All books start in the same predictable ways: exposition, action sequence, or even the ‘Hello my name is-‘ lines. All these trying to get you invested in hundreds of pages worth of text about places that don't even exist beyond the leather bound covers. Griff wanted to read every last one of them. That is, if the world would just let him.
Instead, he was currently hunting for a book on Ancient Evoking Circles. His current Master Bisset was working on creating self-repairing clothing. Not to help those too poor to afford a new tunic, heavens no; individuals granted the Divine Blessing by the Gods were to not to squander their magic in such a way. That’s what the Academy drilled into all Alchemists who crossed its threshold.
Close to the French capital, there was a research facility that only went by the moniker The Academy. On the outside citizens were told children accepted into The Academy were taught to hone their Divine Blessing to help mankind as a whole. Though most parents cared little for the official story, which many suspected to be fabricated, they children up quickly enough when gold came into play. Once the children got inside is when the true nature of The Academy showed itself. Children were ushered through a series of tests to see where they would be most useful to the Masters. If a student was deemed useful enough, they would then be assigned a Master to serve; There they would be taught what the Master wished and nothing more. Students deemed too dull to be properly taught were often used as test subjects for the Masters’ experiments.
Joa was Master Bisset’s current victim. She always seemed to have a faraway expression on her face. Now along with her blank expression, she had a patch of tunic fused to her cheek. Not wanting to end up like Joa, Griff racked his brain trying to remember where to find the text exploring the finer points of evoking magic. Opening up the door to the library, he took a deep breath as the scent of parchment and papers filled his nose. Compared to the firelight from the basement, the sunlight was almost blinding in the library. On still days like today, he could even see little specks of dust floating in the air.
The librarian jerked awake when Griff entered only make an annoyed noise as he peered nearsightedly down his nose at the boy. He was quite familiar with Griff’s presence and knew the young man did not need his help. Ignoring the old man who had instantly returned to his nap, Griff mentally went over the layout of the shelves. Since there was a lot of overlap in the different subjects, finding exactly what you were looking for tended to be an adventure in itself. Not that Griff minded. With a small smile he allowed his fingers to tap the edges of the bookshelves as he passed. His father used to do that to him when he was younger. Finding the section that seemed most relevant he grabbed a scroll that he thought might need he unfurled it to take a peek.
Clothing weaved with specially dye threads-
“There he is.” A bored voice cut through Griff’s concentration on the text. Disoriented, Griff looked around to spot the Librarian pointing at him. Standing next to the old man was Master Bisset looking furious. This was not the first time his master had to go looking for him. Before Griff had a chance to form an apology, he was dragged out of the library by his arm. The entire time Master Bisset berated everything from his intellect right down to his long unkempt brown hair that reminded him of a horse’s backside. Griff didn’t utter a word in his defense. He recognized the route to the High Council’s chamber and knew that if his master had already decided to dismiss him that fighting it would only bring more trouble. The High Council handled all issues in The Academy personally and this would Griff’s third time in front of them to be reassigned. Master and apprentice did not make it that far today though, descending the stairs from the upper lab area, they ran across one of the council members. Today the man looked more irritated than usual, and that was quite the feat.
“Master Bisset.” The council member greeted completely ignoring Griff.
“Councilman Gerome. I have an apprentice that does not meet the standards I have for my research.” Master Bisset stated flatly. The older man’s eyes narrowed as he recognized Griff from his previous reassigning. Every aspect of The Academy down to assigning apprentices was brought in front of the Council. What else Griff thought was a little strange was the fact that even the kitchen staff was former apprentices. A boy would was brought in at the same time as Griff was eventually sent down to tend the gardens rather than being allowed to go back to his parent’s farm.
“You again. Seems you haven’t learned from last time.” The council member was referring to his last Master who saw it fit to have Griff flogged before dismissing him. It wasn’t Griff’s fault the literature on Damascus steel was more interesting than learning to etch symbols on swords.
“I have no use for him. I already have one dull apprentice, I don’t need another.” Master Bisset complained, shoving Griff away. With that statement, the man turned on his heel, leaving Griff at the council member’s mercy.
“I don’t have time for this.” The man grumbled looking at Griff with disdain. “Just…go work in the library for now.” The man gave a half-hearted wave in that general direction, his mind clearly elsewhere.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Really?” Griff asked sounded far too excited considering this assignment was supposed to be a punishment. The councilman waved him away before walking off down the hallway. Not questioning it further in case the man changed his mind, Griff headed back to the library, barely able to keep himself from running.
---
The old librarian should have been happy about having a young body to send up the rickety ladders. Instead the old man was treating Griff like a long lost relative he was just saddled with.
“So here how this is going to work, you sort what I tell you, when I tell you-” The old man paused to allow Griff to nod in understanding. “And then you can read whatever you want. Now go on.” The old man motioned to a pile of scrolls on one of the many tables. For once, Griff happily performed his duty.
+++
Nicholas Flamel watched one of the High Council members herd the newest group of apprentices down to the testing area. A rather large group this time, two girls and three boys. All from poor areas, it seemed, judging off of their torn, dirty clothing. One of the girls didn’t even have shoes. After a quick bath and some new clothes, they’d look just like the rest though. Nick grinned to himself, maybe one of them would be his apprentice. His excited grin grew at the thought of being a Master with his own lab with an apprentice rather than just being one. It had taken him seven long years to finally get the Council to take him seriously, but finally one of his theorems was being considered.
Just like those students, he had been equal parts excited and scared when he had first set foot in The Academy. From the outside it looked like a stately manor with large well-kept gardens that stretched all around. Magical and non-magical plants grew over the grounds except for the padlock to the south. Thinking about the now empty stalls made his heart sink. No, he reminded himself, that was a lie, there were animals in those stalls, just not the one Nick wanted.
Ever since the prince had come there had been a shift at The Academy. First, the Kirin was replaced by war horses. Just thinking about the ethereal Chinese unicorn made him even angrier they replaced it with boring horses. It had a long mane that had flowers growing from it and its horn that resembled a tree branch. Griff longed to to feel the scales growing on its back to see if they were stiff like a crocodile or soft like a snake’s. Now he will never know. His thoughts were interrupted by a voice further down the hall.
“Monsieur Flamel,” Came the voice of his master behind him. Looking over his, shoulder Nicholas saw Master Pelletier descending from the upper labs. In keeping with the manor-like design, The Academy boasted three spacious floors. The topmost floor was reserved for the upper laboratories. Massive windows provided abundant natural light for the Alchemists talented enough or lucky enough to secure a lab up there. That’s where Nick’s master worked, the bright sunlight was ideal for working with the exacting science of apothecary. It was Nick’s dream to secure a lab amongst these most prestigious of Alchemists.
Assuming his master had just returned from the dining area on the main floor and hoping that a full stomach would help his Master’s mood, Nick gathered up his courage and returned the greeting, determined to get the elusive man to give feedback on his proposal.
“Master Pelletier,” He greeted nodding his head as a sign of respect. Master Pelletier kept his smile as he returned the greeting. “Have you had a chance to assess my theorem?”
Master Pelletier’s smile faded, causing Nick’s heart to sink.
“I have.” The master kept walking past Nick as he headed back up towards the upper labs. “As much as I admire your enthusiasm, The Academy is not looking for a new theorem to place their resources into at this time.”
“But Master, if my theory is correct it would fix that very problem. See, I theorized that dragon’s stomachs-“ Nick tried to keep pace the best he could whilst keeping a respectful distance behind his master.
“I know, Nicholas.” Nick clenched his teeth at the tone, both resigned and patronizing all at once. The two walked in tense silence until Nick noticed that Master Pelletier kept going past his door. Afraid to upset his master further however, he kept his tongue.
“Do you enjoy working as an apothecary?” Master Pelletier asked suddenly, still looking forward. Fearing his Master was displeased with him for asking for a lab of his own, Nick quickly assured Master Pelletier that he loved his work.
“Good. Your skills will come in handy where you’ll be going.” Master Pelletier stated bluntly. The man stopped in front of the last door giving a loud rap with his knuckles. Before Nick could as ask any questions, the door was flung open to reveal a man roughly his own age, a rarity on this floor.
“Master LaMonte, this is Nicholas Flamel, Your new apothecary.” With that brief introduction, Master Pelletier gave the two a brisk nod before walking back towards his own lab. Sometimes he hated being right, Nick thought to himself as his heart sunk to somewhere near his boot soles, he was in trouble and this was his punishment.
***
“We’ll have to sort out your sleeping situation.” The librarian croaked startling Griff from his reading.
“What do you mean?” Griff asked noticing the keys in the librarian’s hand.
“You’re under my supervision as of now, so your wellbeing is my responsibility.” Judging by the look on the old man’s face he hated every word in that sentence. “That means you’ll do what I say. Now move it.” The old man hobbled a few steps before barking, “And no books in your room!”
Grumbling, Griff placed the book on a nearby table to come back to the next day. Griff waited for the old man to fumble with the key to lock the huge double doors to the library in silence. Feeling uncertain, he choose to walk at much slower pace than he usually would, so as to always be just behind the crotchety old man.
“I have few rules, but I expect you to follow them explicitly.” The old man began to say leading Griff towards their next destination. “First of all, I am your new Master. I am as good of an alchemist as any of your former Masters. You will be taught how to transcribe books as well as repair them, in some cases from almost nothing. No matter how you were treated by your former master all acts of sabotage will be met with instant dismissal.” The old man stopped walking to face Griff fully. “If you can’t follow these simple rules the only work you can get will be in the kitchens. Do I make myself clear?” Griff nodded clearly not trusting his mouth. Narrowing his eyes his new ‘Master’ seemed displeased with his new charge’s attitude.
“Do you know what the drawback of the Gallagher Principle is?” They didn’t even know each other’s names (neither man cared to ask) and the old man was already trying to trip him up. Smiling slightly, Griff answered without missing a beat,
“If the original author used any unknown inks, such as gold leaf, they will be removed along with the other stains.” The old man blinked hard at Griff before he gave a large toothy smile.
“This might not be so terrible after all, you got a name?”