One would think that a parasite wouldn't like living alone very much. Sure, Trader could still survive without a host, but her organs were designed to be compact, not efficient. She'd have to eat more to offset her wasteful stomach, and soon enough she'd need to sleep for almost half a day in order to feel rested. The symbiote was superhuman when regularly bonded to a host, but by herself, she would soon be in a worse physical condition than the average person.
However, she began to feel cramped living with Karrel, both metaphorically and literally. She wanted a workshop to pursue her own unrelated projects, and a bedroom to pursue her own unrelated people.
To solve her issue of dependency, she decided to hire an assistant. Isabella even had someone at the ready. They originally wanted to apprentice under the demon, but she was always busy, and Trader, while not yet at Isa's level, was skilled enough to help the alchemist-to-be learn for their license exam. Something Trader also had to go through if she wanted to actually sell any of her work without getting arrested. She'd also decided to get a healer's license for the same reason.
Scheduling the exams wasn't difficult, and she passed both on the first try. The requirements weren't exactly high - she mostly needed to show she wouldn't accidentally kill someone when fixing them up, and that her concoctions wouldn't explode unless they were meant to. The biggest hurdle was the associated fee, but she still had money from her cut of the beetlescale armor sale.
That money had all but ran out after she furnished her new house with alchemical equipment befitting of a proper laboratory. What started as an empty warehouse turned into a state of the art alchemical workshop. Tables with beakers, flasks and bottles under every wall. Over them cupboards filled with neatly organized reagents, from common minerals to body parts of magical creatures. There was also a small side room that would serve as Trader's bedroom. In front of its door stood the centerpiece of the whole lab - the athanor.
The athanor was primarily a furnace, but it was also much more. With several chambers, each inlaid with enchantments, an alchemist could use the athanor to perform complex imbuement and extraction procedures, culminating in what alchemy was most sought after for: true transmutation. The best thing about the alchemical furnace, though, was its ability to sustain an alchemy spell once it was set up, letting the user walk away and return hours later, when the spell was completed.
Trader looked around at her new home with a proud smile. She went broke setting it all up, but it has been worth it.
"By Bombasto, we have an athanor?!" Someone shouted at the entrance.
The symbiote alchemist turned around and waved to the new arrival - a green skinned short person dressed in plain clothes covered by a leather apron.
"Hello Morgan. Yes, we do. It took half of my budget, but what kind of apprenticeship would it be if I didn't teach you how to use one?" She replied.
Morgan was the assistant Isabella recommended. The young goblin was extremely eager to have a teacher, and had signed a non-disclosure contract without batting an eye to get one. The contract was imbued with Isa's demonic magic, so if they ever broke it, they'd be terminally cursed. The terms also stated Morgan would be living with Trader and offer themself as her host.
"Oh my, I can't wait!" The alchemist's apprentice sprinted to the furnace. "What are we making first? A homunculus? Potion of regeneration? Gold? Please tell me it's gold!"
She giggled and patted them on their bald head. "First we gotta pay for this place. My friend bought me this building on the condition that I develop an explosive powder for this new weapon he's making."
After explaining the concept of a gun to them, Morgan somehow became even more excited.
-
"Okay, now move that essence into the next flask." She instructed.
Morgan nodded, their gaze focused on the glass. They weaved mana with their hands, and threw the spell forward. The extracted essence of iron shaving from flask A moved through a tube into flask B.
"Good. Now, to imbue, you have to do the same thing as extraction, but in reverse. Try it."
Morgan stuck out their tongue in concentration. Another spell flew into the flask, and the essence slowly seeped into the tiny wooden ball. It wouldn't be perceptible without the goggles both of them wore.
"It's gone. Did it work?" The goblin turned to Trader.
"One way to find out."
She took off the cork with a tube from the flask B and turned it over so the ball fell out. She grabbed a hammer from a nearby table, steadied the ball with the other hand, and slammed the wooden bauble with as much force as she could muster.
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The wood was damaged. But not the ball, the table.
"Yes! I did it!" Morgan jumped, with exaltation, their fists in the air.
"Yep, you are officially an alchemist now. Alright, I gotta run some tests again, this table and that ingredient cupboard are yours for the rest of the day."
"Thank you Trader! I think I'll just do some natural chemistry, though. I'm spent. Damn, I really need to work on my mana capacity…"
"You're young. Your mind and soul will grow stronger with experience. Plus your alchemy is far from efficient. Not bad for a first time, though."
"Aren't there some elixirs to increase your mana pool?"
"Yes, there are. But there is no substitute for a strong foundation. There are no shortcuts to power, unless you are willing to risk yourself. For now, I think we're going to start meditating every evening."
The young apprentice sighed. "That's boring! You just sit there, doing nothing!"
"If you can feel boredom, you're not doing it right. I'll show you. Trust me, you'll thank me later."
With that, she turned to the athanor and grabbed a recorder. As the name implied, the magical device was able to record one's voice to listen to later. She saw one on the market and found it a great help in taking notes.
"Gunpowder, formula number ten, variation…" she quickly read her transcribed notes. "... variation D. This one uses oxygen essence instead of powdered flame boar tusk as an accelerant. Filtering pure oxygen from the air to extract from is finicky, but it's much cheaper than the tusks, and I need to make a lot of this stuff."
She opened the lowest chamber of the alchemical furnace, where the mixture was already complete. She sweeped the powder into a vial through a funnel, and walked to a locked cabinet.
As a security measure, she had destroyed the key; instead she uncoiled a tendril from a finger and used it as a lockpick. Trader took out a gun prototype from within, and an empty bullet.
The steel contraption wasn't big. On the outside, one could divide it into sections: the handle, which featured a trigger not unlike that of a crossbow, the chamber for the bullet, and a longer cylinder dubbed by the original designer a "barrel". It didn't really resemble a barrel in Trader's opinion, but she couldn't think of a better name for it. Tunnel?
She took out a smaller funnel and filled the bullet - a tiny cylinder made out of lead - and bent a bit of metal to seal it shut. It still had a miniature hole, but it was smaller than the powder's grain and would be used to actually light the gunpowder.
She opened the gun's chamber and placed the bullet within. After closing, she pulled back a part of it. It was called a "hammer" and would be what actually set off the explosion.
"Alright. Here goes."
She pointed the barrel up, at her chin. She wanted to personally measure the efficacy of this mixture. With everything ready, she pulled the trigger.
A deafening boom resounded in the lab. A startled Morgan almost dropped the flask they were holding. Then there was another sound, a quiet tap, tap, tap. The goblin looked at their teacher, who now sported two new holes in her head, one under her chin, and one among her hair.
At first they thought that the tapping was drops of blood pouring from Trader's wounds, but she quickly willed her body to close the holes, and the sound remained. Both of them looked up.
There was a hole in the roof through which rain trickled in. Tap tap tap.
Trader grabbed the recorder.
"I believe we have a winner." She said, and turned off the device. She looked at Morgan. "It seems we both had a very successful day. Let's go eat something."
They were about to protest, but their stomach rumbled loudly, so they shrugged and walked up to Trader, who bonded with the goblin. They went to Morgan's favorite restaurant, "the Picky Eater." They couldn't afford to eat there often, but there was a cause to celebrate.
The place was on the more expensive side because it offered meals made out of magical beasts and even some monsters that lived in the nearby forest. Hunting those was dangerous, so many hunters wouldn't risk it. As a result, the meat of those creatures was at a premium.
They had a steak from a flame boar. Recently a whole herd has been butchered, so the price was comparatively low.
Afterwards Trader insisted the two meditate. It took about an hour for Morgan to grasp how to still their mind, but they did so eventually. The two of them were relaxed and ready to sleep after that. It was a good day.
-
It was a terrible day for Karrel. Buying property for Trader had left quite a dent in his savings, and for the last week there were no new commissions.
What's more, he hit a wall when it came to the gun project. He had decided that having to open the gun, load the bullet in, and close it after every shot was going to get him killed in a real combat.
[I could add some sort of feeding mechanism into the handle… no, making sure the bullet falls properly into the chamber would take ages.] He thought. [Tinkering on this scale is delicate work already. Let's leave it as a last resort.]
"I'll just have to sleep on it." He grumbled, and made his way to the bed.
He felt uncomfortable, though he couldn't tell why for a little while. Eventually he realized he simply felt lonely. This was the first night since Trader fell from the sky that he wasn't sleeping bonded with her.
[I have only known her a month, and the first night she's not here, I can't sleep.] He mused, staring at the ceiling. [Was she putting some drug into me, so I'm addicted and can't throw her out?]
He briefly considered it, but decided she wouldn't do that. There were many easier ways to abuse his trust and form dependency on her. Besides, he got to know her enough to believe she was a good person. Cannibalism aside.
[I guess I'm dependent on her anyway. Blood magic is key to cracking the code on draconic awakening, I can feel it in my bones. We need the gizmo from that office, though.]
He wriggled in his bed for half an hour, trying to sleep. Then he remembered Trader taught him how to meditate. She'd said it helped calm the mind.
"Sure, why not."
He sat down comfortably on his bed and began to clear his thoughts.