• Closed • AL is the CHEMical of What Again?

[Kotton]

73 Ymiden, 724

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There were only so many things Kotton knew and they each had their own reason, purpose and end goal. He wanted to improve his combat skills and so he had trained with Stanz, and against a random tree out in the Sweetwine Woods. He wanted to enhance his understanding of the Scalveen language so he had attended local parties, put himself out into the community in the hopes of picking up on a few conversations and terms. He wanted to increase his ability to cook so he ventured to nearby vendors, purchased local goods and attempted to create meals as basic as his basic recipe book suggested. He had even focused his energy on performing regular meditative activities since he desired to feel more in control with his emotions and how he reacted to various maddening situations. He was putting himself out there so he could build himself up to be someone better than he was. He acknowledged that starting somewhere was just another part of the journey, but sometimes he failed to understand that the journey took time. He fell easily to the appetite of being the best, not without fundamental patience, and this hurt him in the long run. Every night after a trial of frustration for having not ‘gotten’ or ‘understood’ or ‘realised’ his errors, he had spent wallowing, dwelling, contemplating negatively about how atrocious he was when that was far from the case. Thankfully, he did not indulge his irritation with the likes of alcohol. In fact, he had taken a few walks outside, rounding the corners of Scalvoris and even tapping at the bits that became of the Sweetwine Woods or Almund. Wherever he went, he returned with a more solitary peace of mind.

Today was no different. He had been trying to understand the ways of alchemy. He had been interested in the idea of using resources to craft things that contained magical abilities, but was at a loss as to how. He was no stranger to magic- he knew how to adjust someone else’s perspective given his personal intention. That was his ability to use Glamour. Of the less magical skills, he had a blessing from Pre and Pier that authorised him the potential to concentrate on fictional words and make sense of their truth. His blessing also gave him permission to see the difference between what was honest and what was fallible.

His heart ached for more. He was certainly not ungrateful for his immortal mark, nor his trusted connection with those who viewed him as valuable and useful. He also did not dare view the magical discipline he had learnt as anything other than a blessing; he had gone through thick and thin, immortal hell if there was one, all in order to be able to do what he could do. He was forever grateful and always would be. But immortals were different from mortals. There were cognitions, thoughts, feelings and emotions that needed to be ascertained with the furthest attempt of understanding that was possible.

Kotton was bored. It was a mortal feeling and it was a feeling of reason. His boredom had built up after trial and trial of rudimentary, routine and recurring actions that left him thinking about what was more.

Since his mind was moving at a kilometre a minute, it was only natural that his legs moved with the same speed. Destination was unimportant, only the journey and direction were crucial given the necessity of a soul in need of desperate repair.

His legs walked, strode, galloped, traipsed. They glided as he picked up pace until he was on par with the sprint of a horse knowing there would be an apple at the end of its race. He pounded his heels into the soil, practically throwing person and person out of his way. His mind was set on something special and that something special was something that would stimulate his brain in the way that day to day routine could never.

Learning.

Education.

His drive towards knowledge was unparalleled. He would race against everyone, pristine and official marathon runners, you name it, all if it meant he would quiet his brain with facts and numbers and other theories.

Eventually, his muddied shoes met the stairs that led up the Scalvoris University. He took them two at a time, trying his best to keep his breath regular, though his heart was beating out of its chest and in desperate need of rest. Once he had climbed the stairs, he thrust his hands against the front doors and invaded the sanctity of a place that claimed to contain all information. The instant he was welcomed by the tall, wooden walls of the university and the soft, plush carpets of the university, and the carefully constructed doors of the university, and the student who passed left and right in front of him in the university- his pulse slowed and his heart took a break. His legs continued to ache for a few additional minutes, the muscles spasming after their sudden use, but it wasn’t long until Kotton felt tranquil, placid, amidst a place he surprisingly felt familiar with.

It took him a time before he gazed up at the directions inscribed with fire that declared which hallway meant which course. He spent several moments observing the signs, reading and re-reading them until he felt certain about which direction he would go. He went left, carelessly waltzing down a hallway he hoped would bring him peace to his academic and additionally alchemically conditioned state of mind.

[Doran]

Doran had returned to Scalvoris after a rather lengthy stay in the lands behind the barriers at the edge of the world and two shorter trips to Cahyrst and Viden. In Cahyrst, he’d searched the Grand Imperial Library, one of the biggest libraries in Idalos, for information on the Originals in general and Fei in particular, for anything that might help him resurrect her, and in Viden, he’d taught a couple of classes in alchemy and chemistry and met with a few of his professors. He was still the Dean of the Institute of Sciences at the university there.

A part of his soul belonged to that strange island that played such a pivotal role in the history of Idalos now though. Besides, he hoped to find a few crucial clues there. The Shay, the people that had once inhabited the sunken city of Pyk, the first democracy on Idalos, were not really gone. They had not been killed during the Shattering. They had become the Caoduri. The Cadouri were Saoire’s children, but the Shay had worshipped Fei.

That had to mean something.

As he walked through the corridors of the university at a relatively brisk pace – he needed to prepare a classroom for an experiment, and on top of that, his office hour would take place that trial – he wondered if there was a tiny part of them that was still Shay, what uncovering it would reveal about the Shattering and the races of Idalos and how he might be able to uncover it. Would blood magic or mere science be the way to go?

He nodded at a couple of students and colleagues that he passed by. Before long, he had reached the corridor that the alchemy classrooms were located in. There was a young man walking his way, he observed. He had dark brown hair and brown eyes, and there was a slight discoloration to his skin, barely noticeable to most, that hinted at Eidisi heritage, a fact that piqued his curiosity. He was in his twenties and thus just the right age to be a student, but he didn’t think that he had ever seen him in one of his alchemy classes which made him wonder why he was heading straight towards the alchemy classrooms.

Perhaps, he was one of Professor Dashiell’s students that wanted to branch out, or perhaps he had previously studied under the Augustins and was looking for some guidance now that they were both gone?

Both Faith and Padraig Augustin had practiced alchemy, although they had been most famous for other things.

Kotton for his part might recognize the man that approached him. These trials, the Mortalborn who had been anonymous for centuries, was a world-famous alchemist and a member of the Council, the Devout, who was responsible for religious matters. A Bearer of Frosvinndur’s Effigy and Blessed of several Immortals, he was tall and garbed in an elegant suit of black and silver, and he radiated calm and confidence, in the way few did.

“Are you looking for me?” Doran inquired politely as he regarded Kotton. “My office hour hasn’t started yet, but I have time to talk now regardless. I have to admit, I’m looking forward to a discussion on alchemy after my trip behind the Barriers, if that’s why you were walking down the corridor. Come in”, he continued and gestured for Kotton to enter the classroom before he abruptly looked back at him, considering him. “Unless you’d rather join me at my office?” he asked and raised an eyebrow slightly.

[Kotton]

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Kotton wiped the perspiration that had accumulated from his high brow and turned. There, standing before him was an elegant looking man. He had all the radiance of someone in power, all the airs of someone who knew what they were doing and why they were doing it. He practically screamed intelligence, and that was just the sort of person Kotton had been set out to seek, clad in a suit and tie no less.

This was obviously not the Doran mentioned on the flier he had taken that declared the need for students to create original scientific discoveries, but that didn’t mean this wasn’t the Doran that held academic prowess in the likes of certain scientific subjects. He had, in fact, heard of him from the letters his grandfather had sent him, tales told in thick, black ink about deans of sciences and the like, all tallied up in a bundle acquiescent in parts of Idalos, Video most notoriously.

The sight of him, though, being in the very presence of such a man made spider legs crawl up and down his legs. It was a shiver he couldn’t best, much less ignore. Kotton wanted to be someone like him. He wanted to hold that level of strong suit, to become known by many as intellectual and… he was getting ahead of himself. Why had he even set foot outside his house if not to discover rather than dream? He could do the latter at home under the comfort of his blankets in a bed wrought by the impressions already made from his body. No, he wanted to make impressions, and not by a meager mattress, most certainly not by a mealy duvet. He wanted to make an impression on those who mattered. And in this case? A well-renowned instructor.

Still, Kotton wanted to play cool. He was tired of being caught off guard and misled by his own misgivings. He was done with making small steps inside his comfort zone, courteous of his social anxiety and lack of self-confidence. He had trudged the span from his house to the academy after all, hadn’t he?

He threw his shoulders back and cleared his throat. There was so much phlegm, how he wouldn’t be regarded as sickly was beyond him. “Wherever you wish to have me,” he said politely as he followed Doran into the classroom. Whether his office hours would have been better, he wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t up for that debate as it was in the future. Now was the present and the present held all his thoughts and questions, all his wishes and worries.

Kotton took an additional moment or two to study his appearance, noting his immense height and how it seemed to tower over the young man. His facial features were so raw, so jarring in the sense of fine lines and angles and the way he held himself was just as fine, rigid, self-assured and confident in a way that seemed to beg any doubters to ‘please, ask me to deign to your level’. He hadn’t an idea as to his personality, but his physical features were enough to suggest the absolute requirement of respect.

Kotton absentmindedly straightened his shirt so that it seemed less wrinkled than it probably was. “I’m a student here at the university. I mainly study science though I have had a course or two in writing-” was his educational history a rambling worth mentioning? “However, I’ve been wanting to learn more about alchemy. You see, not only am I interested in science, I’m also interested in its relationship with magic.” Kotton took a few steps back as he allowed Doran to enter the room and close the door behind him. Since he only had as many minutes as Doran had announced available to him, he would have to be succinct in his purpose of being here.

“Knowing you, through the ears of many, I was wondering if you had the time to teach me a thing or to? I am willing to pay of course, through any way you see fit.”

Kotton watched as Doran’s shoulders stood as broad and as proud as they had been during his first glance at them. Then, he merely waited for a response, cradling his fingers together like he often did during times of nervousness.

[Doran]

Doran noticed the way Kotton threw back his shoulders and cleared his throat and wondered if he might suffer from social anxiety, or if this was a matter of a lack of self-confidence. There was also a hint of sweat on the young man’s brow that a less perceptive man might have missed. He did of course not comment on it. A lot of students were nervous when talking to a professor, although the reasons for that kind of behaviour eluded him. Were his colleagues and he not here to answer questions and offer their help?

“Into the classroom then”, he decided in a calm and cool tone of voice, but with a hint of a smile on his face, having come to the conclusion that his assumption that Kotton wanted to talk about alchemy had been correct. The young man might be worried about the state of his shirt, but to the Mortalborn such things didn’t matter. Unwrinkled clothes didn’t make you a better alchemist. Expensive clothes didn’t make you a better alchemist. Paying attention and making an effort made you a better alchemist.

“Which science?” he inquired. “Physics, chemistry or something else entirely?”

As he waited for Kotton’s answer, he directed him to one of the workstations where two chairs stood and gestured for him to take a seat. There were a lot of apparatuses that Kotton might or might not be familiar with, a centrifuge, a still, a burner, something to grind ingredients with. The wall behind the workstations was lined with cabinets that contained all kinds of reagents. They were locked, of course, as some of the reagents could be dangerous.

There were also a desk and a blackboard at the front of the classroom. The blackboard hadn’t been cleaned yet. If Kotton took a look, he might notice that the previous class had learned about the lifespan of alchemically created items and the need to refuel them.

When Kotton professed to an interest in the relationship between science and magic, the Mortalborn raised an eyebrow, in a more obvious fashion than before. “Blood magic – that is to say, replicating the effects of domain magic or Immortal blessings with alchemy and putting them into items or potions – is something that is beyond the scope of a beginner’s abilities. The consequences of a mistake can be severe, and even lethal”, he pointed out in a firm tone of voice. “I cannot in good conscience teach you something like that.”

“I can however teach you the basics of alchemy and cover some of the theory of how alchemy relates to domain magic”, he offered. “I do occasionally tutor students that pursue degrees other than alchemy, although I strongly suggest that you sign up for an alchemy degree if you are serious about it. There is only so much that I can teach you in a short amount of time. As for payment”, he continued and shook his head almost imperceptibly. “You already are a student at this university. It would be wrong to make you pay more than you already did. My help is free.”

“Now then”, he said and took a seat. Kotton would notice that the Mortalborn sat with his back straight and appeared to be completely confident and at ease. “I asked you which science you study because I won’t have to explain certain things, depending on your exact field of study. A lot of the early alchemical experiments are in essence chemistry. A degree in biology means that you will likely already be familiar with the properties of some creatures and plants that are used in alchemy on the other hand”, he explained before he paused for a moment and looked at Kotton.

“What shall I call you, by the way?” he asked, realizing that the young man hadn’t introduced himself yet.

[Kotton]

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As Doran instinctively spoke about blood magic, Kotton instinctively drew from his knapsack his journal and his pencil to boot all before taking diligent notes on how beyond beginner level such a thing was. Still, the knowledge of such a thing was enough for Kotton to think about long-term. He was no stranger to consequences. He had undergone many of them during his time alive and walking. Pier and Pre, for one, had made sure he knew his place, at least in relation to the likes of blessings and immortal marks and he had almost gone too far with his use of Glamour. Whilst he knew about consequences, like any student knew about discipline, he wasn’t entirely sure of its exactness. And he didn’t want to, lest it lead him to better understanding and higher intellect. But for now, blood magic was a no go as consequences were bad.

But the basics of alchemy? Sign him up. That was what he was here for after all. He had just been able to catch one of the best professors he knew to be able to learn from. That meant he was all eyes and ‘ears’, all hand and wrist, pencil ready and blank notepad at the disposal of written knowledge.

Doran sat with such prestige. His back was as straight as a ruler, he noticed. He couldn’t help but feel a modicum of inferiority since his posture was anything but perfect. Still, he would hone in on his teacher’s confident representation and copy it, that is until he caught on to the mimicry, which Kotton hoped he wouldn’t.

He positioned his legs shoulder width underneath the desk he sat against and he raised his head until he felt it was proportional to the direction and alignment appropriate given his gaze. After he had done this, he subconsciously lifted his dominant hand until his arm was hovering against the surface of the desk and not resting against it. Maybe this would sharpen his penmanship, make it more legible.

“Biology,” he all but blurted. A moment ticked by before Kotton gathered his emotions and formulated what was best next to say. “My main study is biology. I’m a medic at the clinic, you see and I have an interest in biology, though chemistry appeals to me.”

After another brief pause, the young man enabled his voice box to answer Doran’s question. “My name is Kotton.” He resisted the urge to expel the entire backstory as to why he had been named that, being adopted, yada yada. Now wasn’t the time for historical filigree. Now was the time for educational exchange.

All his life Kotton had been met with people who needed proof of his ability, documentation of his ability. All his life Kotton was supposed to give proof of just how great he was. Maybe it was because he had been so terminally hard of hearing or maybe it was because he just seemed a little off in relation to the rest of the population. Whatever the reason, this need to prove himself remained. And it remained to this trial. He wanted to make a good impression on this Doran character. He already felt at home with his teachings, even if only a few moments had surpassed since their introduction. It didn’t matter, though. All that mattered was that he seemed like a willful student with the genuine interest to further engage his brain in meaningful subjects such as alchemy.

“I must confess, all I know of alchemy is that there is isolation, purification and maybe transference of things so as to make them…” he fought for the correct use of terminology. Usable? Applicable? Acceptable? Then it hit him. “...stable? At least into a form that isn’t readily altered?”

Kotton bit his lip, hoping his lacklustre source of knowledge wasn’t just quips from the rumours of passersby without any actual information about the study.

[Doran]

When Kotton told him that his main study was biology, and that he was a medic at the clinic, Doran inclined his head slightly. For the briefest of moments, a smile flickered across his face. “I chose a similar path in life. I was a doctor at the Infirmary in Viden before I turned to alchemy. I still treat patients, but alchemy is my focus now”, he replied – he had most recently travelled to Cahyrst to treat a soldier’s phobia at the Imperial Army’s request - before he turned to watch Kotton take notes. He approved of that. Some of his students needed to be told to write something down. Apparently, this would not be the case with Kotton.

“Which clinic do you work at, if you don’t mind me asking, Kotton?” he enquired as he met the younger man’s gaze again. “The Order of the Adunih Outpost, or a different one? I used to work with some of the Order’s members, including Faith Augustin”, he explained his interest. He had made donations to the Order and even shared one of his inventions with it, but he had never joined. He preferred to be independent.

“Isolation and purification are often part of it”, he replied in a calm tone of voice when Kotton told him what he knew of alchemy. “Most reagents don’t exist in their pure form, but need to be processed. Strictly speaking, isolation and purification are still chemistry though. I use a centrifuge for that, for example”, he explained and pointed at one of the apparatuses that were part of the workstation. It essentially resembled a box with a container in the middle that you could place various samples into.

“Alchemy is the transference of properties from a source to a target and the modification of the substances involved. These additional steps are what separates an alchemist from a blacksmith who combines different metals – and thus their properties – into an alloy, for example”, he said before he abruptly stood and gestured for Kotton to follow him to one of the cabinets. He allowed him to look at their contents for a moment – the cabinets had glass doors – before he unlocked and opened one of them.

“In my opinion, the best way to teach you alchemy is to make an item with you and explain what exactly is happening”, he said. “There are some things that are hard to understand if you don’t see them. You can find common and uncommon resources from Scalvoris in this cabinet. Each vial and each jar is labelled. I also have a list of these resources’ effects”, he continued and proceeded to hand Kotton a folder.

“I’d like you to pick a single effect and a single medium, such as metal, wood, stone or cloth. If you have jewelry or a piece of clothing that you would like to enhance, you can use that for our exercise as well”, he offered. “Please let me know if you have any questions”, he added.

Notes

You can pick anything that is common or uncommon from the Flora or Materials list.

[Kotton]

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The happiness he felt when Kotton learnt about his tutor’s original occupational journey purged the rest of his doubt. He intuitively felt there was a connection between the two men, but hadn’t been entirely certain whether it was just or simply heartburn until right now.

“Which clinic do you work at, if you don’t mind me asking?” Hearing about the Order of the Adunih was no surprise. It was the main institution of Scalvoris and a place he had gone to when he was younger before his best friend’s father opened his own clinic. He felt a bit embarrassed to say the name not because he was ashamed to be working there, but because the name held no infamous title such as “the Order of the Adunih”. Before the clinic became a thing, Kotton had actually dreamed of working for the Order. He had set his sights high, studying diligently and keeping to a sole and secular path so that he could fulfil those dreams. But after a time, the novelty of working at a place with a well-known name just kind of… disappeared. Like those young students who strived to go to the university when any trades school suited just fine. So long as the knowledge was available to be taught and learnt, there really didn’t seem to be a reason to put all your energy into one thing and then remain paralysed with oppression at the very real prospect of not being accepted.

After this inner monologue he had to contend with, the young man felt more encouraged with his being able to announce exactly where it was he worked, even if the name of it was so basal. “The Clinic,” he said proudly with a soft smile hinting at his chapped lips.

Now Kotton’s understanding of science was still in its infant stages. He knew not what a centrifuge was but instantly lit up like a spark struck between flint and steel when he was pointed in the direction of one. How clever, he thought as he began musing about potential uses for it.

As Doran continued to speak, so did Kotton’s lust for knowledge. Hands-on learning was the best way he could possibly learn, so he was all for having his tutor show him how to make an item using alchemy. However, he first made sure he had understood each and every syllable that had been spoken to him. He ruminated on the terms in his mind, flipping them upside down, inside out, viewing them from every which way. The way he analysed things was similar to how a womaniser might tie a cherry stem using only their tongue. Over and under, through the loop, flicking this and that way- all the while using a very strong and personal muscle to develop a fine appreciation for the substance.

The folder recently placed into his hand felt heavier than he had thought it would. Or maybe it was just his usual overthinking imagination that kept him from simply ignoring the weight that had been hefted in his hands. Under the pressure of not wanting to waste Doran’s time, Kotton’s eyes lingered for only a few moments at the various texts that littered the documents within the folder. After a time of idle silence, he finally spoke up and pointed to two words listed from the many in the pages held inside the folder.

They were: Birdflower. Whilst it didn't sound familiar, it sounded pleasant, hence why he chose it.

and

“Riverstone”.

However, his eyes hesitated on several interesting minerals. Apparently there was something such as a sandstone that existed, identified as “a stone which, when one is in proximity to it, drains one of all emotions”. There was also such a thing as a snow crystal which had the ability to “freeze what it touches”. Kotton noted where it was located: Ishallr. And then there was a lightstone which seemed to emit light proportional to the size of the stone. This was also found in Ishallr. Was Ishallr now a destination he wished to visit or what?

Then his eyes dawdled across the various sorts of fabrics. Bloodied leather, Moshide, Shrieking Hide and Collisihide. Every fabric listed, apart from the lunar silk (which still had a strong attribution to a living organism, seemed to have come from a once breathing being.

“Do all the fabrics come from some sort of… animal?” he asked, licking his lips as if there was second-hand blood on them. He didn’t want to seem rude or arrogant, but there were sure to be others aside from himself who shared the same need to not engage in harming others whether classified as animals or monsters alike.

“In addition, I seem to be having a difficult time fully understanding what “single effect” means.” Since his head was already spinning- round and round and round, here we go!- he wouldn’t want to regret not spending more time on one of the many things that had been stated earlier. Alchemy is the transference of properties from a source to a target and the modification of the substances involved. In his head, Kotton began to theorise. A source such as a turtle with a thick and durable shell transferred to the likes of a naked mole-rat. But what were these modifications of substances that were involved? Was he getting ahead of himself? Should he just relax and let his teacher teach? Or were these important questions to ask?

So he verbalised his thoughts as soon as they occurred to him, especially the part about the turtle and the naked mole-rat.

But he would apologise quickly thereafter for fear that his ignorance would infuriate rather than spark theoretical conversation. Whilst the former or the latter had yet to receive a decisive response, he understandably began to feel unsure about his choices. Was the single effect and medium he chose meritorious or had he blundered with the whole thing entirely?

[Doran]

“The Clinic?” he asked when Kotton told him which clinic he worked at and raised an eyebrow very lightly as he wondered which institution exactly his new student meant. Aeon’s Hope, or maybe that place on Faldrass? It was most likely a small privately-run place, he concluded. In any case, Kotton seemed to be proud to be working there, judging by the smile on his face, and thus he nodded at him. “Do you plan on staying there?” he wanted to know, as he wondered what kind of aspirations the young man had, apart from learning alchemy. He gave him the impression of being an ambitious sort, and curious.

He had had students who listened and students who really listened. As he watched Kotton, he came to the conclusion that he belonged in the second group. He seemed to consider every word and every single syllable, analyzing them and trying to uncover their secrets. It was an approach that he approved of, but of course, it took more than an analytical mind to become an exceptional scientist. Curiosity was a part of it, as was creativity. In order to make true advancements, you needed to be able to think in unconventional ways.

Which reagents Kotton picked, would tell him if he was capable of that – without overestimating himself in the process. Some of the reagents he listed were harder to work with than others.

“This is just a list of resources that are unique to Scalvoris”, he replied when Kotton wanted to know if all fabrics came from some sort of animal. “Of course, I can also supply you with fabrics made from plants, such as linen or cotton. Why do you ask?” he wanted to know, wondering if Kotton was just curious or if it was an ethical issue.

Some people didn’t approve of killing animals.

“An item with a single effect would be a pot that is always cold so that the food in it stays fresh longer, for example”, he explained when Kotton asked him to clarify what meant by a ‘single effect’. “Another example would be a piece of clothing that has been imbued with the hardness of steel so that it protects the wearer as well as any piece of armor. That’s the entirety of the effect. It doesn’t do anything else”, he continued.

A moment later, when Kotton talked about the naked mole-rat and the turtle, he furrowed his brow.

“A living being cannot be changed with alchemy, at least not permanently. The effects of potions are only temporary. You could strengthen the skin of a naked mole-rat for a while, but eventually, it would be just as soft as before again. In addition to that, you need to make sure that the substances you put into a potion aren’t toxic”, he said.

Kotton’s questions didn’t infuriate him – it took more than that for him to lose his patience. On the contrary, he appreciated them. He’d rather his students asked questions, even potentially silly ones, than make mistakes later on because they didn’t understand things properly. Alchemy wasn’t a science that easily forgave mistakes. Sometimes, mistakes could kill you.

“I assume you want to imbue the Riverstone with the effect of the Birdflower and make it respond to music?” he asked a moment later and glanced at the resources Kotton had chosen. “If that is the case, we need to prepare the Birdflower. You can’t just put it on something as is. When it comes to things such as flowers, I usually just crush them and mix them with other substances to produce a paste or paint, or in the case of bigger items, a liquid that I can submerge the item I want to enhance in”, he explained.

“I would also treat my item with a primer. A primer prepares the item for receiving the enhancement”, he added. “You can find a number of suitable primers in the cabinet, and there is a mortar and pestle that you can use to crush your flowers. You can start working now. Unless I was mistaken, and you want to transfer the property of the stone to the flower?” he asked and raised an eyebrow barely noticeably. That, he thought, would be harder, but entirely doable, with a little help.

[Kotton]

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Kotton immediately corrected himself after he had given the wrong name for the place he worked for. The Clinic was what he called it since it was short and easy to say, but it was actually called the Clinic Corner and should be introduced to people as such.

“Sorry,” he blurted as he attempted to rectify his mistake. “The Clinic Corner.” He hoped that wouldn’t pose an issue down the line. “And yes, I plan to stay there for as long as they hope to have me. There are many places within the company to work. Whilst the section I work in isn’t the greatest at the moment, my wish is to progress up and into another.”

“If they’ll have me,” he added quickly, hoping not to sound so arrogant or egotistical.

After hearing Doran’s explanation for the use of animal material, his body seemed to relax, his heart rate dropped, and his frenetic thoughts decreased. If he was to become any kind of credible scientist, he needed to understand that with science came subjects and when it came to subjects they were most definitely never human. He understood ethics and how they played a part in research, but it was still a struggle for him to simply get rid of his values and beliefs for the sake of experimentation. So he huffed a breath and focused, though as it were not into Doran’s eyes but his beard. He was still trying to work up to looking into his eyes. He was aware that looking into someone’s eyes was a sign of respect, but his antisocial personality was difficult to ignore, just as the intensive beating of his heart was.

“I only ask because I don’t… necessarily… like to use animals?” Why he ended his statement to Doran’s question was beyond him. He meant to seem confident, self-assured in whatever it was he wanted to do. But here he was making questions out of his declarations. Could you imagine? He needed to stop it. So he did, even if it meant him hypothetically drawing up his pants so they fell above his waist line.

He clarified, “It’s important I understand the types of fabrics used incase I don’t have access to those made from animals.” He jutted his chin out in a last attempt to appear confident before subtly wringing his hands behind his backside.

Fortunately for him, the conversation changed and was redirected back towards business. A living being cannot be changed with alchemy, at least not permanently? That was news to his ears. He would make sure to remember this as if he had a pen and paper at his disposal. He was still stuck on his infatuation of a piece of clothing and its imbued hardness into steel. He thought about this using storytelling: ‘A piece of limp cloth entered a building wishing to be strong. The labourer at the front asked the piece of cloth ‘why for?’ to which the piece of cloth said, ‘because I keep getting hurt.’ ‘By what?’ the labourer asked, trying to get a grasp on the situation. But the cloth wouldn’t explain further. The labourer wasn’t dissuaded by the silence and instead made it so a mask of armour sat against the piece of cloth. ‘Thank you,’ the cloth finally said as it set its sights onward towards bigger and better things.

Kotton liked to use storytelling to help him understand things he didn’t know; it made it so he could figure out complex ideas and notions that otherwise weren’t comprehensible by other means.

Doran’s demonstration of crushing the birdflower against a mortar with the use of pestle was robust. It made Kotton’s skin crawl with good energy, made him lively to learn more from him the way a young bird wanted to learn how to fly from its mother. He watched diligently as the material transformed into a paste. Kotton had almost forgotten to pay attention to his teacher’s words regarding primers.

Primers, as it were, were located in the cabinet? Kotton blanched as he failed to anticipate this movement of him. Which cabinet? Where? What did they look like? Was he a failure to not already know what primers were? He bit his lower lip and the insides of his cheek for longer than he cared to admit before his eyes latched onto the spot necessary for him to continue his learning. He would have apologised for his ignorance had he the time, but since there wasn’t much time apart from locating things, he kept silent.

He took over the crushing of the flower using the mortar and pestle, finding great joyfulness in squashing and churning and squashing some more. Kotton was set on performing the most basic of alchemy, but his mind churned after listening to Doran’s “extra piece of information” which included the transfer of property of the stone to the flower. Did Kotton want to travel down such a complex rabbit hole? Or did he simply want to learn about the basics? He contemplated for a minute or more, as if he had the option, but ultimately went with learning about the basics. The more advanced and difficult routes would need a smarter Kotton, and he wasn’t there yet.

Primers. So, that meant what? Fragments of wood? Piles of sand? Shreds of metal? Maybe threads of animal hair? Kotton would have thrown his own fist into his head if he weren’t being watched. He hated being wrong. He hated not knowing how things worked. And he hated people asking him questions or declaring him to act a certain way when he wasn’t sure how to. His forehead swelled as he overthought the process he had been requested to think about. He flickered his eyes between two imaginary ideas, left and right and left again until he couldn’t flick his eyes anymore. His lack of attention and his inability to pay attention and determine things connected to what wouldn’t help him when it came to rattling off facts or other terms of memorization.

Primes. Primes. Primes. The word levitated inside his mind. It didn’t associate with anything and it didn’t adhere to anything other preconceived or not. Primes. What did that mean? He wracked his brain and found that primers “transfer the property of the stone to the flower”. These were supposedly found in the cabinet where other the primers were stored, at least according to Doran the instructor.

Kotton hated not knowing. He hated not being able to inform people of things. He hated not being able to instruct those without knowledge to the things they wished to be informed about. ANd now was no different.

Was he stupid or what in the actual hell were primers?

Kotton bit his lower lip and threw his eyes to the left, hoping to gain some knowledge in doing so. Since he couldn’t, he was left with asking what he felt was a stupid question. “What are primers?”

He was not the type of person to ask questions willy-nilly. He was the type of person to do research, perform experiments, look back at his notes for anything and everything that could relate to the question he needed to be answered. But now was not one of those times. And he felt threatened by it. He should know what Doran was asking of him. He should have come prepared, with questions, for his instructor to answer, if not be boggled by. And since that wasn’t the case, Kotton’s confidence, his composure and thus self-reassurance dipped.

He had already made room in his mind for the definition of what a primer was: something that “prepares the item for receiving the enhancement”, but everything that came next was but a mystery.

Kotton resisted in himself from sounding small, “I do this, and then I do that?”

Then he added, just for kicks, what he supposed Doran might not want to hear, “What if I want to transfer the property of the stone to the flower?”

[Doran]

“You don’t have to use animals if you don’t want to. There are alternatives – and ways to replicate the effects of materials that come from animals”, Doran calmly replied. He didn’t have a problem with people that disapproved of using materials that came from animals – or eating meat – for whatever reason. It wasn’t up to him to judge them. The only thing that made him raise an eyebrow was the fact that Kotton made his statement sound like a question. Was he embarrassed or shy – or was he not sure if he really didn’t want to use animals?

He looked at the young man for a moment, but he didn’t say anything, as the matter wasn’t important enough in his opinion. It would, hopefully, not affect their alchemy lesson.

“So, you would use fabrics that are made from animals if there really were no other option, Kotton?” he asked in a calm and neutral tone of voice before he inclined his head slightly. That spoke of at least a certain amount of flexibility which was something that found his approval. He doubted that Kotton’s confidence was entirely genuine though.

“Over there”, he told Kotton and pointed when the young man seemed to be confused as to which cabinet he would find the primers in. “The containers are all labelled, for ease of use”, he added before he fell silent once more in order to watch Kotton crush the flowers. He did a decent enough job at it in his opinion and thus he decided not to intervene.

When Kotton wanted to know what primers were, he narrowed his eyes though. “I already explained that a primer prepares the target for receiving the enhancement”, he said, his tone of voice a hint cooler and sharper. “They can be made from a wide variety of different substances and come in powdered or liquid form. Some items accept an enhancement without the use of a primer, but unless you are intricately familiar with alchemy, it’s best to err on the side of caution. Adding a primer isn’t harmful”, he elaborated as he wondered why Kotton hadn’t heard his previous statement.

Was it due to his nervousness?

The young man wasn’t stupid, he had a suitable background, and he was curious, but if he was so nervous that it kept him from properly focusing on the task at hand, something needed to be done.

“I’d like you to pay more attention”,[7b] he told him sternly. “There is no reason to be nervous here, but if you miss something – or memorize something wrong – it can have negative consequences in the long run. That being said, I’d like you to find a container now, fill it with the primer and submerge the stone”, he continued and directed him to where he could find bowls and glasses. Kotton seemed like someone that needed directions.

“Once you have done that, I want you to take a bottle of oil – linseed oil will work, for example – and mix the crushed flowers with it in another container until you get a paste of sorts. If you put the crushed flowers on the stone as is, they won’t stick to it, and the effect will be weak or non-existent”, he explained, his tone of voice just as calm and polite as before, and pointed once more before he replied, “The same. You would grind the stone into a powder and treat the flower with it. Does that answer your question, Kotton?”