Fragments of Alchemy: The Code Keeper

Part I

A Meeting

The villagers of Alkborough always noticed when the strangers appeared in the village. Nobody knew where they came from, but they were easy to recognize. The pockets gave them away.

Even in the heat of summer, the strangers wore long coats, jackets, vests, and sometimes even robes, covered in pockets. No one knew what they kept in their pockets, but many villagers had seen a stranger pull something from a pocket and mumble strange words. Strange things always happened when strangers put their hands in their pockets.

A solid wall would temporarily resemble a doorway that a stranger disappeared through. Wild, unnatural animals would appear. And most alarmingly, the villagers always forgot exactly what happened, what the strangers looked like, and where they went. They were left with only vague memories of pockets and the strangest feeling of forgetfulness.

This particular summer day, the villagers couldn’t help but stare as a small group of strangers in gray robes entered the village. They converged on Saint John the Baptist’s Church, which stood atop the hill in the center of the village. The strangers crowded outside the church, and someone cried out, “Look, here comes the Keeper!”

The group of strangers all turned to watch a man come down the street. His soft clean-shaven face appeared too young to match the wisdom in his chocolate brown eyes. His silver hair was cut short so it stood up on top. Over a pinstripe charcoal suit, the man wore a lengthy gray vest covered in bulging pockets of all sizes. For practical purposes, he wore black converse shoes that kept him light on his feet. In the dusky light of the sunset, the man seemed to be pulsing with a subtle effervescent aura.

A small creature with black and white fur hopped along on rabbit-like hind legs, following the Keeper. The animal had floppy ears, moose-like antlers, a white cotton tail, and warm gentle eyes. His front hooves made a nice clopping noise on the sidewalk as the pair approached the medieval tenth century church in the middle of the village. The creature reared back on his rabbity hind legs and put his moose hooves in the air.

“Ever the sensitive one, aren’t you, Sampson?” the man said. “I suppose you want me to carry you?”

Sampson merely nodded his head as if he understood the Keeper’s words.

The man reached into a pocket and pulled out a pinch of dust. “Evaporo,” he said, and a Circle on his hand glowed red. The dust transformed into a small cloud. “Solidum.” Another burst of red light caused the cloud to solidify and floated down to Sampson, who hopped on. The cloud carried the small creature across the street to the old church.

“Thank you for meeting me,” the Keeper said with both hands raised in welcome. “Let us go in.” He touched the wall and a tattoo on his palm glowed purple. The part of the church wall immediately vanished, revealing a new archway that did not lead into the church, but somewhere else. Inside, a large group had gathered: men and women in white cloaks, as well as adolescents in vests, and men and women in robes, all in a variety of lengths and colors.

The group of strangers entered the loud room that was far too large to fit inside the small church. Rows upon rows of seats circled the room in concentric rings, which descended further and further down into the center of the spherical room. The cacophony of voices bounced off the marble walls and stone benches of the vast chamber. Above their heads, the black roots of a giant tree reached out in giant tendrils along the ceiling.

The Keeper proceeded to take his place at the center of the amphitheater, Sampson floating along behind him on his cloud. He waved his hand, and his attire morphed into long white robes embroidered in golden leaves. The Keeper patiently waited as the room filled up, and then finally, he opened his arms wide in a welcoming gesture and said, “Thank you for coming to meet me.”

The voices died down, plunging the room into silence.

“I know many of you have already heard. I have invited you here to personally confirm that early this morning I trapped the Code Breaker in an Eternity Prison.”

The room erupted. The adolescents all immediately turned to their nearby friends with shouts of shock. While most of the adults attempted to quiet them down, a few stood and shouted questions at the Keeper; he merely put his hands together and waited for the crowd to calm down.

“…The Code Breaker has committed one too many crimes against humanity, and he is my prisoner now. I realize this means that I have declared war on the Shadow Faction. I urge you to remain calm and keep a level head in the days to come. I predict there will be retaliation of some sort. I will concentrate all my efforts to keep Blackthorn and Burtree free of fighting.

“This will likely be a furtive war, so I strongly urge vigilance and cooperation among the Giver’s Personas and my Animarum. If we are to resist the Code Breaker’s Shadows, we must work together. We are all Alchemists, no matter our backgrounds and personal histories.”

The Keeper gave the room a piercing stare, taking his time to complete a full rotation on the center dais where he stood.

“Now, if there are no demurrals, you will excuse me. I have an army to organize.” The Keeper ascended the stairs out of the room, passing by numerous Alchemists who spoke encouraging words to him. Even a few reached out as he went by, and the Keeper shook hands with them.

The Keeper exited the large room through the temporary archway, returning to the grassy knoll outside Saint John the Baptist’s Church. The small group of Alchemists in gray followed him out and quickly went their separate ways. The Keeper waved his hand, and the magical archway melted away and the church wall returned to normal.

A lady sat upon the ivy-covered wall surrounding the church. She wore a deep green knee-length dress complete with an even darker green apron that was covered in pockets. Her hair was the color of goldenrod, long and curly and her lips were rose-pink. Black tattoos covered her arms and hands. Upon her shoulder sat a small animal with spotted fur, whiskers, a stub of a tail, and gray wings tipped with black.

“Ah, Fanella!” The Keeper approached and pulled the lady into a jovial hug. “Thank you for waiting for me.”

Fanella pressed her tattooed palm to the man’s temple and squeezed a crystal in her other hand. “Visui,” she whispered. Her tattoo flared green, and the Vision Conversion revealed that the man truly was who he appeared to be. Fanella let out a sigh and returned the embrace.

“Ever the vigilant one.” The Keeper gave Fanella a grandfatherly kiss on the cheek, enveloping her in his faded orange aura. “Well done, my dear. And hallo there, Twitchet.” He cheerfully petted the creature perched on Fanella’s shoulder. The strange animal meowed and flitted down to the grass to greet her friend Sampson with the friendly pounce of a feline huntress.

“Will your husband be joining us?” the Keeper asked as Sampson tumbled off his cloud and rolled in the grass with a bellowing, moose-like yowl.

Fanella’s fair cheeks flushed pink. “Oh, Nicholas, I didn’t tell Van.”

Nicholas’s deep eyes twinkled. “If it was up to Silvanus, I imagine Althea would receive all her training in complete secrecy.”

“If it had been up to Van, we would have all gone into hiding. He really misses his Protégé, and I miss my sister. We all want to keep their daughter safe. If Van came with us, he’d probably try to convince us to stay in hiding together.” Fanella pushed her tangle of golden hair away from her face, disturbing a zebra-colored butterfly hidden amid her curls. Meanwhile, Twitchet had captured Sampson’s cotton tail between her claws. She playfully chomped down while Sampson attempted to buck the small creature off. All in good fun, of course. “Is it time, Keeper?” Fanella asked finally.

“Yes, the time has come.” Nicholas glanced about and noticed that several villagers stared at them from a ways off. The two Alchemists surely made an odd pair standing together outside the church.

The Keeper reached out to Fanella and seemingly searched for something invisible to the naked eye. Finally, he said, “Praesum!” and his hand glowed dark blue. Fanella glowed with a dark blue light for a moment. “There. I have absolved you of your very first Alchemical Oath. You may teach Alchemy to the child now.”

Fanella nodded gravely. “I will not abuse this privilege you have bestowed upon me, Keeper.”

The Keeper nodded and reached into a deep pocket and pulled out a simple twig. “This is the Component for their Hidden Haven; it will lead you there.” He reached to hand the twig to Fanella. “As soon as you arrive, my White Walls will fade away, and you and anyone who happens to follow you will be able to enter.”

Fanella nodded solemnly and took the twig.

“She is the key to everything,” Nicholas said. “She must survive; she is our only hope.”

Fanella carefully placed the twig into a special pocket near her heart, underneath her apron. “You can count on me to keep her safe, Keeper.”

“Do you remember all that must be done?” he asked.

“I still have the list,” Fanella said, putting her hand back on the pocket over her heart. She took out a tightly rolled scroll made of purple paper and after rotating it in her hand, she immediately returned it to its secure pocket.

The cheer came back to Nicholas’s face, which was crinkled from persistently smiling. “Remember to let her make her own choices as often as possible. Take care on your journey. Remain ever vigilant and do say hallo to your sister. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Nicholas’s brown eyes twinkled. “I believe I have some Recreants to befuddle.”

Nicholas fumbled around his vest and found his stash of centella. Rubbing the green leaves between the palms of his hands, Nicholas spoke the Word that would make all the Recreants completely forget about the crowd of Alchemists that had gathered outside Saint John the Baptist’s Church.

By the time the villagers recovered from the Extraction Conversion which removed the past fifteen minutes from their memories, Fanella and Nicholas had vanished without a trace.

Halfway around the world, Althea Presten woke up. It was her fourteenth birthday, and she had high expectations for a fantastic day to celebrate the White Walls coming down. She’d easily surmised that her parents had a big surprise for her, but though she had made guesses all the previous day, she couldn’t predict what the day would bring. Her mother had merely put her to bed with a gentle smile and a promise that she was in for a fantastic surprise.