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This is the opening chapter of my novel, Tranquility. |
Time was an illusive thing in the windowless laboratory at the base of a now defunct turret. Parzei Bronzefield, the leading alchemist, couldn't recall the last time she'd seen the sun rise or set. Yet, her aching bones and weary eyes told her it was late. The soft orange glow of candles illuminated the dusty chalkboard before her, scrawled across its surface her own shorthand. The task of deciphering the thousand-year-old formula had fallen upon her and her team. Unfortunately, it was captured in a cryptic nomenclature, one dating back to the long dead Attanian Empire. Items pertinent to their discovery cluttered the room: glassware of all shapes and sizes, curling parchment, chemicals, and a wealth of precious aetherstone. Crystalline and shaped like a teardrop, aetherstone could be converted to fuel using alchemy. The hope was the formula contained a new method for extracting this energy, one far more efficient than the current system in place. With a sigh, Parzei removed her spectacles and massaged her temples. “Have we tried combining two parts borium and one part xodium to satisfy the unknown?” She couldn’t believe how weary her own voice sounded. Prudence, her linguist, looked up from her text. Her large brown eyes, framed by her flawless ginger-blonde hair, surveyed the others. She said nothing. Similarly, Spark, her hulking engineer, whose bald head gleamed beneath the light of a hanging lantern, placed both hands on his workbench, also silent. The question had been for Jkl, her chief in applied alchemy, but he responded with only a snore. Hunched over a splintering desk, Jkl snoozed. His chin rested on a carefully positioned fist, his elbow balancing it by a miracle of physics. Each snoring breath pushed his dark blonde hair from his face, revealing a mouth leaking drool. How long has he been asleep? She didn’t care. With a frown and three hasty steps, she shoved the slumbering alchemist. It didn’t take much to jar her teammate into consciousness and compromise the precarious position in which he rested. When Jkl awoke, he was already halfway off the stool. His eyes shot open like he’d been roused from a nightmare. His arms flailed, reaching for a purchase, any purchase. When they found nothing but air, he fell to the stone with a painful smack and a surprised cry. The stool fell forward with a hollow clank and wobbled before settling. Everyone grimaced at the spectacle, save for the one who’d initiated it. “Divine Family, Par!” Jkl cursed to his deity, his voice both wild with fury and thick with sleep. “There’s easier ways to wake someone!” Parzei stepped closer, fists pale and clenched at her side. “I need you awake!” Her shrill voice echoed, dwarfing the sound of chalk snapping in her hand. Jkl recoiled. He threw his hands in front of his face as if anticipating some thrown projectile. She stepped closer, and he inched backwards until a table thwarted his escape. “Everyone else is being useful. You are the only person who actually needs to be awake right now, and what are you doing? Dreaming?” Her teammate hesitated, and when Parzei did nothing but glare, he lowered his hands and rose slowly. Now upright, he massaged his backside through his trousers, wincing as he located where his tailbone had connected with the floor. “I was dreaming, actually.” Pinpricks of fury at his lack of remorse skittered across her knuckles, and her eyes narrowed. “Pray tell of what?” Righting the stool and easing back onto it like an elderly man easing into a tepid bath, he said, “Sleep. I was dreaming of sleep. And sweet Father of the Land and Mother of the Wind, it was glorious.” He chuckled and a smirk spread across his face. It would appear her ability to instill fear had fled, along with the Jkl who feared repercussions. This was the familiar, arrogant, obnoxious Jkl she knew all too well. The room grew as tense as a bowstring with a nocked arrow. One of Jkl’s neglected experiments bubbled in the background, and it reminded Parzei of his carelessness. She had to stop herself from lifting the glassware off the flame and smashing it against his face. As much joy as the thought brought her—more than she'd felt in weeks—she forced it from her mind. Losing her temper would only create a schism in the already strained group. Worse, Jkl may quit, and she still needed him to actualize the formula. Assuming we have something to actualize, she thought bitterly. Their eyes remained locked for some time, and she was reminded why she nearly passed on him for the team. Though arguably the most talented applied alchemist at the University of Nevershade, Jkl lacked the appropriate work ethic. They were all tired. They all wanted to go to bed. She didn’t need to poll them to know that. But sleep was secondary. It was a luxury she couldn’t afford. She hadn’t slept in days and wouldn’t until the work was done. It wasn’t complicated: she expected the same level of dedication from everyone else. Finally calm enough to continue, Parzei repeated her question. “I asked, have we already tried combining two parts borium and one part xodium to satisfy the unknown?” Knocking back a swig from his mug, Jkl nodded. He grimaced as he swallowed, as if the liquid within was potent. “Yes. Early on. It didn’t work. The result failed to liquefy.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Besides, it wouldn’t be cost feasible, not with the constraints imposed by the crown.” Parzei discarded the pulverized chalk and frowned. What concern was cost? She was trying to solve the formula—a formula with one and only one solution. Giving the treasury a reason to celebrate was beyond her cares. “Xodium is almost as precious as aetherstone,” explained Jkl. “We get ours from X’Voria, who, last I checked, we are at war with.” He knocked back another swig of whatever was in the mug. Water, she hoped. Parzei rolled her eyes and turned back to the chalkboard. “We’re not at war with them. No more than we’ve been for the last three hundred years, anyway.” The Kingdom of X’Voria had been after the subcontinent of New Adelia even before it bore its current title. First the nomadic tribes defended their forested territories. Then the Adelians defended their conquered land. The X’Vorians had been testing the borders high atop Mount Ghal ever since. “Can it not be synthesized?” she asked. “It’s expensive to synthesize as well.” Parzei raked her scalp with a chalky claw, ignoring the dust in her silvery disheveled hair. “You should formulate a new way to synthesize it and make us all rich.” “Right,” he said sarcastically. “Because that’s why we dedicated our lives to science: to get rich.” Parzei said nothing. “Besides,” he continued, “I’m not sharing my wealth with you, Parzei. Your father’s got more land than all our noble families combined.” His crooked grin grew. Parzei shot him a scornful glance before abandoning the conversation. He was mocking her for being from the Farmlands—an area in the northwest rich in agriculture. Yes, her father was an Adelian lord—Lord Wayland Bronzefield of Willowhill—and yes, he had a great deal of land. Save for that, though, he had little else. Sometimes he even lent a hand to the natives in the fields, but she would never divulge that. Many of the university students came from noble houses. While Jkl was nothing more than a rich snob, Prudence’s father bore the title of baron. Not just any baron either—Baron Darragh Underwood of Skytorar, the kingdom’s territory in the clouds. Needless to say, Parzei remained tight-lipped when it came to the finer details of her home. With the interruption behind them, everyone resumed their original tasks. Prudence returned to her leather bound volume, and Spark continued tinkering at his workbench. Jkl fought to remain conscious. He must have won the battle, because moments later he downed the last of the mug’s contents, sprang to his feet, and met Parzei at the board. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught him stealing glances at her. Why? She didn’t know, didn’t care. He should be looking at Prudence, who with her fine clothing and immaculate hair looked fit for a royal wedding. Parzei wore a man’s tunic, large enough to accommodate two, and she hadn’t brushed her hair since leaving for the university three years ago. She didn’t care about appearances or the opposite sex. She was the daughter of a lord but had no interest in marrying some snot-nosed nobleman and living a life of matrimonial servitude. She cared about pushing scientific boundaries, making discoveries. She cared about solving this blasted formula. Beside her, Jkl cleared his throat. “I think we need to consider this element is something undiscovered.” He pointed to the far wall where a sheet of cracking parchment depicted the table of the fundamental elements. “We’ve never seen this rune before. In fact, we’ve never seen this shorthand before. We’ve been fortunate enough with the other pieces, but this one may not be there. We should be looking at mineral samples, searching for something new.” “I don’t think so,” interjected Prudence from across the room. “While the shorthand is new, the fundamental table is complete.” She paused before continuing. “I think it’s a compound; we should be experimenting with more elemental combinations.” Her face brightened, and she pointed at the text in front of her. “Look at these formulas derived by Duli, the Attanian’s most radical alchemist. His work was centuries ahead of its—” “Duli?” Jkl asked, incredulous. “Didn’t he die inhaling zeron gas because he thought it wasn’t poisonous?” He barked a laugh. “Yeah, real revolutionary, Prude.” Prudence pursed her lips, no doubt concealing a thousand rude replies. “All I’m saying is, we need to be experimenting with what we know.” Her voice fell to a lower register. “Not hunting rocks in the Scar.” “And all I’m saying is, if the Attanian’s had it, it’s in the desert somewhere. It would be dogged of us to think we’ve discovered everything.” Prudence bounced back with another retort, and Parzei watched as they argued. Jkl’s point made sense, but she cringed at the thought of sifting through rock samples, hoping to find a new element. She loathed that kind of laboratory work. Instead, she preferred to use her mind and the principles of logic to solve problems. Let Jkl play with beakers and test tubes. Her strengths lie in the theoretical realm. Eventually, the arguments died out. Either Prudence felt unsupported by the team and had given up, or Jkl had shaken her confidence. The end result was the same: one unknown still remained. Parzei glared at the board like it had wronged her and willed the answer to present itself. While she’d deciphered many formulas, this one was something else altogether. It surpassed all others in both length and complexity. After days with no progress, Spark had suggested taking another look at the tablet. A waste of time and energy, she’d retorted. Even under tremendous strain her memory remained impeccable. All she needed to do was retreat inside her brilliant mind to see the tablet the curators held upstairs. She took a deep breath, cocked her head back, and closed her eyes. She visualized the rune which remained unmapped to its partner of modern alchemy. It resembled a cone, but in lieu of a tip, a jagged opening revealed what looked like a basin at the top. An eye hovered above like a storm cloud. The Vorelli deity, Vihna? She was represented by an eye. How the neighboring kingdom of Vorelle or their deity played into this, Parzei couldn’t even guess. Sweet, all knowing Enlightened, what is the blasted rune? she asked herself and her deity. Most Adelians worshipped the Faith of the Divine Family, but not Parzei. Four prophets—the Father, Mother, Daughter, and Son—comprised the Divine Family, and their ability to command the elements—earth, wind, fire, and water, respectively—served as the basis for their faith. The same divine magic was imparted to their clergy, which they demonstrated within the walls of their temples, but Parzei didn’t care for magic. She liked knowledge, wisdom, which is why she followed the Faith of the Enlightened. Instead of a deity, they valued intelligence as a form of divinity. The founder, Shria the Shrewd—a silver haired woman of unthinkable wisdom—had dictated the faith’s teachings over a thousand years before. Parzei found their beliefs much more to her liking. After a long conversational drought, Jkl made an announcement. “I’m heading up to the surface with the non cave-dwelling people. I’m going to grab a sip of ale and perhaps a bite of spiced curry.” “No alcohol while we’re under a deadline,” Parzei said without looking over. Jkl huffed. “Fine, water then. Anyone need anything?” When no one did, he started toward the door. Parzei was staring at the board when it hit her like a lightning bolt. In a blur, she spun, blocking Jkl’s path. He stared back at her with wide, unsure eyes as she seized the fabric of his light-colored tunic. Excitement, wonderment, and jubilation all welled up within her. At that moment, her hands trembled. Instinct drove Jkl away. He moved to step back, but Parzei, who still held his cloth, thwarted his retreat. “Par,” he said nervously, “are you—“ “That’s it,” she said. “That’s where I’ve seen the rune before.” A smile spread across her face, and she released her grip on Jkl’s shirt so that her arms hung at her side. The room grew electric as everyone’s attention perked. “I know what the rune represents!” Prudence’s book hit the floor with a loud thunk, and she shrieked, “What?!” Spark set down the hunk of metal and stepped out from behind the workbench. “The rune is Mount Ghal,” Parzei explained while the others gathered around. “More specifically, it’s the Lifebreather. The reservoir lakes at the intersection of New Adelia, X’Voria, and Vorelle. They retain water for distribution to the various kingdoms. The water then flows down the mountain, into New Adelia’s main water supply, the Lifegiver. Then, eventually, it empties into the Scar Canyon.” As Parzei spoke, she acted out the motion of flowing water with her hands, starting high and ending low. They watched her with a combination of interest and confusion. “It’s water,” she said. “The missing compound is water.” She folded her arms across her chest and felt her signature “I know I’m right” grin taking form. Jkl furrowed his brow. “How the…Water?” “Think about it. The Attanians would have deduced the reservoirs logically. They would have assumed their water collected high in the mountains. Gravity would’ve carried it down the rocky slopes, through the green lands north of the desert, and then to the tip of the Scar. Without ever seeing the lakes, they would’ve assumed they looked like a mountain with a reservoir at the peak. Otherwise the water would not have been able to collect. Sure, some of their water came from rain, but this is the desert for the sake of the Enlightened! The majority would have come from the north and they knew it. After all, they were scientists. We’ve never come across water in any of the other formulas we’ve deciphered. It makes sense that it would have taken time to even consider it.” “And the eye?” Jkl asked. Realization dawned on Prudence, and she beat Parzei to the answer. “The eye is Vihna. Divine Family, it all makes sense!” Parzei was already nodding. “Indeed, Prudence. The Lifebreather was in Vorelli territory at the time of the ancients. The eye is their deity, Vihna.” Jkl still looked unconvinced. He rubbed his chin and stared at the board. His thoughts ticked like gears behind his eyes, clearly attempting to create some rebuttal, some inconsistency, something she’d overlooked. When nothing came, he nodded slowly. After all, her hypothesis was the best they had to go on. They had to follow through and see if she was right. Parzei scanned the board and located the gap in the formula. Standing on the tips of her toes, she scribbled in the rune representing water in her own shorthand. “I have to admit, Par, that is quite brilliant,” Jkl said. “It’s also a little obvious in retrospect.” “Thanks, Jkl,” she replied. “And thank the Enlightened it was only a little obvious.” “And how about that? I was right!” Jkl proclaimed. He panned, scanning the blank stares of his teammates. When no one spoke, he continued. “I said it was in the desert somewhere!” Good-natured chuckles filled the room. “Great job, Par,” said Spark. “This is the breakthrough we’ve been waiting for. I’m sure of it.” Pride and reverence covered his face, and she drank it like something sweet and delicious. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She bowed to each of them, being only a little ironic. Clapping her hands, she sent a fresh cloud of dust into the air. “Well, Jkl, you better get to it. You have to confirm I’m right.” She moved towards the door. Jkl spun. “Where are you going?” “It will take you at least two hours to develop the formula from scratch so we can test it.” He only stared. “I’m going to bed.” |