Chapter Three: The Alchemist's First Step
The dim glow of a candle flickered across the wooden walls of Alexei's small home. Bundles of dried herbs hung from the ceiling, their earthy scent mixing with the faint metallic tang of crushed minerals. Outside, the wind howled through the Yablonoi Mountains, carrying with it the crisp bite of an approaching winter.
Alexei sat cross-legged on the floor, his worktable covered in mortar, pestle, and an assortment of freshly gathered plants. His heart pounded in anticipation.
For a year, he had tested his growing connection to the strange energy within him. He had studied every pulse of warmth in his chest, every cool current that ran through his lungs, every strange shift in his blood. If this truly was Qi—the force that the outside world had begun to whisper about—then surely, it could do more than strengthen his body. It could refine. It could transform.
Tonight, he would prove it.
He selected a handful of herbs, each chosen for their medicinal and alchemical properties. Boreal Ginseng to nourish the blood, Nightshade Root for controlled toxicity, and a dried sliver of Silver Pine Bark to stabilize the mixture. Carefully, he ground them together in his mortar, reducing them to a fine powder.
Closing his eyes, Alexei reached inward. The Qi within him stirred—like embers in a fire, it responded to his will. Slowly, he directed it downward, toward his hands, guiding it into the powdered herbs.
A faint glow emerged, hovering above the mixture like a mist of dim green light. His breath caught in his throat.
Then, just as quickly as it appeared, the glow scattered, dissolving into the air like smoke in the wind.
He frowned. Again.
He repeated the process, each time adjusting his control—forcing it in with brute strength, coaxing it in gently, trying to circulate it before contact. But each attempt ended the same way. The Qi refused to integrate, dissipating before it could leave any lasting change.
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Minutes turned to hours. His oil lamp flickered low, the exhaustion creeping into his bones. Yet, he refused to stop.
Was he missing something? Cultivation techniques were now common for most of the world, but here, in this remote village, he had only intuition to rely on.
He leaned back, rubbing his temples. Then, his gaze drifted to the herbs. To their fibers, their cells, their essence. His Qi was foreign to them. It needed to become a part of them, not simply sit on top.
Taking a deep breath, Alexei tried again. But this time, instead of forcing the Qi into the mixture, he let it seep from his fingertips slowly, allowing it to mix with the energy already within the herbs. He visualized the Qi flowing through the plants, merging with their natural properties instead of overriding them.
The green mist appeared again—this time, it didn't dissipate. Instead, it sank into the powder, the faintest shimmer remaining within the mixture.
His pulse quickened. It worked.
Without hesitation, he scooped a small amount onto his tongue and swallowed.
At first, there was nothing. Then…
A force erupted within him, like a whirlpool forming inside him. The Qi around him surged, rushing into his body as if pulled by an invisible thread.
Alexei inhaled sharply.
He closed his eyes, surrendering to the pull. He had read about cultivation, about how Qi was drawn into the body and used to refine the skin—but now, he was experiencing it firsthand. His breath steadied, his heartbeat aligning with the flow of energy. The world around him seemed to hum with unseen vitality.
Time blurred. He wasn't sure if it was minutes or hours, but when he finally opened his eyes, his limbs felt lighter, his mind clearer.
He had cultivated before, but this… this was different. He felt like he was cheating. Cultivators apparently brought a miniscule amount of Qi into their bodies; then they refined their blood. Then they forged their bones and then they purified their viscera. After that they could begin bringing in more and refining their whole body.
At the moment Alexei was not only refining his skin, but also his bones, viscera and Qi.
It felt right to him. It felt like his own unique and natural way of cultivating. It felt similar to when he made mixtures.
Maybe that was why…
Maybe he was born to be a Chemist.