Chapter #6The Alchemist by: Joy   “I shall do what I can,” the alchemist replied. “But it is a conundrum, as the land is tainted, and any being I bring up can be affected in a negative way. Not the Fire Beast for sure. For the Shadow Beast is so evil and the nights so black. ” He let his gaze wander slowly about the tower room, in which there had been no change since he had last been in it, a year ago.
He recalled the thoughts that had been in his mind then. The contents of this room were fixed in their way, as was the silver forest with its thick shrubbery and dense branches of its tall trees. No change should come in here, and for the better. Any change meant contamination. He had advised the powers that be to have the people who entered the place take off their shoes, wipe their feet, dust their clothes, and wash their faces and hands as thoroughly as they could. Anything to prevent any evil spreading. One never knew what to expect from shadows, especially when those shadows could turn to be a beast.
His eyes grazed the brass andirons that stood as if they were monuments of order and stability.
“Why do you search the place with your eyes?” The Realm Master asked.
“Your Majesty, contamination is more to be feared than the Shadow Beast, as contamination is a forerunner to him. In other words, Shadow Beast goes where contamination is.”
“That would mean the entire realm,” a council member said.
“Exactly,” said the Alchemist. “That is why this room in the tower should be kept meticulously clean of contamination, so at least the governing body can come to right decisions, without the Shadow Beast affecting the minds.” He turned to the council. “Shadow Beast must be afraid of your strength,” he advised. “Strength always can mask what’s brittle.”
Another council member blinked, shaking his head. “Can that beast do that, I mean affect the mind?”
The Alchemist nodded.
The Realm Master looked away in deep thought, focusing on the lights coming from outside, at their glittery allure. When he turned to the Alchemist again, his voice carried great concern. “Tell me: What is the Beast’s purpose in creating such havoc?”
“That I can’t exactly say, Your Majesty, but I can guess it is the same as any other beast: To bring desperation to his environs so he can hide his own desperation.”
Experiencing a ripple in his mind, the Alchemist’s face crumpled; another time, another place, people wasting away, rivers drying, forests burning, beast and man in fierce wars with themselves and one another.
Security, safety. What was that? After that time, he’d never felt safe, not truly, not even while in the dungeon changing copper to gold or training dragons, no matter how strong he had made himself to be or how strong he’s let others think he was.
Was anyone ever strong enough?
He jerked about, coming to his senses, and saw the Realm Master watching him with concern. He bent his head and looked down.
“Tell me,” the Realm Master talked slowly. “What is making you so agitated, so worried?”
Recalling why he was summoned to the tower, he tried a smile, an absent smile without the consent of his soul. He pulled himself together, forcing the noise in his head cease, and faced the shocked silence of the room as the council members who had been murmuring among themselves had quieted totally.
“The experience I had at another time and another realm,” said the Alchemist, ”I recalled that. It was too disjointed, too frightful.”
The Realm Master waved a hand. A servant brought a glass of water to the Alchemist. He gulped it down. He was dripping with perspiration, although he was used to the heat of the dragons and this room was cool in comparison.
“But the realm is not in such danger, or is it?” asked the council member who had first spoken.
“No! No.” The Alchemist shook his large head. “At least not yet. What I had momentarily was the sudden surfacing of an emotional trauma with roots in a distant past. I beg your forgiveness for it, Your Majesty.”
“No need to look so alarmed, Sir,” The Realm Master said. “The council understands. As long as this problem of yours does not interfere with your present operation, disturbing your work.”
Alchemist knew that stress should never be an issue, but to have witnessed such sorrows and not be affected was out of the question. The memories hurt so much…
He relaxed his stance. “I’m only a little jumpy, Sir, informational overload, possibly. Anyhow, I do have an idea.”
“Pray tell.”
The Alchemist thought for a second and pinched at his chin. “Fine,” he said. “This is different from my usual work, but here it is:”
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