CH 17 – I, Marcellus
"Septimus, is here?" Savin looked utterly bemused, Marcellus was once again expecting her to yell at him.
"Yes, he is in fact right over there."
"Oh really?" Savin's sarcastic tone passed right over the Alchemists' head.
"Uh, Savin? Welcome back?" Septimus shyly smiled, this Witch was obviously not someone you wanted to mess with at any given time. He didn't mind the witch though the thought, she had seems nice enough all those days ago when they had met.
"Hello Septimus, how are you?" she smiled and returned her attention back to Marcellus. Their young companion mumbled something and went to sit at a nearby desk to study.
"How did he get back here before I did?" Her tone softened, turning from anger to disappointment.
"We'll I assume, my future self" Marcellus looked somewhat disgusted by this, "sent Septimus back to help me and then proceeded to send you back afterwards. Though there is quite the time difference isn't there?" He pondered this for a moment, pacing back and forth on the white marble floors.
"Time difference.. Pray, what do you mean? It has only been 14 days, has it not?"
Marcellus' eyebrows furrowed together, "no, it has not."
"How long then?" Savin realised that this must have been created in the time loop from the door, she turned around to see the golden doors shining in the light, alchemic symbols aligned along the edges.
"One hundred and sixty nine days, to be exact."
"Oh.." Savin went to sit at the desk next to Septimus, who seemed oddly quiet and concentrated. She ignored the fact that she may have missed her birthday, (along with a few other things) and started twirling her hair as she always did when she was blue.
"At least I'm back then."
"Yes, indeed" Marcellus smiled and joined them at the table.
"Septimus, I did not know that you were from this time as well."
"I'm not" he whispered, still immersed in his book.
"What do you mean?" Savin sat back in her chair, far used to all the excruciatingly long and detailed explanations.
"I was sent back to help Marcellus with the tincture." She turned to Marcellus who leaned forward and (trying to hold back his excitement) explained the situation.
"Septimus was sent back to help you with the new tincture then? Of Eternal Youth?"
Marcellus nodded.
"Why now though?"
"A conjunction of the seven planets is occurring and doesn't do so again for many hundreds of years to come. And obviously, by then I won't be fit to make it.. As you saw."
Savin shivered at the image of the old man, wandering aimlessly throughout the tunnels, "yes.."
"Apprentice, I was wondering if you would check on the tincture for me? Hopefully it will be ready soon enough."
Septimus stood up and went over to a large cabinet carved into the Chamber walls, opened a glass door and began to stir the stewing tincture.
"Not yet" he called back.
"Septimus is here of his own will, yes?" Savin looked back over to the concentrated boy, he did seem to have a great interest in Phyisik.
"Well, Septimus has certainly warmed up to being down here. Have you not apprentice?"
Marcellus yelled back to his new apprentice, who nodded "I guess so."
Septimus continued to stir the brew, taking extra precautions with the delicate tincture.
Savin shook her head, she didn't want to get into this right now.
A loud bell sounded throughout the halls and Marcellus jumped up, "its time then." He quickly grabbed a book from the table beside him, scribbled a few things down and shut it with some enthusiasm. Savin saw Septimus form the far side of the room fiddle with something in his pockets, but soon forgot as Marcellus yelled. "Bookbinder?"
"Bookbinder?" Savin strangely repeated the words as a puffing man with a red face ran out from a tunnel, standing behind Marcellus.
"I am here your excellency" he bellowed.
Savin raised an eyebrow, there were working others in the Great Chamber now?
'Did he just call Marcellus Your Excellency?' Savin giggled as did several over scribes she now noticed sat at far desks in the Chamber, waiting for orders.
"Spare the twitterings, and pray bring the press to the table." Septimus saw the man struggling to lift the press into the table and went over to help him.
Throughout the morning, Septimus was hurrying around helping the now busy scribes bind Marcellus' book.
Savin hurried over to Septimus' side and tried to help him, but only found herself getting in the way.
She saw him slip an envelope into a pile of pages and hand them to the next scribe, but ignored the action.
Septimus had mistakenly thought no one had seen his little exchange and sat down, his trembling hands folding into his black and red apprentice robes.
Marcellus walked over to the now finished, beautifully bound book and pressed his signet ring into the bright red wax.
The book was finally sealed and a number of relieved sighs filled the room.
Septimus only hoped Marcia would find his letter in the I, Marcellus four hundred years later.