Alchemy

Chapter Two: Part 1

"I've just seen a ghost! A spectre!"

Mexwall flicked his eyes over the rim of his text-book to where his best friend, Gillen, stood, quivering in the stone archway of their shared Neophyte bunkroom. Thick brown curls stuck to his forehead with perspiration. He was huffing, holding the arch of the doorway with a skinny hand, the rest of the arm lost in the thin brown cassock of a lower Neophyte. Mexwall grinned, his face hidden by the open book.

"Splendid!" He clapped the book-covers together in mock emphasis. "Did you manage to get a cryscann of it? Definitive proof of the human soul, pure consciousness! we might make the Mage's new assistants, though usually the position goes to one."

"Mex, I'm serious."

"Yes, a discovery this serious - They would have to make an exception for the both of us."

"Okay hang on. That implies I'd let you in on my research!"

"Oh there'd be research now?" Mexwall slid off the bunk to stand, almost a foot taller, in front of Gillen. 

"D'oi. I'd have to immediately establish it's alchemical composition. Subdue it to the basic five warpings. Blah blah. I suppose I'd need an atelier-assist," mused Gillan.

"Indeed? I could stand by you, jott notes, take the occasional cryscann of your breakthroughs."

"I suppose after the warping we'd be made more than just the Arch-Mage's new assistants," chuckled Gillen.

"This is all considering you've got your hands on a sample. Remember, you only saw the ghost, you did not catch it."

Gillan smacked a palm to his forehead. Mexwall had a way of doing this. He delighted in driving discourse off-topic, down some backwater line of inquiry like a mutinous navigator. Gillen knew Mex only did it when he found a conversation particularly inane.

"I'm going to tell you what I saw"

"So! Now I am in on the research!"

"MEX!" Gillen fumed. A few breaths later, "It was Morea, I could not have been mistaken. It was the same face! Same eyes!"

Mexwall wordlessly stepped around Gillen, craned a neck out the stone archway before turning, pulling the ironwood door behind him. "Gil, you know that's sore around here."

Gillen nodded. The chimes of Morea's funeral knell were fresh in his memory. The entire Neophyte body was called to attend. The Arch-mage himself had stood over the proceedings. For the last few days, the college had been a maelstrom of mourning and politics.

"I know. I know," Gil stammered, palms bobbing at his chest. "I'm not trying to disgrace her memory at all... but... well to use a cliche, I saw what I saw!"

Mex rubbed a palm across his prickled chin. 'I saw what I saw' had powerful implications within the higher alchemist community. It was usually uttered to a review panel when some experiment had spewed up wildly unexpected and unbelievable results. It meant: 'I'm willing to stake my name and credit on the outlandish data I present before you.' It meant Gil, at least, was being serious.

"Ok, sorry. Give me the details."

Gillen scrunched his eyes and bent his fingers into a triangular sign at his waist: The glyph of recountments, an alchemist's custom. "Time of day: six booms past noon... or thereabouts. Location: Ferrel Boulevard where it meets The Pits (see notes). Witnesses: Six urchins and some other people -"

"This isn't the most specific of recountments, Gil," Cut in Mexwall. "What would Alchemist Gerhard sa -"

"The sight scrambled me, okay!" Gil gathered himself before proceeding, reforming the fractured hand sign at his waist. "Observation: A senior ranking Copstable of the city guard leading, by means of leather bind, the specter of Morea, who in turn was being followed and provoked by previously mentioned urchins. Notes: The specter of Morea seemed to be in a state of euphoria. The specter of Morea was also clothed in a leather jerkin and not Neophyte robes. Conclusions: It's likely the specter of Morea was under the influence of sczle mucus also... she was in disguise?"