16th century

"Hold still darling."

Nicholas didn't know why Perenelle needed to say this, he had held still for three millennia, mere existence now felt like holding still as everyone sped past him. Well mostly everyone. He looked at the woman beside him disapprovingly. Perenelle had taken immortality in her stride, wearing the finest that could be bought or stolen. Her hair was finely curled, something that had taken seven hours out of her day to achieve, but it mattered no longer, time was irrelevant. Her thin face was smothered by makeup, gloating symbol of what she could afford instead for beauty, a good thing too given how awful the thick coating looked.

"I said hold still."

He looked back at the painter, sketching a brief outline of him. But Nicholas supposed the immortal could not be picky. She had persuaded him into having their picture painted in Italy where they had been staying for the last two years. Nicholas had taken her all around Europe and further. That had been a mistake, but Perenelle had taken it all in her stride, murdering her way across the new world.

"What does it matter?" she had said, "they're going to die anyway."

Nicholas couldn't be bother to act horrified at her brash actions.

"What exactly are we meant to do with a painting?"

"Take it home, silly." She turned to him, "I think it's time we returned to England."

Nicholas didn't care where they went next, if she wanted it to be England then so be it. So instead he said, "hold still darling."

She laughed at him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. Nicholas would have scoffed at the idea Perenelle controlled his life, he merely no longer felt any need to do anything. She cared enough to travel, to move in her day and Nicholas merely followed. The artist stayed long into the night until he apologised profusely for needing sleep. Perenelle thanked the man, though ninety years on this earth had done nothing for her language skills, as she thanked the Italian man in French.

"Merci, merci." She shut the door as she waved the man down of their stately home. The house was three storeys of white stone, mockingly crafted into faux pillars. Each of its rooms was laden in almost identical lush red carpets and golden laced curtains that flutter whenever the balconies were open. It made the place hard to navigate but this was hardly an issue for Nicholas who stuck to his corner of the mansion. yet Perenelle was making it harder for him to stay shut off from the world, as she usually did when she started to tire of a place.

"Tomorrow I'll need you to join me in the guest drawing room-"

"And which one is that?" Perenelle's eyes crinkled warmly as she smiled, amused at his indifference.

"Second floor, third door on the left."

He bowed slightly in thanks, hands clasped behind his back. She chuckled at him now, still seeming to find unending amusement in his coldness. Well she was still young. He followed her up the stairs, their shoes clicking loudly on the hard marble. Nicholas felt he should at some point ask Perenelle what exactly paid for this house, but frankly the answer wouldn't surprise him so saw no need to find it out.

"And who exactly are we meeting tomorrow?"

"Erm, a young alchemist...about the stone."

Nicholas almost skid on the last step to the top floor as he came to a sudden halt. The squeaking sound of his foot sliding on the floor echoed through the corridors and down the stairs as Nicholas replayed the last word Perenelle had said over in his head wondering if there was anyway of mishearing it. He put his hand on his pocket before joining his wife on the top stair. Perenelle looked like a guilty child; biting her lip and half smiling. He had to give the woman credit if anything could provoke an emotion out of him it would be her.

"My...why?"

"Well," she leaned forward grabbing his hand and started moving them towards the bedroom as Nicholas remained stiff, "what do you know about the stone?"

He shook his hair back in disgrace, "it stops the aging and degrading of bone marrow and the cycle of white blood cell development stopping us from-"

"Yes that's all fine and dandy but what else can it do?"

"W-what more do you want it to do?"

"Well does it just work the same on animals? Plants? How about metals? You say it stops the degrading of marrows and blood but how does that stop us from aging?"

He had once, a long time ago, pondered over it, but he was a chemist not a biologist. They had made their way into their bedroom and Perenelle had let go of Nicholas' hand to close the door, the absence of her warmth of the thing makes Nicholas snap out of his shock and start to get ready to sleep. Like the rest of the rooms, this one had lush carpets though was absent of a set of curtains given there were no windows. The four poster bed with gold painted poles and red wood stood proudly in the centre of the room. Perenelle had been very persistent when buying a bed, pleading with Nicholas to let her have it, despite Nicholas putting up no fight.

"I was talking about this with a couple of my friends about it and they said-"

"People know about the stone?" he asked, as he set the item in question down on the headboard of the bed, giving it small tap before turning to face Perenelle.

"Of course," she said, tittering as she ungracefully stepped out of her dress, piling the clothes on the floor before sliding into the covers, "it is a very good icebreaker."

Nicholas didn't know what was worse, the fact that there were those who knew of the stone, or that no one had tried to steal the best creation bestowed upon the earth.

"And she said her husband knew a very...open minded alchemist. I merely set an appointment for us to meet him tomorrow."

Nicholas looked at her before sniffing indignantly and got into bed. It would have been nice to have been told about this person coming to visit, about his stone no less... but it would be nice for once, for his work to be appreciated.

He was alone when he awoke, he usually had Perenelle staying around if she wanted something. He sighed, getting out of the bed and began to get dressed. Once he had, he pressed the stone into his pocket, squeezing it once, as if to make sure it was truly there. It was still dark in their room given the lack of windows, so when he dressed himself and stepped out of their rooms he was sudden blinded by the light. He squinted for through shining beams of light and strode forward. He searched throughout the huge house for Perenelle until he found her cantering around the garden, it too was filled with red; red wild flowers and roses smothered any blades of grass, Perenelle making her chestnut stallion stamp the prickled flowers into make shift pathway. Nicholas understood the need to release her boredom on something, but did it have to be a horse? She cried each time one died and they died a lot. He started walking on the pressed flowers towards her, the warm breeze brushing the soft flower heads against his skin. Seeing him, Perenelle slowed to a trot and smiled back at him.

"Good to see you're awake," she said once she was beside him.

Nicholas ignored her pleasantries, "When is the alchemist coming?"

Perenelle smiled slightly, before pushing her horse past Nicholas making him step into the prickling flowers.

"He'll be arriving at four, I trust you can find your way to the guest drawing room."

He nodded and bowed slightly, but Perenelle had already started riding away.

The alchemist was young. Too young to have any area of expertise in what Nicholas had created. He was short and thin with a weak chin and slouching narrow shoulders. He had his hair tucked under the back of his tunic which was splattered with a multicolour of different substances, it was even burned into where more harmful substance had hit him. While it may show his determination in potions, Nicholas could only think at how careless someone had to be to spill so much. The young child looked up meekly at Nicholas, biting his lip. All in all, Nicholas found himself practically insulted by the boy's presence.

The boy bowed, "You must be Lord Flamel," the boy said in English slowly and with a thick Italian accent. Perenelle behind him closed the door of the drawing room where Nicholas was sat. Nicholas nodded, despite never having told anyone in seventy years he was a Lord, but frankly he hadn't spoken to anyone except for Perenelle for twenty years.

"My name is Ottone Ungaretti." He bowed and stood by the seat opposite Nicholas where Perenelle had gestured at, "I am here to help you examine this...pebble."

"Stone."

Perenelle was barely finding her smirk at how angry Nicholas sounded.

"And of course, I knew that is why you are here, or else I'd wonder why my wife had even let you into this house," Nicholas snapped, but clearly the words had been spoken too fast for the boy to understand as he looked confused for a second, before giving up translating the words in his head and reached down to pick up the large bulging bag he had come in with. Out of it he first pulled a small cauldron. Nicholas pressed the stone into his leg, he wasn't about to allow any chance for his creation to be destroyed.

"Now, where is it?" the boy said, clapping his hand, Nicholas pushed it further into his pocket.

"Darling give him the stone, he was destroying it...correct?"

"No of course not, I will leave no scratch on it."

Nicholas was about to say something, that, if the young boy understood would lead to a duel, or maybe the child would just go home crying.

But before he could, the boy said, "Please, from what I've heard, well...I would be honoured just to see it."

Nicholas sighed and lifted the stone from his pocket and laid it on the table where the red stone shimmered in the evening light. The boy reached across to take it but Nicholas slammed his hand down, making the boy flinch as if burnt.

"Not a scratch you understand." He lifted his hand away and boy slowly picked it up, cradling it in his hands as Nicholas did. He concluded it was fine to be appreciated. As the boy carefully handled the stone as he placed it in the water of the cauldron. Sure enough as it always had the stone leaked the silver pus that floated to the top to shimmer with water. The boy gathered it into a vial before handing the wet and still slightly oozing stone back to Nicholas. He wrapped a handkerchief around it and squeezed it firmly. The boy then set about working, dropping the silver liquid into each vial he had set out in front of him and observed them in silent. Perenelle looked at Nicholas shifting in her seat, but Nicholas refused to make eye contact, staring at the flasks. He should know what the colour changes were. But he didn't. For all the years of alchemy and he had forgotten basic reactions of his own creation. Although it had been years, millennia's even, since he had last even worked anywhere near a potion, since then he found no need to leave his bed or even get into bed. He supposed he had been getting better, returning to England was a good step, finally having a purpose again, but Perenelle, while giving him a purpose, granted one that could be fun meant most of his days were spent neglecting his intellect. He felt momentarily worried before remembering, he was immortal. He didn't have to do this now, perhaps in another century. He leaned back, absentmindedly staring at the celling, it was smoothly plastered over but he knew if he waited long enough it would rot away.

"This…" Nicholas looked back at the boy, "you made this?" The boy looked appalled, astounded at the idea.

Nicholas felt insulted, "Of course, around three millennia ago."

"If…you're telling the truth aren't you?"

This boy's insult held no bounds, Nicholas nodded. The boy rose gesturing wildly at the stone.

"This is genius, this er...what exactly is your...profession?" A God amongst men to watch over their petty lives.

"He's a philosopher," Perenelle answered for him as if sensing the idea floating around in his wisdom filled head.

"This philosopher stone," the young man announced proudly. He drew himself on the chair finding himself once again surprised at the woman provoking emotions in him, if it was only dishonour. This was the greatest discovery of mankind, and the creator, not the creator's wife should have a little more say in its name to be remember throughout the ages.

"What exactly does it do?" Perenelle asked, laying her hand on the boy's knee. He stuttered for a moment giving Nicholas a fleeting look, but he was stroking the stone.

"Well…that's a difficult question." The boy swirled the nearest vial of gold liquid, "this was metal…it's not gold…you've done what alchemist have been trying to achieve for years."

"What does that mean though?" Perenelle asked quickly, leaning forward. Of course she would jump at the idea of not needing to steal money.

"Well, this…substance, seems to rid impurities, it appears to be volatile enough to even stabilise itself within its product."

"So…"

"It will keep the pure state, or in your case, your young body, indefinitely…forever."

"It could do this…with everything?"

"Possibly, I'd have to do more tests," he tried to take the stone from Nicholas, who moved it swiftly away. "Nicholas," Perenelle warned, as if he was the child.

"Please, I just need to take another sample."

Nicholas slowly moved the stone across the table.

"This is so awesome!" Perenelle cried when the boy finally left, grabbing Nicholas' shoulders jumping up and down.

"Well we already know the most important feature of the stone."

"The Philosopher stone," she implored. He ignored her and drew his wand to light the candles in the dark and drafty house.

"Think about all the good we could do."

Her excited statement almost made him stumble. "Didn't take you for someone who wanted to do good."

"Of course I do. I might want money as well, but…think about it, we could wipe out illness, food would never rot, water could be clean for everyone."

He refused to say anything as he travelled up to his study, needing to be away from the world after having to socialise.

"And how exactly do we achieve that?"

"Well, by making more."

He clenched the wand in his hand.

"I don't…remember how to."

"So? I'm sure he can make more, or someone else."

No else could make his stone. It was his stone. How could she even entertain the thought?

"But this is my stone."

"So? The world would be ours."

"No else can make my stone."

Perenelle scoffed and Nicholas turned quickly, his hair whipping his face, "you're not the only person-"

"don't." He held his wand at her chest, she merely smirked. Of course, how could he threaten another immortal. He swiftly turned and strode up the upstairs to his study. It was cluttered with sheets of teared and crumbling paper from years gone by that was stacked high so the red carpet underneath could not be seen through the yellowing paper. He made his way to his desk knocking over one of the two remaining stacks as he did so. It too was littered with papers, sodden with ink and scrawls. None of them would make sense to anyone else, slanted and rushed, written on overlapping pieces of papers making a jigsaw of his thoughts. No one with his intelligence, but even he sometimes couldn't understand what he had written immediately. But he didn't need to yet. He picked up his quill and immediately started dotting the closest piece of space with scribbled shapes and lines. Harsher and sporadic than his usual writing. He continued moving the quill wondering why the lines looked so harsh as his hand continued to move until he realised; he was angry. It caught him by surprise having not felt angry in so long, it felt refreshing and exhausting. He could feel his hands shaking with rage, his heart pounding against his chest as he fidgeted with restlessness. Perenelle shouldn't have questioned him. He was the only one who could create the stone, and even if such a miracle occurred that someone else could mimic his creation they shouldn't, it was his stone. No one else should be near it, or even have its effects. He should have let Perenelle die, just like everyone else around him did. He wouldn't be in this situation. While it was nice to know what his creation did, though none of which he saw a point to, if Perenelle and the boy wanted to do anything with his stone. No. It was his. Only he could make it and only he could keep it to himself.

When Perenelle next came to his office door she told him a week had passed. To Nicholas it had felt like nothing as he had stayed in his office, the stone in his left hand as he wrote with his right.

"Ran out of paper again?"

He paused in his scrawls on the wall to give her a look before returning to the wall.

"Ottone has returned, he wishes to talk to you."

"Who?"

"Ottone Ungaretti. The alchemist?"

"Oh that child."

"That's one way of looking at it." She said laughing, "Nicolas, come out of there and see him."

Nicholas stepped away from the wall and looked at the stone, feeling a conundrum rising. If the boy wanted the stone to use as Perenelle suggested, he should probably leave the stone but he hadn't left the stone after the incident with Perenelle. He put it firmly in his back pocket before heading up the stairs with Perenelle. Perenelle led him to one of their many identical rooms on the top, he imagined that she had only brought the boy up here to show how many rooms they had.

"Lord Flamel," the boy bowed, Nicholas standing stiff in the doorway. "I have exciting news," he added breathlessly when Nicholas said nothing. Slowly he walked towards the balcony to join the boy.

"It's a beautiful view you have," the boy commented. A view that was only fleetingly going to be beautiful before being ravened by time.

"What exactly have you got to tell me?" he said coldly, wishing to return to his room, rather than being surrounded by the soon to be dead.

"Ah yes, well I would like to say once more what a marvellous creation you have…created. Truly marvellous. I have been studying the effect on a wider range of substances and the effect are more or less conclusive of its purifying as well and its longevity. I'll be able to do more onto living test subjects, but of course," the boy chuckled, "you stand as living proof. So now…if at all possible, I would like to talk about the application."

So he did want to use it like Perenelle did.

"I believe this could revolutionise medicine. Of course it is understandable if you wish not to advocate its immortality side, that is understandable. However, if we made another of this, we could implement it as a cleaner of wound, maybe even to fuse broken limbs perhaps."

"But that…would require the stone being constantly harvested."

"Well if you do not wish that to happen, I'm sure another could be created."

"I can't remember what to do to recreate it."

"Well, looking at the compound it would be very simple to recreate."

"Simple?"

"Well of course a-at the time of course it h-have been-"

"Simple!"

The boy didn't have time to stutter out another excuse before Nicholas pushed him. The boy stumbled backwards, his legs hit the wall of the balcony. He gave Nicholas one look of fear before toppling over the balcony. Nicholas studied the sky for a second waiting for the terrified screams to stop and the crack of bones filled the air. He moved towards the balcony edge and looked down. Yes, he was definitely dead; lucky.

"What happened?"

He couldn't open his mouth before Perenelle was at his side and screaming. He turned to look at her, leaning on the balcony. Her hands covered her face did nothing to muffle her cries, Nicholas just waited for her to stop. She had moved to one of the chairs in the room to sob after fifteen minutes and stopped crying after two hours. He moved to the chair opposite her. She looked up at him, eyes bulging and started crying again.

"He…he…you murdered him."

"You murdered your husband."

"But…" she fell back into shaking sobs. Nicholas observed, feeling much more peacefully and comforted now his angry had dissipated. "Why?" She screamed as she choked her sobs.

"Why?" he got up, leaning over Perenelle, who leaned backwards, "Because no one is taking that stone away from. The greatest creation of time is mine, and if I can't create it, no one can."

"He had his life…all of it to look forward to."

"No he had death to look forward to. All of them do!"

Perenelle pushed past him.

"And where are you going?"

"Away from you."

He laughed, "how can you do that? In the end, we will be all that's left."

She refused to turn back to face him.

"Do you truly think we'll live forever?" she finally whispered through her tears.

"Of course."

She said nothing, only nodding sharply. She did this several times before she moved, swiftly moving to the door and slamming it behind her. Once he heard her close the front door he wandered back to his office, picking the stone out of his pocket. She finally got the catch.