Chương 8: Chapter 1.8: Arcane Secrets

As Favius suggested entering the alchemist's store, Brutus visibly tensed and insisted on taking the lead. He murmured something under his breath about alchemists and mages and warned Favius to be careful not to get bewitched. Favius suppressed a chuckle. So superstition is alive and well in this world. I guess I'm far more likely to be accidentally poisoned in an alchemist's shop than getting bewitched. They entered, and a tall, muscular woman with features similar to Brutus' welcomed them.

She exchanged a few words with Brutus, but Favius wasn't listening. He took in the smells. Rich, earthy, herby. And a clear note of alcohol and sulfur. As he looked around the shop, Brutus visibly relaxed, while the proprietor, in a leathery dark red cloak, talked to him and played with her hair. Are they flirting? Well, no matter.

Favius began moving along the shelves, and neither his guardian, who had apparently lost all fear of getting bewitched after meeting his attractive countrywoman, nor the shop's proprietor paid him much mind. He merely glanced over a wide variety of dried roots and herbs. Not a chance I can figure out what those do. I don't have a clue about pharmacology.

He stopped by a cluster of clay jugs and read the labels: sulfur, various ashes, salts in colors ranging from bright yellow to coppery green, and even a piece of what was almost certainly lapis lazuli. Another section held a wide variety of oils and sticky substances, while a display case held what the ornate label described as lodestones. Another large section held various essential oils. This is probably the perfume section.

He followed the sounds of laughter and found Brutus flexing his biceps while the woman squeezed it appreciatively. He grinned. Good on you, Brutus. Might have to arrange an opportunity for him to come back later here. Then he frowned. Is it weird if a ten-year-old acts as a wingman? Eh, whatever. He cleared his throat, and both of the adults turned around. The two of them wore sheepish expressions.

"Excuse me, would you mind telling me what the three products you sell in the highest volumes are?" The woman frowned but then shrugged.

"That would be lime ash, alum, and spirit flame alcohol." Favius frowned. Lime ash likely referred to quicklime, burnt limestone, which was an important industrial chemical. Alcohol also made sense. He had seen the large section of perfumes, and it was likely a profitable market. But what the hell is alum? He looked at the woman.

"Would you mind telling me what alum is used for?" The woman tilted her head slightly to the side, an amused smile playing over her face.

"Dye makers and tanners use it. It is mixed into various dyes so they bind better to fabrics and leathers." Favius nodded. Dyes and pigments are ancient and complex industries, but again, he had studied physics, not chemistry, so my knowledge is superficial beyond the basics. He went back to Brutus' side, and the man soon made excuses, though promised to come by the shop again before the two of them left. Outside the shop, Favius smirked at Brutus, and the older man grinned back just as widely.

"What?" Favius shook his head and chuckled.

"Nothing." Brutus let out a rumbling laugh. As they walked on, Favius overheard a flour merchant talking to a customer.

"I'm sorry, but my mill broke, so I have less flour. Thus, it's more expensive than usual." The customer grumbled, then left without purchasing anything. Favius walked up to the man.

"Excuse me, you mentioned a mill? How does it work? Is it a—" He stumbled as he found a term that wasn't in this language but could easily be constructed.

"—a watermill?" The flour merchant's expression soured even further. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Why would you want to mill water? A mill is powered by oxen or slaves, child." The merchant's response bordered on being impolite, but Brutus cleared his throat and shifted his axe between his hands. The merchant plastered a smile on his face.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, young master?" Favius tilted his head. On the one hand, it was a sour old bastard. On the other hand—"Have you never heard of a wheel being driven by water and used to grind anything or turn anything?" The flour merchant's frown deepened, but he shook his head.

"No. How would that even work? I told you, a millstone is turned by cattle, be they man or animal." Brutus scratched his beard.

"You mean like the irrigation wheels alongside the river?" Favius heard another chiming of the system in his head, but he still turned to Brutus.

"Irrigation wheels?" His bodyguard described a simple water wheel with affixed buckets that used the river's current to lift water into a higher irrigation channel. Favius remembered seeing images of systems like that, and they soon left the surly merchant behind. The sun was already setting, and Favius grew nervous. We'll have to get back soon. And the quest… If I remember correctly, I've had something like forty-five pings.

But his worries dropped away as he heard the sounds of hammering, and they walked into an alley where the ring of metal filled the air. Brutus looked around, assessing the well-armored guards.

"The Collegia of Smiths. They field nasty fighters." The two of them walked up to a smithy, and Favius scanned various everyday objects and weapons before addressing the middle-aged woman manning the stall. He pointed at the building.

"Excuse me, but would it be possible if we could see the workshop?" She frowned, then shrugged, and screamed into the building.

"Archeon!" They waited in silence for a few moments. Then a burly, bearded man wearing a scorched leather apron left the building. He looked from the woman to Brutus, then to Favius, before Brutus stepped forward.

"Whadaya want?"

"How much to have the kid see the workshop? He's curious, you see." Favius barely managed to fight down the irritation and settled his face into a smile of childish excitement. I am in the body of a child, so people are going to treat me like this. Brutus and the master smith negotiated for a short while, and a few silvers changed hands. But it was worth it.

Watching the smiths and their apprentices pour the bronze, work it in relatively small furnaces heated by bellows, and then hammer, sharpen, and treat it in various ways made the bells in his mind tingle six times. Favius left with a satisfied smile, and he and Brutus continued exploring the market. After getting two more chimes, Favius grew worried. I'm definitely around fifty right now, but it feels— He closed his eyes, causing Brutus to stop. Incomplete somehow.

However, most of the stalls were already closing up, and he suppressed a curse. Well, I guess it was a successful day. An idea came to him.

"Is there any kind of craftsmanship we haven't seen today?" Brutus opened his mouth, but Favius raised a finger to interrupt him.

"Anything major, important craftsmanship that is common in this city." Brutus frowned.

"I don't think we missed anything major. I've actually seen a few things I hadn't seen before today." He smiled at Favius.

"Hope it was interesting for you as well, and it helped you fulfill whatever you saw in your dream." Favius frowned before remembering the story he had told the older man.

"Yes, it was enlightening. It's just…" He shook his head and sighed.

"Let's go back. We'll have to talk to Marcus." Brutus hummed and nodded sagely. As they walked down the city's avenues at sunset, something came to Favius. His father's suicide. The thought made him shudder as he remembered the blade had been made of strange, almost rainbow-like metal. Then he glanced at Brutus' axe. It too was made of a shimmering metal that could only be steel. He frowned.

"Brutus, we've seen a lot of bronze in the market, but I can't remember seeing an ironsmith." Brutus chuckled.

"No mere smith works iron, boy. To work steel—" He tapped his axe.

"—you need magic." Favius' eyes widened, and he groaned silently. Of course, this is a world with magic. Obviously there is going to be interaction between magic and technology. That's probably what I've been missing. Brutus held out his axe.

"You see those lines?" Favius squinted, barely able to make out something that looked like a circuit diagram running over the blade. Next, Brutus pointed to a strange black crystal that was embedded in the top of his axe.

"I need to pay an arm and a leg to have a Lithii recharge my Ademantite shard to keep the weapon sharper and lighter than it should be each month. Greedy bastards."

"Lithii?" Favius asked, but Brutus gestured for him to follow. They reached one of the major avenues, and again they saw the five towers of the Academy of Magi. Brutus pointed to the golden one bedecked in jewels. Only now did the large statue atop the tower catch Favius' eye.

"Lithii forge armors and weapons of steel and enchant them. They are honest warriors," he said after a moment, but then still grumbled, "despite being mages." He pointed toward the white tower, etched in silver, with searchlights illuminating the cloudy sky.

"Luminarii use light and lightning." He pointed to the next tower, the one of red stone with bronze accents and a number of braziers and a large fire burning on top of it.

"Pyrii sling grenades of various essences into the ranks of the enemy, breaking them before our infantry crushes them." And finally, he pointed at the tower that was covered in vines with a large tree on top.

"Vitaii are mages of life, healers and breeders of spiritual animals and plants." And finally, a symphony of nearly a dozen bells filled his mind, and he knew he had succeeded. He had fulfilled his first quest. Smiling broadly, he nodded to Brutus.

"Thank you, Brutus. That was very helpful." His expression soured.

"Let's get back to Marcus." Brutus chuckled.

"I do hate that pretentious prick's face. But he was right about one thing, Favius. There are always consequences to your actions."