"FATHER," SCORMETHEUS CONTINUED, HIS VOICE QUIET YET UNSHAKABLE, "YOU CAN SUPPRESS THE TRIBES WITH YOUR POWER NOW, BUT WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU'RE GONE? WE BROTHERS, " HE HESITATED, THEN FORCED THE TRUTH OUT, "WE WILL TEAR EACH OTHER APART."
IT WAS AS IF HE'D STRUCK THE DEEPEST, MOST VULNERABLE PART OF HIS FATHER'S HEART. THE OLD MAN, ENRAGED BEYOND MEASURE, HAD NEARLY STRUCK SCORMETHEUS DOWN WHERE HE STOOD. AND SCORMETHEUS, IN A STRANGE WAY, UNDERSTOOD. HE HAD SPOKEN WHAT HIS FATHER FEARED MOST.
SCORMETHEUS TOOK A DEEP BREATH. HIS TONE SOFTENED, TINGED WITH RESIGNATION. "THE PAST IS BEHIND US. WHAT MATTERS NOW IS ENDING THIS WAR AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE. I KNOW WHAT THEY'LL SAY ABOUT ME IN THE FUTURE. A TRAITOR TO MY OWN KIND."
ABOVE, A SNOWY OWL SOARED, ITS MOURNFUL CRY ECHOING IN THE DISTANCE. YET THERE WAS NO REGRET IN SCORMETHEUS'S HEART, NO SECOND THOUGHTS. HE KNEW WHAT NEEDED TO BE DONE.
IT WASN'T EMPATHY FOR OTHER RACES THAT DROVE HIM, ALTHOUGH HE DID FEEL IT. NO, HIS MOTIVATIONS WERE DEEPER, SIMPLER. "ALL I WANT IS FOR OUR RACE TO SURVIVE, EVEN IN THE WORST OF OUTCOMES."
DESPITE HIS INNER TURMOIL, SCORMETHEUS PRESSED ON. HIS DESTINATION LAY JUST AHEAD, A SATELLITE TOWN, THE CITY'S HUB OF KNOWLEDGE. HERE, HE WAS SUPPOSED TO MEET WITH BASTIAN. AND HERE, IN THIS TOWN OF WISDOM, A GRIM FUTURE WAS ABOUT TO TAKE SHAPE.
BASTIAN EMERGED FROM THE TOWN'S DATABASE, HIS FACE ALIGHT WITH TRIUMPH. BESIDE HER, THE DRAGON TEAM CARRIED THE FRUITS OF THEIR MISSION, ANCIENT TEXTS DETAILING THE ELUSIVE PROCESS OF CREATING THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE. WITH THIS KNOWLEDGE, THEY COULD FORGE ARTIFACTS CAPABLE OF FORTIFYING THEIR FORCES, EVENING THE ODDS IN A WAR THAT SEEMED HOPELESS.
SCORMETHEUS WATCHED FROM THE SHADOWS, TORN BETWEEN DUTY AND DREAD. THE SIGHT OF THEM, SO ELATED BY THEIR STOLEN KNOWLEDGE, ONLY DEEPENED HIS DOUBT. HE DID NOTHING TO STOP THEM.
"IF WE'RE GOING TO STOP THIS WAR," SCORMETHEUS WHISPERED TO HIMSELF, "BOTH SIDES NEED THE POWER TO ANNIHILATE ONE ANOTHER. ONLY THE FEAR OF MUTUAL DESTRUCTION CAN FORCE US TO PEACE. I HOPE I'M RIGHT. NO, I KNOW BETRAYAL CAN NEVER BE RIGHT. I JUST HOPE... MY CHOICE LEADS TO SOMETHING GOOD."
WITH A HEAVY HEART, HE STOOD FROZEN, WATCHING THE SNOWY OWL CIRCLE ABOVE, ITS MOURNFUL CRY NOW A SILENT PLEA TO A WORLD ON THE BRINK OF RUIN.
***
SOME PAIN ARISES FROM LOOKING TOO FAR AHEAD, WHERE UNCERTAINTIES AND ENDLESS POSSIBILITIES BECOME HEAVY BURDENS.
SOME PAIN IS ROOTED IN THE PRESENT, GNAWING AT US WITH IMMEDIATE DISCOMFORT AND PRESSING NEEDS.
AND SOME PAIN STEMS FROM THE PAST, MEMORIES THAT REFUSE TO FADE, WOUNDS THAT CAN'T BE HEALED.
FOR THOSE WHO ARE BLIND TO THE FUTURE, NUMB TO THE PRESENT, AND FORGETFUL OF THE PAST, LIFE CAN BE BLISSFULLY SIMPLE. IN MANY WAYS, THEY LIVE IN AN ENVIABLE STATE OF IGNORANCE. BUT SCORMETHEUS, THE HEIR TO THE THRONE OF THE ELF KING, IS NOT SO FORTUNATE. HE IS THE OPPOSITE IN EVERY WAY. WITH THE WEIGHT OF HIS LINEAGE, HE IS CURSED TO ALWAYS LOOK AHEAD, CONSTANTLY ANTICIPATE DANGERS, AND FEEL THE PULSE OF HIS PEOPLE. HE MUST NOT ONLY UNDERSTAND THEIR SUFFERING BUT ALSO CARRY THE BURDEN OF THEIR HOPES.
HIS ROLE REQUIRES CONSTANT REFLECTION ON PAST FAILURES, A RELENTLESS PURSUIT OF PERFECTION, AND THE UNATTAINABLE STANDARDS OF KINGSHIP. IT'S A LIFE OF DUTY, FILLED WITH HEAVY DECISIONS AND THE SUFFOCATING PRESSURE OF KNOWING EVERY MISSTEP COULD SPELL DISASTER FOR HIS RACE. SCORMETHEUS'S EXISTENCE HAS BECOME A BATTLE NOT ONLY AGAINST EXTERNAL ENEMIES BUT ALSO WITH HIS OWN MIND.
EACH DAY, HE QUESTIONS WHETHER HE HAS STRAYED FROM THE RIGHT PATH. CAN HIS LONELY JOURNEY TRULY SAVE HIS PEOPLE AND THIS FRAGILE WORLD? THE ANSWERS ELUDE HIM, DROWNED BY THE CRUEL REALITY OF ENDLESS CONFLICT. HE HAD ONCE HOPED THAT WHEN BOTH WARRING FACTIONS ACHIEVED EQUAL POWER, A STALEMATE WOULD BRING PEACE. YET, THE REVERSE WAS TRUE, BOTH SIDES, GRIPPED BY FEAR OF ANNIHILATION, ONLY ACCELERATED THEIR PATH TO DESTRUCTION, USING EVER MORE RADICAL AND DEVASTATING METHODS.
MEANWHILE, IN THE FAR REACHES OF THE GIANT CANYON, BASTIAN, POSING AS A MERCHANT AND OPPORTUNIST, CLOSED ANOTHER DEAL WITH A SMUG GRIN ON HIS FACE. "FIFTY GOLD COINS, AND I'LL FINISH ENCHANTING THIS BATCH," HE SAID, POCKETING THE PAYMENT. BUSINESS WAS BOOMING, AND TODAY'S TRANSACTION LEFT HIM IN PARTICULARLY HIGH SPIRITS.
MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE GOLD, HOWEVER, WAS THE SUCCESS OF THE "DAWN PROJECT," A BREAKTHROUGH THAT HANDED CRUCIAL KNOWLEDGE TO THE COALITION FORCES. THE TIDE OF WAR HAD SHIFTED, AND THE ONCE DEVASTATING DISPARITY IN STRENGTH BETWEEN THE TWO SIDES WAS RAPIDLY CLOSING. AT LAST, THE BATTLEFIELD SAW BALANCE, AVOIDING WHAT HAD BEEN A SURE COLLAPSE.
FOR BASTIAN, THOUGH, THIS BALANCE LEFT HIM IN AN ODD POSITION. AS AN UNAFFILIATED ALCHEMIST, NEITHER SIDE EXPECTED MUCH FROM HIM ON THE BATTLEFIELD. HE WASN'T A WARRIOR, AND HIS TALENTS DIDN'T LIE IN COMBAT. BUT EVEN SO, HE HAD NOT BEEN IDLE. HIS MIND HAD BEEN CONSTANTLY AT WORK.
"WHEN THIS JOB'S DONE, I'LL MEET WITH THE OTHER ALCHEMISTS," HE MUSED. "THERE'S STILL SO MUCH I NEED TO LEARN." HIS CURIOSITY WAS INSATIABLE, ESPECIALLY AFTER THE COALITION'S ACQUISITION OF THE ELVES' MOST GUARDED SECRET: ALCHEMY. THIS WAS NO ORDINARY BRANCH OF MAGIC; IT WAS A COMPREHENSIVE SYSTEM THAT TOUCHED EVERY FACET OF MAGICAL CREATION. FROM ENCHANTMENTS TO MAGIC SCROLLS, AND EVEN THE CONSTRUCTION OF WAR MACHINES, THE SECRETS THEY HAD UNLOCKED WERE STAGGERING.
AT ITS CORE, ELVEN ALCHEMY WAS A PATHWAY TO GODLIKE CREATION, OFFERING THE KNOWLEDGE TO FORGE PHILOSOPHER'S STONES, CRAFT ARTIFACTS OF POWER, AND EVEN BREATHE LIFE INTO ARTIFICIAL CREATURES. THE ELVES HAD NOT BEEN BOASTING WHEN THEY CALLED THEMSELVES GODS; THEIR MASTERY OF CREATION RIVALED THE LEGENDS THEMSELVES.
BASTIAN COULDN'T HELP BUT MARVEL AT THE ELVES' CRAFTSMANSHIP. THEY WEREN'T JUST MAKING WEAPONS; THEY WERE CREATING LIFE, BENDING THE VERY RULES OF EXISTENCE. YET, AS HIS MIND DRIFTED, HE RECALLED THE COALITION'S RESEARCH INTO ANCIENT MYTHS. THE CREATOR GODS, WHO ONCE SHAPED THE WORLD, HAD LONG VANISHED, AND THOUGH THEIR POWER REMAINED IN LEGEND, THEIR RESPONSIBILITY TO THE MORTAL REALM SEEMED NONEXISTENT. THE COALITION'S HOPES FOR DIVINE INTERVENTION WERE DASHED, THE GODS, IT SEEMED, HAD NO INTEREST IN SAVING THIS BROKEN WORLD.
LEFT WITH NO SAVIORS, THE COALITION DID WHAT THEY COULD, THEY SHARED THE ALCHEMICAL KNOWLEDGE WIDELY, URGING EVERY MAGE AND SPELLCASTER TO LEARN. AND THEY DID. THE RANKS OF THE COALITION QUICKLY SWELLED WITH NEWLY TRAINED ALCHEMISTS, ALL EAGER TO CONTRIBUTE TO THE WAR EFFORT.
AMONG THEM, BASTIAN STOOD OUT. HIS PROGRESS WAS UNMATCHED, HIS HUNGER FOR KNOWLEDGE INSATIABLE. BUT EVEN AS HE CLIMBED THE RANKS OF ALCHEMICAL MASTERY, THERE WAS A LINGERING QUESTION: COULD ANY OF THIS TRULY TIP THE SCALES IN A WAR THAT SEEMED DESTINED TO CONSUME EVERYTHING?
THE EXPLANATION IS SIMPLE: IT'S JUST A NATURAL FIT.
ALCHEMY AT ITS CORE IS THE SCIENCE OF "TRANSFORMATION" AND "AUGMENTATION," RESHAPING AND REFINING THE ELEMENTS THAT MAKE UP THE WORLD. AND, IN A SENSE, THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT BASTIAN HAD BEEN DOING ALL ALONG, EVEN BEFORE HIS FORMAL ALCHEMICAL STUDIES. HIS TALENTS WERE ALWAYS ABOUT TAKING SOMETHING RAW AND SHAPING IT INTO SOMETHING NEW, SOMETHING GREATER.
AT HIGHER LEVELS, ALCHEMY TRANSCENDS MERE MATTER. ALCHEMISTS LEARN TO TRANSFORM NOT JUST THE PHYSICAL BUT ALSO THE METAPHYSICAL, TURNING SOULS INTO TANGIBLE FORMS, CONVERTING CONSCIOUSNESS INTO SOLID ENTITIES. AND FOR SOMEONE LIKE BASTIAN, WHO HAD BEEN BLESSED WITH THE GIFT OF CLAIRVOYANCE, THE ABILITY TO SEE BEYOND THE MATERIAL WORLD, IT WAS AS IF ALCHEMY HAD BEEN WAITING FOR HIM ALL ALONG.
NO WONDER BASTIAN EXCELLED.
IN JUST THREE SHORT MONTHS, HE HAD MASTERED THE BASICS OF ALCHEMY AND TRANSFORMED INTO A TRUE MAGE, SPECIALIZING IN THE ALCHEMICAL ARTS. HIS PROGRESS WAS ASTONISHING. HE WAS ALMOST UNRECOGNIZABLE FROM THE PERSON HE HAD BEEN BEFORE, HIS NEWFOUND ABILITIES EVIDENT IN EVERY FACET OF HIS BEING. WHAT'S MORE, HIS NATURAL GIFT OF CLAIRVOYANCE GAVE HIM UNIQUE INSIGHT INTO ONE OF ALCHEMY'S GREATEST MYSTERIES: THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE. THIS RARE AND POWERFUL ARTIFACT WAS NOW WITHIN HIS GRASP, AND HIS RAPID RISE MADE HIM A KEY FIGURE WITHIN THE COALITION.
MANY OF THE MORE SEASONED ALCHEMISTS, THOSE WHO HAD TRANSITIONED FROM OTHER MAGICAL PROFESSIONS, WATCHED HIS METEORIC RISE IN DISBELIEF. THEY COULD ONLY CHALK IT UP TO RAW TALENT. YET BASTIAN KNEW BETTER, THERE WAS MORE AT PLAY THAN SIMPLE LUCK OR GIFTS. HIS SUCCESS CAME FROM SOMETHING DEEPER.
ONE DAY, AS HE STARED INTO THE FLICKERING FLAME HE HAD SUMMONED, HE SPOKE ALOUD TO NO ONE IN PARTICULAR: "THIS FIRE CAN BURN THROUGH THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE ITSELF. ANY LIVING MATERIAL IN ITS PATH WILL EITHER BE CONSUMED OR DISSOLVED."
HIS GREATEST ADVANCEMENT OVER THESE PAST MONTHS HAD NOT COME FROM BOOKS OR SCROLLS, BUT FROM THE FUSION OF TWO OF HIS MOST POTENT ABILITIES: THE DEADLY "DEATH FIRE" AND HIS PERSONAL "DRAGON FLAME." TOGETHER, THEY FORMED AN INFERNO THAT HE COULD CONTROL WITH EASE, A FLAME SO INTENSE THAT IT COULD MELT OR DECOMPOSE NEARLY ANY MATERIAL.
FOR AN ALCHEMIST, THERE IS NO TOOL MORE VALUABLE THAN A FIRE CAPABLE OF SAFELY BREAKING DOWN MAGICAL SUBSTANCES. AND WITH HIS EYES, WHICH COULD PEER INTO THE VERY ESSENCE OF MATTER, COMBINED WITH HIS UNPARALLELED CONTROL OF THIS DESTRUCTIVE FLAME, BASTIAN HAD QUIETLY RISEN TO THE UPPER ECHELONS OF THE ALCHEMICAL WORLD. HIS MASTERY HAD ACCELERATED BECAUSE THESE GIFTS WORKED IN PERFECT HARMONY, PUSHING HIM FURTHER ALONG THE PATH TO TRUE ALCHEMICAL POWER.
BUT WHAT TRULY SET HIM APART WAS HIS PIVOTAL ROLE IN THE CREATION OF THE COALITION'S PHILOSOPHER'S STONE. THANKS TO HIS TALENT AND GROWING EXPERTISE, HE HAD GAINED ACCESS TO A WEALTH OF MATERIALS AND SECRET KNOWLEDGE, PLACING HIM AT THE HEART OF THE COALITION'S EFFORTS TO CREATE THIS LEGENDARY ARTIFACT.