The Alchemist sprawled out on the cold stone plateau. All around, voices spoke.
āLaw, instead of casting judgment on Raccomen and myself, could you judge what in the blazes is wrong with the kingling?ā
The Alchemist turned his head, drawn from his stupor. There, Rook, with markedly bolstered confidence, stared upward at Law as the golden figure knelt down. An army of Justiciars approached. The Stormfield was dying, so they had no need to protect the army any longer.
āI will not forget this deception. But for now, I will put it aside.ā Law split his body apart, and his golden aura enveloped his champion. āErlebnis is dead. He cast no magic before he wentāI sensed only the faintest tingle of his divinity. Yetā¦ā
The Alchemist began to make sense of what had happened. The Ravenstone had been forged out of Erlebnisā Blessing of Supersession, long ago. With the god himself perished, the Ravenstone broke, sending him out of its protection. Fortunately, the battle was over. The Alchemist, still a husk, slowly gathered himself. He reformed his body that he might stand, and rose.
Argrave had fallen to his knees. He stared upward at the sky, unblinking as he tremored. His eyes were spasming, alongside faint twitches in his fingers. Feeling some urgency, the Alchemist approached.
āStand aside,ā he ordered Law, whose aura prevented his further approach. āI will examine him.ā
The gods regarded the Alchemist with some distaste, but they knew better than to argue. All of them were familiar with the Alchemistās expertise and his constant presence in Argraveās company. They watched as his gray eyes glowed green, scrutinizing Argrave. Of every human, the Alchemist knew Argraveās form the best of anyāhe had performed countless operations on the man, and had spent weeks deconstructing his body. Heād even wrote books on the subject. Naturally, he could tell when something was wrong.
The Alchemist quickly identified several odditiesāfever, sweating, confusion, and a seizure. Beyond the skin and bone, he caught an alarming factor immediately. āHe has slight encephalitisā¦ but that isnāt something I can simply ignore.ā
āEncephalitis?ā Raccomen repeated.
āHis brain is swollen. Itāsā¦ā the Alchemist trailed off as he scrutinized the brain closer. He grabbed Argraveās head, his fingers stretching around and piercing the skin subtly so as to see beyond. It wasnāt merely swollenāit was virtually on fire, a hub of activity. Given the circumstances, he quickly came to a conclusion about what was happening. āItās adjusting to knowledge that Erlebnis bestowed.ā
All the deities present said no moreāfrom what Erlebnis had said, they could guess as much.
āOne of the things that Erlebnis traded ināknowledge,ā Rook walked forward to stand near Argrave, peering down at him as his gray eyes twitched. āAnytime he wanted to, he could bestow knowledge. Only really did when it was part of some deal, or when he stood to benefitāthe man hoarded it jealously. Soā¦ what, he gave Argrave a load of faulty knowledge, jammed his brain? Is it an attack?ā
āIt shouldnāt kill him. Long-term, he might even be normal. But in the shortā¦ his brain is working on overdrive not to shatter. And even once it settles, Argraveās mind could be forever changed. It might need to get rid of some things to make room for the new. One human mind wasnāt made to handle the knowledge of many millennia.ā
āYouāre saying he could forget some things?ā Raccomen questioned seriously.
āYes. Memories. Lessons. Habits. Languages. Motor skills.ā The Alchemist looked around. āSomething needs to be done. Quickly. I intend to do that, and you will protect me as I do.ā
āSataistador is still around.ā Rook pointed at the Alchemist. āEven if we have the Stormfield, I think itās abundantly clear the god of war had other plans. We canāt stay here, guarding a lone king. We have to think of the Blackgard Union.ā
āHeās right.ā Raccomen crossed his arms. āSataistador remains the threat. We must move to confront this threat.ā
āArgrave is the Blackgard Union,ā the Alchemist said coldly.
Rook and Raccomen looked ready to argue, but Lawās voice sounded out. āI will protect my champion.ā
āGood,ā the Alchemist nodded simply, then turned to Argrave. He scrutinized the King of Vasquer, studying his face and the brain within in great detail.
Apparently, it had taken a while. Rook and Raccomen disappeared long ago, but eventually Law asked, āWhat do you intend to do?ā
āMeld my mind with his,ā the Alchemist said. āIt can handle more of a burden than his.ā
āIs that safe?ā Law asked, concerned.
āI donāt know.ā The Alchemist looked into Argraveās eyes, adjusting his head. āIāve never done it before. Every attempt nearly broke me.ā
āYet you intend to try it now.ā
āYouāve heard the alternative.ā The Alchemist pulled out the scalpel Argrave had given him years prior, bringing it forth to the manās face. āBest have your Justiciars shield us. This wonāt be a pleasant view for his army.ā
The Alchemist cut into Argraveās face, starting just below the chin. He stuck the blade deep, deep. Once it was at its deepest, the Alchemist began to turn it counterclockwise. The blade zipped through, rising up the jaw, past the ear, around the top of the head, then back down. Having cut a perfect circle, the Alchemist grasped Argraveās face and pulled lightly. All of it came free, revealing the brain within. The Alchemist carved away a few more hanging bits, then set aside Argraveās face.
āPerhaps he should haveāā Law began.
āShut up,ā the Alchemist interrupted the ancient god. āI need to concentrate.ā
The Alchemist slowly reached one hand of many toward Argraveās spongy brain. He rested his fingers atop itā¦ and then slowly began to sink in, as though pushing through water. Unpleasant squelching noises filled the air. The Alchemist took a deep, deep breath once his hand was far inside, then began to interface with Argraveās mind.
At once, a torrent of overwhelming power fell upon him. Not knowledgeāthe Alchemist could handle that. One of the reasons he had long avoiding directly touching anotherās mind was related to the Smiling Raven. To escape that beast, he had cut away parts of himself. And those partsā¦ those human parts, that led him to commit the single largest act of genocide in historyā¦
They all came rushing back, as he joined with a mind that still had what the Alchemist had lost.
Argrave felt like he was wandering for a very long time. He walked across a desert of white sand, and at the end of it all, an empire of dead children smiled down on him like blinking stars. But before this long journey, he was certain he had been doing something else. He had been trying to take somethingā¦ and someone else was stopping him. Names floatedāAnneliese, Fellhorn, Galamon, Melanie, Sataistador, Law, Elenoreā¦ he had vague associations for each of them. Family, ally, enemyā¦ but the wires were crossed, and the currents flowing through them led him nowhere in particular.
He talked to so many people, and they told him so many different things. They asked for something from him, and he gave them something in return. Specifications for a bomb, detailed lineage of a child, the secrets of untold magic, the truth of a loverās affairā¦ all so vague, with enough faces on each of them he started to forget what his own looked like. As a matter of fact, he was having some difficulty remembering his own name. Did it start with a āv,ā or an āa?ā He thought both were true, but it was difficult to work it all out. Perhaps āErlebnisā was his name. That name rung out so often, surely it had to be related to him somehow.
Erlebnis started to scan through all of the things that he saw, recontextualizing much of what was there. If he took this name as his own, things started to make a little more sense. It gave him perception of selfāit gave him a place in these countless knowings, these countless millennia of words and the names born from them. Yet as he did so, he felt them seize up, catch in the gears of the machine. He saw other memories, too, locked away and fragmented. Someone named Argrave, looking up at his father the king. Those felt different. Realer, somehow.
Then, the haze broke. Argrave felt as though heād been pulled up out of the pool heād been drowning in, and clarity that heād lost suddenly returned. He felt sick, broken, batteredā¦ heād been swimming in a pool of thoughts and knowledges not his own, and now something pulled him up from the surface. When he finally remembered how to see, he saw a gray-haired man holding him by the neck.
āRaven?ā Argrave asked.
āYes,ā he said without affect, then clutched his throat and seemed to be in agony. āYeah, itās me. Feeling more yourself?ā
āA littleā¦ what the hell is happening?ā Argrave straightened himself, looking around. He couldnāt even tell if he was standing, if he was doing anything at all.
āErlebnisā gift,ā Raven said. āTried to just take it from you, but it didnāt work. I didnāt move fast enough. This package he sentāitās entwined with your mind now. Everything from your speech, to your muscleās function. I take it, I vegetablize you. We have to sort this out.ā Raven clutched his head, then hunched over. āAt the same time, Iām fighting other things.ā
Argrave had vague memories of this so-called giftāheād received it in a forest, right? Or was it a snowy tundra? Orā¦ the Palace of Heaven?
Reminded, Argrave grabbed Raven as he hunched. āI canāt be here. I have to stop the god of war, Galamon.ā
Raven laughed loudly, then fell to the ground. āYeah? Galamon? Seems weāre two psychos, one mind, sorting out both our damned problems.ā
āWhat do you mean?ā
āWeāve got to fight to keep your head functioningā¦ reasonably well.ā Raven wobbled his hand. āYou might drool a little by the end of this, might have a bit of a bum leg, but I think we can partition your mind enough to preserve its function. And my hope is that, by the end of thisā¦ you can help me make up my mind about a little moral dilemma called potentiation. But letās start at the beginning, and work from thereā¦ which limb could you do without?ā
This š¬ontent is taken from frešwebnove(l).ššØšŗ