As I strolled through the winding streets of Lunaris, a town in Crete, a bustling city known for its trade in rare artifacts and knowledge, I felt a mixture of excitement and misgivings. The weight of the red stone in my pocket echoed in my hip, a constant reminder of what I had done. The alchemist was a means to an end, but his death was the turning point.
Upon reaching the outskirts of the city, I found a secluded grove whose trees were thick enough to shelter me from prying eyes. The air was still, and the only sound was the rustling of leaves in the light breeze. This was where I had begun my experiments, away from the judgment of the townsfolk and the laws of the land.
I took a deep breath and sat cross-legged on the forest floor, the ring glistening in the sunlight. "What secrets do you keep?" - I whispered to the stone. My mind feverishly ran through the options. I remembered the alchemist's words about the red stone and the power it gives. Would I be able to reproduce it? What would it take to create my own?
I took the ring off my finger and placed it on the stone in front of me. It shimmered, reflecting the light mesmerizingly. - Let's see what you can do," I said, gripping the dagger tightly. My first test involved a small animal, a squirrel that had unwittingly gotten too close. When I made the cut, I felt a surge of energy from the ring. The red stone pulsed, drawing life from the animal and absorbing it into its depths. The life force seemed to be transmitted to the stone. - Unbelievable," I muttered, realizing the potential of what I held in my hands.
But questions still remained. How many souls would I need to create a larger stone? Would the quality of the life taken affect the power bestowed? I was determined to find out.
Deep into my research, I focused on a few key experiments to unlock the stone's capabilities. I began by observing its reaction to various life forms.
Research Experiments:
Interaction with plants: I placed the stone next to various plants, observing how they reacted. Some of them wilted, while others seemed to revitalize, their leaves turning bright green as if filled with energy. I carefully recorded these effects, hoping to see if the stone could enhance or inhibit growth.
Animal tests: I found small animals - several mice and birds - and observed their reaction to the stone. When the stone was brought close to a wounded mouse, I felt a strange energy pulse in the air, and the creature began to slowly recover, as if drawing life from the stone. This was a promising sign that the stone had the potential to manipulate life.
Blood Samples: I took blood from animals and attempted to impregnate it with the essence of the stone. This process was delicate; at first, the blood remained inert. But after several attempts, I found that when the blood came in contact with the stone, it shimmered slightly, indicating a possible connection. I hypothesized that perhaps this stone could sustain life even after death if properly embedded.
After a few days of careful testing, I was ready to leave my temporary shelter. At dawn, the head of the caravan gathered us and announced that we would soon be traveling to Aerugo. As I prepared for the journey ahead, I felt a mixture of anticipation and my mind swarmed with thoughts of the new opportunities that awaited me in this prosperous land known for its agricultural trade and relative peace.
As I was packing my gear, the leader of the caravan approached me. "Wanderer," he said, looking at my gear, ''Are you ready for Aerugo? It is a land of plenty, but you must be careful; they guard their crops and trade routes fiercely."
"I am ready," I replied, feeling a surge of determination. "I have learned much on this journey and hope to gain even more in Aerugo."
"That's good to hear," he nodded. "Just remember that while their fields may be rich, their people are no less perceptive. Keep your wits about you."
With those words, we headed toward the horizon, and the promise of a new beginning led us onward.
The journey to Aerugo was long, the landscape subtly changing as we progressed. The air grew warmer and the scents of fertile land began to fill my senses. Despite these changes, I continued my experiments with the red stone, my thoughts consumed by its potential.
After much deliberation, I decided to test the stone's effects on my own immortal body. I had read in texts that the essence of the stone comes from souls, and I wondered if it could interact with my unique physiology in any meaningful way.
I gripped the stone tightly in my hand, concentrating on the idea of absorption. My thoughts raced as I imagined the stone merging with my very being. Suddenly a searing pain erupted in my hand, spreading in all directions. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Even the loss of limbs had never caused such agony. "What's happening?" I aghast, grabbing my arm as the pain intensified, as if the very foundation of my existence was being tested.
Despair swept over me. In a burst of reckless determination, I snatched up my dagger and quickly severed my arm, watching it fall to the ground with painful delight. To my amazement, the severed part pulsed faintly with the energy of the stone, a soft glow emanating from the severed limb.
Only after a certain amount of time did it begin to disintegrate into dust, the energy fading away as the stone seemed to realize that the connection to my body had been severed. The essence of the stone was not just a catalyst for healing or amplification - it was a link, a bridge between soul and body.
The nature of the stone: I realized that the red stone acted as a conduit, using the life force of the soul to influence the physical form. This was an important discovery; the stone did not create life, but rather manipulated it based on the life force present in it.
Permanent Destruction: The fact that my arm disintegrated when it broke indicated that, although the stone had power, it could not repair or revive what was fundamentally lost. Immortality has its own laws, and the stone could not change that fact. Potential for control: I pondered whether the stone could allow me to manipulate the very essence of my being. If I could control what the stone absorbed, perhaps I could continue experimenting with other life forms.
As I pondered the implications of my experiments, I felt a slight unease. There seemed to be a price to pay for each use of the stone, one that I had yet to fully realize. My ambition might lead me to discover truths that were better left unexplored. As the caravan progressed towards Aerugo, these revelations flashed through my mind. I had to be careful. My thirst for knowledge was insatiable, but knowledge is not something to be rushed to.
As the caravan approached Aerugo, I found myself sinking more and more into my thoughts. The days passed, the landscape changing from hilly terrain to dense forests and finally to open fields dotted with sparse farmhouses. With each passing moment, the anticipation of reaching the town of Meridun grew in me.
As dusk thickened, coloring the sky orange and purple, the caravan stopped. The air was fresh, and the fires began to crackle, awakening to life as everyone prepared for the evening. I sat a little apart from the group, thoughts of the red stone and the possibilities it held in store in my mind.
"Hey, Wanderer! You've been very quiet lately," one of the caravan members, a burly man named Ronan, called out to me as he approached me with a bowl of stew. - Is everything all right?
I forced myself to smile, "I'm trying to grasp the complexities of alchemy."
Ronan grinned, and that hearty laugh seemed to ease the tension. - Ah, the pursuit of knowledge! You've become the village scholar, haven't you? What's so fascinating about that? Just a collection of potions and recipes, if you ask me
- It's more than that," I replied, raising my eyes to meet his gaze. "It's about understanding the very essence of life, how everything can be transformed. It's... deeper."
Another voice interjected into the conversation, "You've been a bit reclusive as it is, don't you think? You should get divorced." It was Mira, an energetic woman with a penchant for telling stories.
I shrugged, "I'm not a very good storyteller. I prefer to listen, to learn. But I'll try to get more involved in the fun. It's just... Sometimes my thoughts wander. It's just that alchemy is a vast sea of knowledge. There's so much I want to explore, and I feel like I'm only touching the surface."
Mira smiled, her enthusiasm was infectious. "Well, when we get to Meridun, you might be able to find a proper library! Who knows what secrets you might uncover?"
"Or get in trouble with the local authorities," Ronan joked, nudging her playfully with his elbow. - What if they think you're some kind of mad scientist?
I couldn't keep from chuckling, though the thought of my experiments made me wonder. "I'll be careful."
As the night thickened and the stars began to twinkle overhead, I watched the flickering light of the campfire dance across their faces. They seemed so carefree, so bright in their camaraderie. As the conversations continued around me, I sank back into myself, contemplating the next steps in my journey. The city of Meridun awaited me, and with it the potential for new knowledge and perhaps even new experiments. I couldn't shake the feeling that my destiny was inextricably tied to alchemy, an endeavor that, while exhilarating, carried with it a burden of responsibility that I was only beginning to understand.
Upon reaching the town of Meridun, I was immediately struck by its understated charm. The streets, though simple, were well-maintained, with rustic houses decorated with colorful plants native to the region. The market stalls were crowded, with vendors selling their wares and children playing in the narrow alleys. But my thoughts were far away, I was consumed with the quest for knowledge.
My first target was the local library. Unlike the larger cities where knowledge was free, Meridun's library was modest, housed in a large stone building in the center of town. The librarian, a shrewd old man with shrewd eyes, demanded a couple coins for admission. I complied and handed over the money without hesitation. Knowledge was more precious to me than coins. Inside I was greeted by the smell of old paper.
The library was small, but there were enough volumes on alchemy to keep me interested. After a few hours of browsing, I approached the librarian again and paid him a few more coins to reveal the "unwritten knowledge" he said he possessed - information that was not in the books but had been passed down by word of mouth by those well versed in the craft.
"What can you tell me about alchemical circles?" I asked, eager for new discoveries.
The librarian squinted and looked at me, as if assessing my worthiness, before he spoke. "Alchemy is a precise art," he began, "and the circle is its foundation. Without the right symbols, it's like trying to read a book without knowing the language. Each symbol represents a force of nature - earth, air, fire, water - but the more advanced alchemists realize that there are hidden symbols, ancient symbols that govern the very essence of life and death.
"Hidden symbols? You mean the ones that few people know about?"
He nodded, pulling a scrap of parchment from under the table. - These symbols. They are connected to primal energies that can change the very course of life itself. It is said that only those who have crossed the threshold beyond the boundary. truly realize their power."
Я рылся в библиотеке в поисках дополнительной информации, часами изучая свитки и трактаты. Из прочитанного я узнал важный факт: алхимические превращения в значительной степени основаны на принципе эквивалентности, но были и нюансы. The material to be transformed did not always have to have the same value, rather it had to have the same 'essence'. This meant that inanimate objects and living things could theoretically be used interchangeably, although there were warnings about the potential dangers of experimenting with life. I came across a little-known text that discussed the possibility of bypassing the traditional alchemical circle altogether. The book described alchemists who had learned to use their willpower to control transformations, but it was a rare skill that was said to be related to their connection to the forces of nature.
As my thirst for knowledge grew, so did the weight of the dangerous thought that would not leave my mind. Now my research had stalled, not for lack of knowledge, but for lack of real experiments. I had reached a point where theory could not help me get very far. I needed to test my discoveries, to push the boundaries of alchemical transformations. But there was one question I couldn't ignore - was it worth experimenting on living humans?
The red stone pulsed weakly in my pocket, reminding me of its power. If this stone was created from human souls, then I needed to go beyond ethical norms to expand my understanding. I had seen the stone heal, sustain life, and even save someone from death. But if I wanted to recreate such a stone - or improve it - I needed to understand the mechanics of life itself.
Was I ready to cross that line completely?
"Are you seeking knowledge or power?" - I asked myself quietly, looking out the library window as the sun set behind the distant hills. The question hung in the air, and the answer was elusive. It was easy to justify knowledge with the pursuit of truth, but power - power demanded sacrifice. All I needed was the right moment.
I had little money left, even though I had managed to scrape together some income from the sale of a few alchemical notes and treatises I deemed unnecessary. But it wasn't enough. My resources were quickly dwindling, and my ambitions demanded more, both financially and morally. Desperation led me to an idea I had been avoiding for some time. It was time for a real experiment, one that would have to be paid for with flesh and blood.
I spent the last of my coins to buy a slave - a broken man, weak in body and spirit. His figure was haggard and his skin pale, almost transparent in the dim light of the underground marketplace where I found him. His eyes were empty, resigned to whatever fate awaited him. He was not a strong man, but that suited my purposes. I didn't need him to endure; I needed him to break.
The man - no, the object - was about thirty-five years old, though his age was hard to determine, given the malnutrition and years of abuse he had probably endured. His hair was tangled and messy, and his back was covered with scars from lashes. He breathed in short, shallow breaths, as if life itself was slowly leaving him. He spoke little, his voice hoarse, mostly reduced to unintelligible mumbling. He had long ago given up, and this passivity would make my job easier.
"What's your name?" - I asked him more out of formality than necessity.
He blinked slowly, his cracked lips barely moving. - Davy... - He wheezed before his voice trailed off.
It didn't matter. Pretty soon his identity would cease to matter.
I took him to a secluded room on the outskirts of town that I'd rented for the sole purpose of conducting these experiments. It was dark and damp, the perfect place to keep secrets. The first day, I just watched him. His body was frail, barely able to support itself. I knew he wouldn't last long. But that wasn't the point. What mattered was how his body would react to the alchemical transformations - and more importantly, how the red stone would react to him.
I started with simple procedures-using alchemical transformations to heal minor wounds. The stone glowed faintly in my hand, a red aura permeating it like poison. At first, there were no visible effects. His scars remained, and his body was as jagged as before. But as the stone pulsed, I felt a change - a glimmer of life in him that hadn't been there before. His eyes opened wide, and for a moment I thought he felt something - hope, perhaps? No, not hope. Fear.
The next day, I became more daring. I transformed parts of his body, replacing the destroyed tissue with healthy flesh. His muscles twitched and convulsed under the pressure of the transformation, but he still stood strong. I noted with admiration how the red stone seemed to prolong his agony, keeping him alive even as I forced his body beyond its limits. It was both grotesque and mesmerizing to watch the transformation. His pain, his suffering was the price of that knowledge, and I felt no guilt.
- You're... killing me," he muttered between coughing fits, more affirmation than questioning. Blood spurted from his lips.
- No," I corrected him coldly. - I'm giving you a new purpose. You're helping me understand the very nature of life.
But that wasn't entirely true. Life was merely a means to an end. In truth, I was searching for the mystery behind the red stone's ability to control life and death, to manipulate the very essence of the soul.
His body lay on the floor, frazzled and panting, his breathing shallow, his pulse barely discernible. His skin had taken on a sickly gray hue, and his eyelids fluttered, half-closed with the weariness of a man teetering on the brink of death.
It was then that I decided to repeat the experiment I had done with the alchemist. I pulled a red stone from my pocket, its pulsing glow made stronger, perhaps by the agony and suffering it had already caused. I pressed it against the gaping wound in his chest, just as I had with the alchemist, hoping it would fuse with him, save his life, and bind him to the stone.
But something went wrong.
The moment the stone touched his body, he shuddered violently. His limbs twitched uncontrollably and his mouth opened in a soundless scream. His eyes popped out of their orbits as the stone began to pulse, stronger than I had ever seen before. The veins in his neck ballooned, his whole body shaking with spasms. For a moment, I thought it would work-the stone would take him as its vessel.
His body rejected the stone. His convulsions intensified, and a horrible gurgling sound escaped from his throat. His skin blackened and began to crack, as if his very essence was being torn from within. The glow of the red stone became erratic, almost desperate as it tried to merge with his soul, but failed. Eventually, the man collapsed, his body finally giving up. He lay motionless, his mouth contorted in a grimace of pain.
I stared at the lifeless corpse, thoughts swarming in my head. The red stone would not accept him. Why? Had I chosen an incompatible vessel? Or was the problem something else entirely? The stone had kept the alchemist alive, but this slave - no, this subject - had died in agony. Was it because of the properties of his soul? Or had the long torture so damaged him that the stone could not have saved him?
I stood over the body of the slain man, pondering the implications.
It became clear to me that not everyone was suited for the red stone. The stone had its own rules, its own conditions for accepting a host. This experiment showed me the limitations of the stone's power - it could heal and sustain life, but it could not work miracles with a soul that was too weak to endure. Perhaps the number of souls imprisoned in the stone determined its power, or perhaps the quality of those souls also mattered.
More experiments needed to be done.