A grand mahogany table stood at the center of the spacious dining room, carefully arranged with symmetrical precision. Beneath, a plush carpet provided a soft landing for footsteps, while overhead, a shimmering chandelier cast an elegant glow, accentuating the allure of the food.
Daisuke, attired in formal garb, sat poised at the table. Beneath his tailored tailcoat, he wore a crisp shirt and trousers, neatly tucked into tall boots. His knife and fork hovered over the leg quarter of a Horned Rabbit, ready to indulge in the feast before him, when Reginald’s voice called out from across the table.
“Where’s Aprilena?”
There wasn’t a pause in Daisuke’s response. “She’s still a bit shaken up about the whole ordeal.”
“Well, that’s understandable,” Percival replied in a monotone, casting a brief glance at his butler that evidently held meaning. “She’s still just a child, after all. Winston, why don’t you ensure she gets something to eat.”
“Right away, sir.”
Daisuke watched as the butler straightened his bend before disposing himself to the task. Then Reginald began rehashing the tale about the king’s personal request. The narrative continued as they climbed a flight of stairs leading to the man’s study.
A plush couch with a footrest beckoned, accompanied by a wooden table littered with a selection of worn books. It was an intimate space, and Daisuke paid particular attention to the filing cabinets.
Stepping from the study and through a curtain, they entered Reginald’s lab, where alchemical wonders unfolded. A soft, dim light radiated from the crystals that were set in the walls like torches.
Shelves also lined the walls, each laden with an array of vials, flasks, and ancient tomes. The room was infused with the scent of different herbs, chemicals, and powders. An intricately carved wooden desk took center stage, its surface a mosaic of notes, transmutation circles, sketches, and intriguing ingredients in various stages of experimentation.
“After being stripped of our wealth, honor, and prestige—the very pillars that defined the Percival name, my mother left soon after, my sister eloped with her lover, and my father eventually succumbed to his own despair and shame, taking his own life.
I alone remained.
I’ve been working alongside my father long enough to know that his work and research wasn’t in vain. He just didn’t have enough time to perfect it, especially under the constant pressure of the king’s waning life.
But the greedy mongrels at the kingdom didn’t understand that; they readily chastised us after the king passed. Without even giving us a chance to demonstrate our accomplishments, we were looked upon as clowns, and banished.”
In the dungeon-like ambience of the quiet lab, Reginald’s voice carried a tone of anger and derision as he spoke. His mood changed, however, once he began talking about alchemy—a power whispered to be a gift from the gods themselves. His eyes held a spark of passion as he conveyed the science he had succeeded from his father.
“Alchemy is a force that stirs the heart of both man and universe, a cosmic dance that allows us to touch the divine.”
With an exuberant gesture, he indicated the various components around them. “It is the mastery of matter. It is the art of manipulating elements, of shaping the very foundation of existence. Imagine, Julian, the ability to turn base metals into gold and silver, to wield the Philosopher’s Stone and forge the elixir of youth, defying the relentless march of time.”
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
Reginald’s words painted a picture of wonder and possibility. “To be an alchemist is to stand at the crossroads of science and magic, a bridge between the mundane and the extraordinary. We humans strive not just for wealth or power, but to unravel the mysteries of creation itself.”
He paused, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Alchemy isn’t just about transmutation—it’s about transmutation of the self, of the soul. It’s a journey of discovery, a pursuit of the deepest truths hidden within the fabric of the world. And you, my young friend, have the opportunity to embark on this remarkable journey with me.”
Daisuke considered the proposal for a moment.
He knew the freedom he currently had was just an illusion, and he didn’t want to overstep his boundaries and lose his privileges. While Reginald still enjoyed the attention and praise, he needed to concede to the man’s requests until he could forge an escape plan.
Daisuke bowed deeply. “I’m still very naïve about the principles of alchemy, but it would be a great honor to work alongside you, Mr. Percival.”
The man rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder and squeezed, a delightful smile stretching his lips. “I can teach you all you need to know, but only you can condition your mind to receive this vast collection of knowledge.
Together, you and I will become the pioneers who usher in a new era of economic and technological development in the world. Kings and queens, even the emperor, will humbly prostrate themselves before us. The name Percival and Langley will rise to the rank of gods, and then I’ll finally be able to unleash the wrath of vengeance upon the kingdom that tarnished my family.”
***
After agreeing to join Reginald on this quest for power and retribution, Daisuke was shown to the library where he was left to start reading the mountains of books stored there.
A chandelier as impressive as the one in the dining room hung overhead. The walls, from floor to ceiling, were lined with elaborate shelves that housed hundreds of leather-bound tomes—a testament to a history of intellectual pursuits.
A grand fireplace, nestled between the shelves on the eastern wall, radiated a comforting warmth, while a large atlas hung from that of the west.
Daisuke sat around a desk at the back of the room, moonlight streaming in through the large bay windows. As he skipped through the ancient pages of a history book, he found himself reminiscing about a past memory.
In high-school, his homeroom teacher once told him that knowledge is power; it was the key to success. At that time, he thought it was just another useless idiom to motivate him to study and work hard.
But real-life experiences proved otherwise. He soon realized that wits, knowledge, observation, and decisiveness, were powerful weapons that everyone should strive to add to their arsenal. These components were truly the secret to success—but in his current predicament, it would be the key to survival.
Had he not capitalized on Reginald’s loneliness and need for validation, Daisuke would probably be sharing a cramped space in the slave’s quarters alongside the other children. The thought of what might have happened to April if he hadn’t intervened weighed heavily on him as he stroked her hair.
By the time he returned to the room, she had fallen into a deep sleep. With a tender touch, he pulled the sheets up to her neck.
Rather than solely immersing himself in alchemy studies, Daisuke took the initiative to familiarize himself with the game’s atlas, ensuring he had a sense of direction in this unfamiliar world. He delved into books and articles concerning current affairs, safeguarding himself from unwittingly wandering into hostile territories while planning his escape.
While grateful for his natural ability to read, write, and speak the native tongue of this virtual landscape, Daisuke couldn’t shake the nagging concern that it implied the System had accessed his thoughts, breaching his personal privacy.
He didn’t know how to feel about that, nor could he shake the unsettling memory of Dusthaven, where the game projected and emulated his biological parents with eerie accuracy. Though, he supposed after attempting to hack the game, he had likely soured any goodwill he had with the Zenith Corporation.
A sudden, ominous knock echoed at the door, causing Daisuke’s heart to race with apprehension. With a hairpin in hand, reminiscent of his mother’s, he cautiously edged toward the source of the uninvited guest, his senses on high alert.
“Yes? Who is it?”
“U-Umm… I-I don’t have a name.”
Daisuke sighed, feeling the tension deflate from him like a punctured balloon. He knew exactly what that meant—being nameless. Opening the door to a slight ajar revealed a lone girl, no older than ten. She had a pair of furry, sagging ears atop her head, and a tanuki tail drooped between her legs.
“M-Master Langley,” she said in a combination of embarrassment and fear, desperately pulling down at the hem of the chemise nightgown that barely managed to conceal her thighs. “…I,” she couldn’t hold his gaze. “I was told to… stay here with you tonight.”
Fear of monsters & the unknown: 49.6%