a warm feeling come over him.

Stockwell confirmed that the men behind them were still following them and continued. "So like I was saying, we're going to be cleaning the water using chemistry. From the way you described it, I have no doubt that what you're leading us towards is limestone, which is mostly made of calcium carbonate.

Calcium carbonate is a compound made from the atoms I was talking about earlier. Calcium is a type of atom, and carbonate is a combination of a carbon atom and three oxygen atoms. What we're going to do is smelt it down into a substance known as calcium oxide, also known more simply as quicklime."

He could only see the back of Niven's head, but he could tell he was listening incredibly closely.

"Is that why you're having some of the men construct that kiln back at the village?"

"Yes exactly. You see , the stuff that is causing your water to be toxic is not some magical curse, but the ion known as sulfate. What it normally does is bond to other kinds of atoms in your water to form what's known as a salt. These salts are dissolved in your water and absorbed into the bodies of plants and humans and disrupt biological functions. It's normally harmless in small amounts, but in the extreme concentrations that likely exist in your lake, it can be quite toxic. And that doesn't even begin to address the sulfuric acid that's likely present too."

Niven listened along intently. He stopped when he saw the scenery ahead of him. "We're here."

Ahead of them was a barren patch of land with exposed whitish stone coming out of the ground. "Alright then let's gather as much limestone as we can. And I'll explain what we're going to do on the way back."

"Yes sir!"

.

"Nice job on the lime kiln, Mr. Faber, I didn't expect you and your men to build it this quickly."

Stockwell and the blacksmith named Faber stood off to the side as they watched Niven and the other men throw limestone and coal into a brick kiln. Large plumes of smoke and fire rose from within.

Faber was about the same age as Stockwell, but his hair was still black, unlike Stockwell's gray-umber. And his face was just as muscular as the rest of his body.

"Once you described it, it was easy. All it is is just a big ol' bloomery. So are you really going to do it then?"

"Do what?"

"Clean the water. I've seen countless priests from the city come and try to clean it but they always fail. I've never seen something like this before so I'm wondering how sure you are it's going to work."

"Well, I've never done this before personally, but the chemistry is simple enough. I don't see why this wouldn't work."

"Is that so…" Faber didn't fully understand the word "chemistry", he thought that maybe it was some kind of alchemy, but he didn't pry further.

"Then let's get started."

Stockwell walked to the lime kiln and the men got out of his way. They watched as he knelt down and opened the draw hole. He took a shovel from one of the men and shoveled out the whitish powder from the bottom and into a big wooden bucket.

He picked up the bucket and walked to the irrigation reservoir that was dug out from the lake. The irrigation channels were blocked off. They had probably dug them in the first place in the hopes that someone would finally be able to clean their water.

"Niven, could you grab another bucket for me?"

Niven who had been standing behind him and watching intently perked up. "Yes sir!"

He grabbed another bucket that was sitting next to the kiln. He handed it to Stockwell.

"Thank you, now watch closely everyone. Niven go ahead and take a drink from the reservoir, it's okay you can spit it out."

"Alright..."

Everyone watched as Niven scooped a handful of water out of the reservoir and brought it to his lips, and unsurprisingly, he immediately spit it out with a disgusted face.

"*pleh* Yup, that is definitely toxic."

Stockwell nodded and everyone watched closely as he filled the empty bucket with water from the reservoir. He took a handful of the quicklime in the other bucket and dumped it in.

"Now all we have to do is mix it in and wait a while." Stockwell began to stir it in with his bare hand. He could clearly feel that the water was mildly acidic and he was glad he hadn't tried to drink it earlier. Mixing chemicals with one's bare hand was clearly not standard lab safety practice, but it wouldn't kill him this time.

"To put this in a way you understand gentlemen, the quicklime is replacing all the bad stuff in the water and it's all sinking to the bottom."

He tipped the bucket and showed it around to everyone so that they could see the white powder falling to the bottom. They weren't very impressed.

"Isn't that just the stuff you just threw in there though?"

"It might look that way, but watch this."

He handed the bucket to Niven. They won't trust me if I'm the one who drinks it. They might just think I'm faking it.

"Well then boy, want to try? Be careful though, it'll probably be bitter as hell."

"Of course!"

Niven brought the bucket to his lips.

The villagers shuffled, "Wait don't-"

He took one large swig and just as Stockwell said, it was incredibly bitter. Niven's face contorted slightly, however…

He held it in and swallowed.

The villagers began to murmur and their eyes were growing wide, "...He didn't spit it out... It really is clean...what was that powder…"

Niven exhaled in the manner one does after having drunk a refreshing beverage. He wiped the water from his mouth.

He smiled a huge childish grin. "That wasn't that bad."

The villagers were stunned as they looked at the boy's smiling face. When suddenly-

"WOOOOOOOOO! YEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHH!"

The villagers exploded into cheers as they all crowded around Niven to take swigs from the bucket.

"Hey! It really isn't that bad!"

"Wow! It really is clean!"

"Hahaha! It's a bit bitter, but I can handle it!"

Stockwell stepped in, "While I don't suggest drinking it like that right now because there is quite a bit of lime and we should really measure out and test the exact amount of ions and acid in the water… Though it should be perfectly safe to irrigate with if we set up a basic filter…."

The villagers weren't paying him much attention and continued to crowd around the bucket in merriment. A strange feeling came over Stockwell as he watched the villagers and he smiled.

Well, I guess I really did do something good with my life for once.

Niven ran up to him and started pulling on his arm, "So how did you do it? How did that work!?" He was grinning madly while he awaited his chemistry lesson.

Stockwell smiled, "As I said, the reason the lake water is toxic is because of the high amount of sulfate and the dilute sulfuric acid. When we added the calcium oxide into the water, we ended up creating calcium hydroxide. The calcium hydroxide then went on to react with the sulfates in the water to create calcium sulfate, which is considerably less soluble and thus fell out of solution and piled onto the bottom. This calcium hydroxide will also raise the pH and neutralize the acid."

Niven stared up into his eyes with a look of wonder.

"I don't get it!"

He had said it with such childlike passion.

"Hahaha!" Stockwell laughed heartily and throttled the boy.

"That's quite alright ! You'll learn in time!"

They laughed together all through the night. The villagers partied and feasted, and there was song and drink. They splurged on the last of their stockpiles, because now they knew that they would have clean water to grow the things they needed.

At some point during the night, the chief and villagers had gathered to formally thank Stockwell. They got on their hands and knees and pleaded for Stockwell to stay, and he gladly accepted. He would be needing a base of operations to begin his research.

Now they simply needed money. A disgusting amount of it.