“And I say we go out and kill them now!”
“Are you serious? You want to just break into the fucking adventurer’s guild and kill the three most popular people in the city right now?” Stephen jabbed a finger at the cloaked skeleton. “That’s fucking stupid!”
The old lich king leaned back and crossed his bony arms. “What’s stupid is giving your enemy time to gather power. Get them while they’re wide eyed and young!”
Continuing to pace, Stephen pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, and risk the entire city coming down on us. And that’s pretty rich coming from you. I’m not the one who hasn’t left this goddamned crypt in months.”
“So,” the necromancer continued, “what exactly do you suggest? Surely you don’t mean that we should turn a blind eye and leave them completely to their own devices.”
Stephen stopped pacing, turning to face the lich king. “First, we gather intelligence. Track their movements and their connections. Figure out their motives and weaknesses.”
The lich — Tyraleus — nodded slowly. “And then we kill them.”
“Sure. But until then–”
Dorian decided to put his foot down. Stomping his boot forward on the hard stone floor, he cut off the discussion with a vicious slash of his hand. “We are not. Killing. Anyone.”
His two fellow cultists glanced at him in surprise. “What do you mean?” Tyraleus rasped. “Surely you can see the threat that these vermin create.”
Running a hand through his hair, the shopkeeper sighed. “I agree that their arrival is problematic — and while I also agree with Stephen’s suggestion that we gather information, I would say that leaping to murder is quite a large and unfounded jump.”
Stephen nodded, and Tyraleus fell silent.
“Now, if the two of you don’t mind, I’d like to explain a little more about the situation and my involvement in it.”
He began to pace. “One of the worldwalkers — Miss Katie McFly — has a gold affinity.”
The old necromancer leaned forward. Dorian got a strong impression as if he were narrowing his eyes — except he wasn’t, his skeletal face had nothing but two empty sockets.
“Remus decided to appoint me as her mentor in alchemy,” the shopkeeper continued. “We begin working together as soon as tomorrow.”
Stephen raised both hands to his head, running them through his pitch black hair, while Tyraleus remained silent. Dorian stopped pacing.
“Needless to say, I am rather apprehensive about the whole situation. However.” He paused and raised a finger. “I think that this will be a perfect opportunity to gather information and assess their motives —” he gestured at Stephen, “as Mister Applewood suggested.”
Leaning against the stone wall, Stephen sucked in a breath between his teeth. “Well, keep your enemy close and all, that, I guess?”
“And then kill them,” the dread lich added.
Clapping his hands together, the shopkeeper glanced between his two comrades. “Well, now that we have that sorted, I’d also like to announce that I plan to travel to Hockenfiel soon to test my patronage in combat.”
While the former adventurer was over level eighty in total, his Abyssal Cultist patronage was only level ten — and he was rather eager to not only level it further, but to see just what it could do.
Granted, achieving level ten in only a few months — while having to conceal his activities — was still an impressive feat to be sure. It also had the benefit of increasing his total level, raising the cap for all of his skills as well as granting him new passives.
“That is a reasonable course of action,” Tyraleus commented. “Dungeons truly are an invaluable resource for training — that much is surely made clear from Nordon’s victory during the Founding War.”
Scoffing, Stephen stood up straight from his previous position leaning against the wall. “Are you seriously going to go on about Preston’s folly again? I swear, if you keep insisting that your analysis is correct while refusing to produce any sources, I will —”
“You want sources?” The necromancer interrupted. “I am the source. I was there.”
Dorian rolled his eyes as the conversation rapidly devolved into an argument about the history of the kingdom. It was one of the first things they discussed upon meeting — Dorian had even had to activate his control over the remains of the old lich to prevent him from attacking the young accountant.
It was rather fortunate that he was the one to unearth the Dread Lich King’s remains and not some unscrupulous villain.
----------------------------------------
The next morning, Dorian found his new apprentice outside the nearest temple. The pristine, white stone structure gleamed in the shallow early morning light.
The shopkeeper had just come from a nearby cafe where he had eaten breakfast with Remus. The two men had first discussed the upcoming mid year celebration of the fall equinox — and then the conversation had turned to the arrival of the new worldwalkers.
Dorian had been heartened to learn that Katie had been a student of some manner of alchemy in her original world, and that Remus seemed to have a good initial impression of her.
“They’re very pretty.”
Following her gaze, Dorian surveyed the collection of small stone shrines in the small earthen yard beside the steps up to the temple entrance. Each shrine consisted of a small stone statue atop a wide base with an engraved metal plaque.
Most of the shrines had a small variety of offerings arrayed at their feet.
“Pardon my curiosity,” the shopkeeper began, “but who is your patron?”
Along with ten free starting levels and a mythical affinity, every worldwalker arrived with a patronage from whichever god had selected them.
“Hethaea,” the young woman — Katie — replied, flicking her eyes to a statue of a proud, sturdy woman armed with a hammer and straightedge — the goddess of craft. “Should I leave something for her?”
Dorian shrugged. “If you want to. But honestly, the gods don’t really care if you do or don’t leave them offerings.”
Tilting her head, Katie gave him a puzzled look. “What’s the point then?”
Dorian took his hands out of his coat pockets and gestured vaguely at the assorted statuary. “It’s common knowledge that the shrines are completely mundane — they’re just pretty rocks.” He paused, dropping his hands to his side. “They’re really for our benefit, not the gods.”
He then pointed at one of the central figures — a handsome, curly haired man holding a book and a pen. “Take Mariono.” Dorian indicated the candles and black flowers — the same variety he had brought to his sister’s grave — at the statue’s feet. “I don’t think the king of the gods much cares about a few candles and witherblooms.”
Rubbing his chin, he continued. “No, I think he cares much more about something else — the thoughts and deeds written in the souls of all of the mortals that arrive to his domain. I think he cares much more about people themselves than that they walked by a florist’s shop while thinking about him.”
In truth, the shopkeeper doubted that was the entire picture. No, he suspected the gods did care about mortal adoration — but as a way to assert broad societal control, not to receive superficial displays of devotion.
Katie nodded slowly. “That’s… interesting.” She looked deep in thought. “It’s funny, I wouldn’t expect a god known as the ‘Worker of Death’ to be the head of the pantheon.”
Dorian frowned. Katie’s understanding of Mariono was in line with a common misconception that misinterpreted the king of the god’s true domain. No, while the title ‘worker of death’ was properly intimidating, the shopkeeper found the original title, translated directly from the elder tongue, to be infinitely more terrifying: Artist of Souls.
After a moment of silence, Dorian changed subjects. “Remus — Mister Harken — told me that you were formerly a student in alchemy.”
“Uh, yeah, that’s right. I wasn’t super far in my studies though.”
That was still good enough for Dorian. The alchemist was happy that he would — he hoped — have something to work with instead of having to start from the very beginning.
“What does your schedule look like for today? Mister Harken also said that he’d like for you to start your apprenticeship as soon as possible.”
Stepping away from the shrines, Katie turned to face him. “Yeah, they want me to start as soon as possible. The clerk at the adventurer’s guild told me that they would send a messenger for you to come pick me up so that we could start working out the details of my apprenticeship.”
“Well, I’m here now,” Dorian replied, “so what do you say we go straight back to my shop?” He paused and scratched his head. “I’m sure the past day has been quite eventful for you, though, so if you’d like some more time to get acclimated, that’s perfectly fine.”
He meant it. Not only would delaying the apprenticeship give him more time to evaluate his own options, but it really must be quite alarming to suddenly be summoned by a god for a mission in a completely new world.
“No, I think I’m ready,” Katie said. “Might as well start now.”
Sighing, the shopkeeper stuck his hands back in the pockets of his long blue coat and turned around. “Right then, the shop is this way.”
The young woman caught up to him to walk beside him, and the two strolled down the narrow cobbled streets of the mercantile district in silence.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Dorian casually observed the pedestrians passing by, and Katie seemed to be studying, well, everything — from the people to the visible merchandise to the city architecture.
After a few minutes, Katie spoke up as they walked along one of the city’s canals. “Do you know why the system exists?”
Dorian frowned. “Now one explained that to you when you first arrived?” He wasn’t surprised that the concept was foreign to her — as far as he was aware, most worlds didn’t have anything like the system — but he would have expected someone to have explained it already.
“Hethaea explained the very basics of how it works, but not why it exists.”
“Well, the system didn’t always exist,” he explained. “Millenia ago, a group of the most powerful mages worked together to create the system, weaving their magic into the fabric of reality. We now call them the gods.”
“Why did they create it?”
Pursing his lips, the shopkeeper considered his words carefully. “The system is a method of exchanging and increasing magical power. When you use the system, you’re borrowing from the gods’ power — and then part of your own growth is returned later.”
“Huh, so it’s like magic investing.”
“You can think of it that way.”
A gentle breeze picked up, tugging at Dorian’s coat and blowing back Katie’s long blonde hair. She brushed a strand out of her eyes.
“So how does magic work?”
Dorian blinked in confusion. “Did your world not have magic?”
Katie shook her head. “No — or at least, we only talked about it as a concept.”
Fascinating. So her world had been completely mundane. “That must have been difficult,” he said, “it’s hard for me to imagine how a society with no magic would develop…”
As the pair neared the shop, Katie explained some of the basics of her world. The shopkeeper found it quite intriguing — it seemed that despite lacking magic entirely, her world’s people had still achieved impressive feats. He supposed it was the nature of people to adapt and overcome.
They reached the shop, and Dorian waved to his handyman, Grant, as they passed by the stables where his carriage was parked. The aging man waved back with a cheery smile.
“To clarify,” he continued, returning his attention to Katie, “you mean the moon, like the moon in the sky?”
Katie laughed. “Yep! But we only sent twelve people total, and it turns out there wasn’t much up there other than rocks.”
Stepping up to the door, he pulled it open and allowed Katie to enter. The pair were immediately greeted by a lively din of conversation — as Dorian stepped across the threshold, he saw that the shop was downright bustling with customers.
Glancing to the counter, he caught sight of Stella waiting on a short line at the register. The young, raven haired woman gave a false, pained smile as she greeted the next customer.
Dorian’s smile was genuine. It appeared to be a good day for business, if not a good day for Stella. Having worked retail himself the day before, he didn’t envy her position.
As she finished ringing up the last customer in line, Dorian brought Katie up to the counter to see her. “Good morning, Ms. Spears,” he greeted Stella, “I see we’re rather busy today.”
She rolled her eyes and raised one hand to her forehead, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, you could say that.”
Dorian glanced around. None of the other customers browsing his merchandise were waiting in line yet. “Well, while you have a minute, I’d like to introduce Ms. Katie McFly Goldenborn — my newest apprentice.”
Katie gave a little smile and a wave, and Stella arched an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t taking on any new apprentices,” she said dryly, “so what changed?”
“Special circumstances. She’s one of our city’s new worldwalkers.”
Katie looked down, and Stella’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Dorian said as he glanced around. A middle aged man was approaching the counter. “We’ll be in my private lab if you or anyone else needs us for anything.”
“It’s nice meeting you, Katie!” Stella called out before turning her attention to her next customer.
Katie waved back as Dorian led her to the back of the shop and into the backrooms. Passing by a storage room on the right and the black metal staircase on the left, he brought her to his personal workshop — a wide, windowless, rectangular stone room.
Activating the enchanted lights, the lab lit up with a warm glow.
The walls were lined with racks and hooks of materials and equipment — a significant amount of which was glassware, though there were also plenty of tools for other kinds of work — especially for drafting and applying enchantments.
A large coldfire furnace sat embedded in the back wall, an industrial monstrosity of pipes and steel machinery. The ceiling was ventilated — while the room was in the middle of the first floor and there were subsequently no windows, enchanted air ducts could carry rapid amounts of air between the workshop and vents on the rooftop.
In the very center of the room stood a large, heavyset lab table.
Katie stood at the entrance, scanning the space with a critical eye. Dorian appraised her carefully — she seemed to recognize much of the equipment, though that was just how he read her expression.
“So, how do we begin?” She asked after a moment.
Walking over to a lone filing cabinet, Dorian retrieved a slim sheaf of papers and handed it to Katie. “We’re going to make a mana potion,” he told his new apprentice. “There’s a lot of groundwork we’ll have to cover in many different areas, but I typically like to get people started with a simple, hands on success.”
Taking the papers, Katie nodded. “What are these?”
“Page eight has the prerequisites and the procedure for our primitive mana potion,” the alchemist replied. “Wait, I forgot to ask, can you read?”
“Yes,” she replied confidently, “Nordian, the Elder Tongue, and my native language English.”
Dorian nodded once. “Good to hear. You can take a seat at the table here. Let me know when you’re finished — but no need to rush.”
Doing as instructed, the young woman took a seat at one of the metal stools, and Dorian took a seat across from her — he considered retrieving one of his unfinished enchantment sketches from the cabinet to work on, but decided to simply wait instead. It shouldn’t take her long.
After a few minutes, Katie looked up.
“Are you ready?” He asked.
She licked her lips. “I think so? It’s basically just boiling salt water with the system involved…”
Dorian tilted his head. “So now that you understand the procedure, how do you think we should begin?”
Katie frowned. “Well, the reading didn’t mention it, but I was actually wondering about safety procedures. I mean, I know it’s just salt water, but…” She faltered as Dorian stared at her in shock. “I mean, I just thought…”
Regaining his composure, the alchemist grinned. ’“No one has ever thought about safety on their first day — and that is exactly what I want to hear.”
Dorian usually had to drill the importance of adhering to strict safety practices into a new apprentice’s thick skull — but this time it appeared that someone in another world had already done his work for him.
Even if it were because she had already studied some alchemy — a purely mundane version, but alchemy nonetheless — Dorian was heartened by how things were going so far. His opinion of the young worldwalker was rapidly rising.
Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad.
“Aprons are on that hook,” he said, gesturing towards the back corner, “and gloves and goggles are in the nearest drawer.”
Standing up, he followed Katie over to the aprons. After she had taken one, he did likewise, replacing his own coat with it. Next, he followed her over to the drawer, where she was skeptically examining a pair of goggles.
“Are you worried about the fact that they’re glass?” She nodded. “Don’t worry about that. The glass is specially formulated, tempered, and enchanted to withstand extreme stress from heat, corrosion, and impacts.” He chuckled. “If something manages to break those, you have bigger problems than a shard of glass in your eye.”
Katie accepted his answer, slipping on the goggles and tightening the straps, before putting on the gloves. She then stepped back, and Dorian put on his own equipment.
“Alright,” she said, “are you ready?”
“Ready if you are.”
“Where’s the salt?” Dorian indicated the container. “Oh, and I forgot to ask — what is ‘pure water?’ I assume it means uh — I’d call it distilled water — but water that has as little mineral content as possible?”
“Yes, that’s correct — you can find it in that pump tank.”
Thanking him, Katie retrieved a small glass beaker from one of the shelves of glassware and carefully measured water from the pump into it, before bringing it over to the table.
“You already have the burner set up,” she observed. “At least I think it is?”
Dorian nodded. He had prepared it late the night before, after he had returned from his cult meeting. “You can set the beaker there, and I’ll activate it.”
Katie did as instructed, and Dorian activated [Elemental Manipulation], pumping the crystal at the base with fire essence. A pale blue flame sputtered forth.
It didn’t take long for the water to come to a boil, and Katie carefully added a precisely measured quantity of salt to the beaker while swirling the glass stir rod.
Once the salt was fully dissolved, Dorian flicked off the burner. “You can activate [Alchemical Manipulation] now. It should be one of the skills that automatically comes with your class.”
“It is,” Katie confirmed.
“Alright, just target the solution and put in six points of mana,” he instructed.
A look of concentration crossed his apprentice’s face, and a second later, the beaker took on a faint cyan glow. Her eyes widened in delight, and she clapped her hands together. “Holy shit,” she whispered. “I just used magic.”
Dorian chuckled. “Yes, you did. Congratulations, you can call yourself an alchemist in more than just class now.” He paused and rubbed his chin. “I’ll go ahead and cool it.” Activating [Elemental Manipulation] again, he used ice this time — his own affinity — and rapidly cooled the shining solution to slightly below the ambient temperature of the room.
“Alright, now use [Identify] on it — the alchemist class should let you see some basic information.”
Activating the skill himself, the shopkeeper analyzed the potion.
Superior Primitive Mana Potion
Restores up to 5 mana.
Potency: 99.234% (-0.084% /s)
Additional Properties:
“It says it’s a ‘superior primitive mana potion’ and that it’s at ninety nine percent potency,” she replied, “though it also says it’s worth five mana, not six?”
For a moment, Dorian was surprised — how could she see the potency? However, he immediately remembered that all worldwalkers received ten free starting levels — which would increase the power of her use of [Identify].
“It’s only worth five points of mana because some of the mana you put into it was wasted,” he explained. “Saline water is a poor potion base — it works, yes, but it’s far from optimal. On top of that, it’s your first time using an unleveled skill.” He shifted his gaze from the potion back to his apprentice. “Do you want to try drinking it?”
Tilting her head, Katie blinked. “Uh sure? It’s safe, right?”
Dorian scoffed. “Yes, it’s safe.” Moving away from the table, he retrieved a medium sized potion vial. “But pour it into this first. We never drink from labware. It’s an important precaution that you’ll need to make a habit of.”
Nodding, Katie took the vial in one hand and the beaker in the other. After carefully walking over to the sink, she poured the potion from the latter into the former.
“I’d suggest you open your status before you drink it and watch how it changes.”
On a whim, the master alchemist opened his own status.
Dorian Skeil Winterborn
Human 82
[Coldfire Alchemist 86] [Enchanter 78] [Elemental Summoner 72]
[PATRONAGE: Abyssal Cultist 10]
Fabled Ice Affinity
Skills:
Passive:
His attention returned to the present upon hearing Katie gag.
“Blegh!” She instinctively wiped her mouth with her glove. “That was awful!”
Closing his status, Dorian chuckled. “Pretty salty, right? And it stings a little?”
The young worldwalker glared at him. “A little, yeah.”
“Right,” the shopkeeper announced, clapping his gloved hands together. “And now we clean up.” he rolled his eyes at Katie’s dramatic sigh. “Oh come on, it won’t take but a minute.”
It took two minutes for her to clean and organize to his satisfaction — he had kept an eye on the clock dial — a purely mechanical design of his own — above the doorway. Once she was finished, he said that she could return to the guild for the remainder of the day — at which point, she asked him about demonstrating a product of her own.
“It’s edible,” she explained, “and not a potion. Just a drink.”
Shrugging, the shopkeeper stood from his stool and retrieved his coat from the hook. “Sure, why not. Let’s head to the shop — we keep most of the proper food ingredients behind the serving counter.”
Scanning the shop as they emerged from the backrooms, Dorian observed that the crowd seemed to have thinned out — such that Stella was currently unoccupied and engaged in a conversation with his apprentice in enchanting, Tyler.
“Oh hey!” Stella waved them over. “I was just telling Tyler that you managed to snag one of the new worldwalkers — Miss Katie over there — as an apprentice!”
Dorian gave the pair of young adults a tight smile. “Yes, that I did.”
Tyler strode forward and offered Katie his hand, which she politely took, giving the apprentice enchanter a firm shake. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss…”
“McFly,” she supplied.
“I’m one of Lord Skeil’s other apprentices,” he explained, “so I suppose I’ll be seeing you around quite often now.”
He released her hand, and Stella approached as well. “Oh, out of plain curiosity,” the raven haired young woman began, “do you know what your mission is?” She licked her lips. “Sorry if that’s impolite or something, I just know that worldwalkers are usually selected with some sort of grand quest in mind.”
Katie shuffled about on her feet nervously. She glanced between the group. “Uh, I haven’t actually told anyone else, but as far as I know, it’s fine, so…”
Stella and Tyler leaned forward in interest, and Dorian narrowed his eyes.
“Hethaea said we were chosen to stop a hidden group of people who are trying to bring about the end of the world.”