Grotknot went to the corner of the chamber room to where his bags sat, dug through them, and pulled out a brown-leathered tome. He waddled over and set it on the table, smirking.
"You know what this is, Laddy?"
Boone examined the tome that was as dusty as the one his Grandpappy had, and thick as a series of books. "Is that an—"
"An alchemy tome...That it is correct." The letters on the book black and gold curved lettering. The lettering of the Order of Ai. "Though this is not the Alchemy Index," He chuckled, "If only we were that lucky."
Boone had heard of the Alchemy Index since he was a boy. A book put together by the Grand Alchelitest — full of spells from every inch of the earth — it was said that the alchemy spell was split into several pieces, then given to the great clans for all to protect.
"And which tome is that?"
"An heir tome… It was given to me from my father who had received it from his father, who received it from his father before him." Grotknot stroked the book gently. "Since I don't have any children this will go to my niece when I'm ready to pass it down."
Boone reached for the book. "And it's full of Alchemys spell — Ouch!" There was a crack; the man's heavy hand falling upon his, slapping him so hard he be bruised for a week. "What was that for?"
"Serves you right!" Grotknot chuckled while looking upon him through furrowed brows. "Your are never to touch an alchemy tome that does not belong to your kin…"
Boone bared his teeth, "and why not?" He whined rubbing the ache from his hand.
"Because it is forbidden since the early days of Alchemy." He gruffed, slowly opening the book. "Unless you are Tome bandit … Are you one of them?"
Boone nose wrinkled. "I'm not certain I know what one of them is." He stretched his neck, trying to look over the mans oversized arm, but the Bork turned showing his back.
"Can't trust your eyes on these spells…" The man grumbled, licking a finger and flipping pages. "Tome Bandits are the worst kind of thieves in all of Civiland — known to hunt for tomes with a long history of alchemy lineage inside — and if you're not careful one will take it from yous in your sleep." He eyed the boy like he was a suspect tome bandit. He pulled the book in closer and Boone crossed his arms, pouting. "Awe! Here it is!"
Boone shrugged and turned towards a corner of the room with nothing interesting in it, not even the old straw broom covered in cobwebs. "Like I care what it is…"
"You should!" Grotknot said. Boone peeked over his shoulder to find two gigantic nut-colored eyes beaming into his own. "This one spell will teach more than a hundred combined." The mans itchy beard touched the boys soft skin and he took a step back. "You best believe it." Grotknot lips raised displaying blackened-yellowish smokers teeth.
Grotknot looked to the Cauldron which was made a rustic metal and was dusty and tattered as the old book. "First what we need is water … hand it here, lad." Grotknot glanced to the book mumbled the text. He then waved a hand in fit which sent Boone kneeling and lifting the bucket. He placed it on the table. Grotknot looked around the room, mumbling. "I must've forgotten my measuring cups...oh, well." He chuckled. "A true Alchemist can do it purely by sight." He winked. He lifted the bucket and soaked the inside of the cauldron. One. Two. Three times. A smaller pour each time. "That about," He poured a bit more, "does it."
Boone began to feel himself eager to participate. "What do you need next?"
"First we need to bring this cauldron to a boil." He lifted the large pot and hung it over the dancing flames. "It'll take a minute … until then I'll prepare the cane."
"And what am I to do?"
"Bring me the bags of yeast, barley, hops, and wheat." He grinned, pointing to the fire place. "You can set them over there."
Boone raised an eyebrow, "I just brought them to the table…"
"And now you can bring them back." He chuckled. "It wouldn't hurt for you to gain a little meat on them bones."
The boy looked to his arms that were even skinny inside his button shirt. He then tipped his fathers hat from his eyes and waved his golden bangs from his face. I am ready for the challenge… He thought, spitting into his hands and rubbing them until he felt like he'd gathered strength. With a grunt he hoisted the bag and walked them back towards to fire. One trip … Two trips … Three trips … by the fourth trip he was wet as a bathing dog, sweating from every hole in his body.
"There!" He threw the last bag on the pile of bags. "As you command, your grace." He gave a half-bow. "Anything else—"
Grotknot whisked a pot of white syrup, grinning. "Here!" He shoved them into his arms. "Keep it whipped, ya hear?"
Boone swore beneath his breath, his muscles screaming as he churned the glue. He brought his nose down and breathed in a sweet, sugary smell that made his tongue salvate. He looked to Grotknot; once the man was distracted pouring bag after bag of green-earthy pebbles and golden-weeds into the pot, the boy reached in and quickly scooped syrup onto the tip of his finger. He looked to the Bork once more who hummed a tune of the miners, while pouring a nutty looking substance into the pot; still distracted. Boone then brought his finger to his mouth, and rolled, wiping his finger clean. His eyes beamed...the taste made his tongue dance; sweeter than nectar and thicker than honey.
He went to grab another fingertip full when the pot was snatched from his hands. "I saw that…" Grotknot muttered. "That one taste of yours could ruin the whole batch."
Boone pouted then gave his finger one last lick … the flavor had gone. "What's the big deal? You're not even measuring —"
"I told you!" Grotknot prodded him with the ladle. "A true Alchemist doesn't need measuring cups, feeders, or meters … A true alchemist is one with the batch…" He poured the sugar into the pot. "And that's it!
"That's it?" Boone hardly believed it. "You mean we're finished?"
"Finished?" The Bork lifted his chin and guffawed so loudly it made the boy cringe. "No, laddy … now we need to wait."
"For how long?"
The man shrugged, "four hours … no more and no less. If any longer than we'll burn the brew ... any shorter and it'll be undercooked." He walked over to the table and rolled on top. "Now If you excuse me … I'm going to take a nap."
Boone yelled, "And what am I supposed to do?"
The man mouth opened wide and he let out a long, low noise. He smacked his lips then said, "what do you think, Lad? You're to watch the brew…" He turned over on his side and was out quicker than a hibernating bear.
Boone kicked the ground then slumped down on the stone floor a few feet from the fire, close enough to stay warm but far enough back from getting scorned.
"Useless, old man … all he taught me was how much weight it takes to make your back ache …" He rubbed his lower back.