THE PROCESS WAS DAUNTING. THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE DIDN'T BEGIN AS A POLISHED GEM OF POWER, IT CAME FROM RAW ORE, WHICH WAS NOTORIOUSLY DIFFICULT TO REFINE. THIS ORE WAS STUBBORN, RESISTANT, AND EVEN WHEN DISSOLVED, IT WOULD RE-SOLIDIFY INTO IMPURE METAL, ALMOST IMPOSSIBLE TO PROCESS FURTHER.
THE CHALLENGE WAS AKIN TO TRYING TO MAKE AN ADVANCED ALLOY FROM CRUDE IRON ORE. THE RAW MATERIAL AND THE FINAL PRODUCT WERE WORLDS APART, AND UNLESS THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE COULD BE PROPERLY REFINED, CREATING HIGHER-LEVEL ARTIFACTS OR WAR WEAPONS WOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE.
COULD THEY USE THE RAW ORE OF THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE DIRECTLY? SURE, BUT THE COST WOULD BE ASTRONOMICAL, AND THE RESULT WOULD BE FAR INFERIOR TO THE TRUE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE.
THE ELVES, OF COURSE, HAD PERFECTED THE PROCESS. THEIR METHODS WERE A CLOSELY GUARDED SECRET. THE ONLY INSTRUCTION THEY HAD LEFT IN THE RECORDS REGARDING DEEP PROCESSING OF THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE WAS A SINGLE, FRUSTRATING SENTENCE: "GIVE IT TO THE TOWER OF ORIGIN FOR REFINEMENT."
IN OTHER WORDS, THE ELVES, AND PERHAPS EVEN THE SAGE HIMSELF, HAD FULL CONTROL OVER THE MOST CRUCIAL STEPS IN THE PROCESS, FROM RAW ORE TO FINISHED PHILOSOPHER'S STONE.
BUT BASTIAN WAS NOT ONE TO GIVE UP SO EASILY. "NO MATTER WHAT," HE DECLARED, "EVEN IF WE CAN ONLY PERFORM ROUGH PROCESSING, WE MUST GET THE RAW ORE CLOSER TO THE TRUE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE."
THEORETICALLY, IF THEY COULD REVERSE-ENGINEER THE PROCESS, STARTING WITH BOTH THE RAW MATERIAL AND THE FINISHED PRODUCT, THEY COULD EVENTUALLY UNLOCK THE SECRETS OF THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE. ALL THEY NEEDED WAS ENOUGH MATERIAL AND TIME TO EXPERIMENT. BUT EVEN THIS PLAN HAD ITS HURDLES. THE COALITION'S EFFORTS WERE STUCK AT THE VERY FIRST STEP, REFINING THE RAW ORE INTO SOMETHING USABLE.
STILL, BASTIAN WASN'T DISCOURAGED. HE KNEW THAT WITH THE RIGHT INSIGHTS AND A LITTLE BIT OF LUCK, THE ANSWER WOULD REVEAL ITSELF. UNTIL THEN, HE WOULD CONTINUE TO HONE HIS CRAFT, PUSHING THE BOUNDARIES OF ALCHEMY FURTHER AND FURTHER, FOR THE COALITION AND FOR HIMSELF.
"IF WE CAN'T EVEN BREAK DOWN THE RAW ORE, HOW CAN WE EVER HOPE TO PROCESS IT FURTHER?"
THE OTHER ALCHEMISTS, MASTERS OF THEIR CRAFT, WERE AT A LOSS, STARING AT THE STUBBORN MATERIAL THAT DEFIED ALL THEIR ATTEMPTS TO REFINE IT. THE ROOM WAS THICK WITH FRUSTRATION, AS IF THE VERY AIR ITSELF HAD GIVEN UP HOPE. YET, AMIDST THE UNCERTAINTY, BASTIAN STEPPED FORWARD. HIS EXPRESSION WAS CALM, DETERMINED. HE SPREAD HIS HANDS OPEN, AND SLOWLY, TWO DISTINCT FLAMES FLICKERED TO LIFE, DEATH FIRE ON ONE PALM, AND DRAGON FIRE ON THE OTHER.
"LET ME TRY," HE SAID, HIS VOICE STEADY AND CONFIDENT, DESPITE THE WEIGHT OF THE TASK BEFORE HIM.
THE OTHER ALCHEMISTS EXCHANGED SKEPTICAL GLANCES, BUT THERE WAS AN AIR OF EXPECTANCY AS THEY STEPPED BACK, GIVING HIM SPACE. THE FLAMES ON BASTIAN'S HANDS GLOWED BRIGHTER, TWISTING AND MERGING AS THEY MET THE RAW ORE. THE ROOM HELD ITS COLLECTIVE BREATH.
TO THEIR ASTONISHMENT, IT WORKED. THE DENSE, UNYIELDING ORE BEGAN TO SOFTEN AND MELT UNDER THE INTENSE HEAT. THOUGH THE FINAL PRODUCT WAS FAR FROM PERFECT, IT WAS A TRANSFORMATION, AN IMPERFECT PHILOSOPHER'S STONE, BUT A FUNCTIONAL ONE. THE ORE, ONCE IMPOSSIBLE TO PROCESS, HAD BECOME SOMETHING USABLE, ALBEIT NOT AT THE CALIBER OF THE LEGENDARY STONES CRAFTED BY THE ELVES.
"IT'S LIKE TURNING IRON ORE INTO WROUGHT IRON," BASTIAN MUSED, INSPECTING THE RESULTS. "IT'S NOT AN ALLOY YET, BUT AT LEAST WE CAN WORK WITH IT."
THIS SUCCESS LED BASTIAN TO A PROFOUND REALIZATION: THE ELVES MUST HAVE ACCESS TO A SIMILAR FLAME.
THIS WAS NOT IDLE SPECULATION. BASTIAN RECALLED A DRUNKEN CONFESSION FROM AN ELVEN PRINCE DURING ONE OF THEIR FLEETING TRUCES. THE PRINCE HAD LET SLIP THE EXISTENCE OF FLAMES CALLED THE FLAMES OF CREATION, WITH ORIGINS THAT TRACED BACK TO THE ANCIENT CREATOR GODS THEMSELVES.
THERE WERE THREE KNOWN FLAMES, ACCORDING TO THE PRINCE: THE FORESEEING FLAMES, THE FIRE OF ORIGIN, AND THE FIRE OF DEATH. THE FIRE OF ORIGIN HAD ALLOWED THE ELVES TO HARNESS THE SECRETS OF THE EARTH'S VEINS AND THE SOULS THAT COURSED THROUGH THEM, WHICH IN TURN LED TO THE CREATION OF THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE.
EVEN MORE INTRIGUING WAS THE CLAIM THAT THESE THREE FLAMES WERE ONCE UNITED, AND IF THEY WERE EVER FUSED AGAIN, THEY WOULD FORM AN UNSTOPPABLE ALCHEMICAL FIRE, ONE THAT COULD BURN THROUGH ANY SUBSTANCE. BASTIAN COULDN'T HELP BUT FEEL A PANG OF ENVY AT THE THOUGHT, BUT FOR NOW, IT REMAINED ONLY A DISTANT DREAM.
"SO," BASTIAN CONCLUDED, "THE ELVES LIKELY USE THE FIRE OF ORIGIN, OR PERHAPS EVEN THE FORESEEING FLAMES, FOR THEIR DEEP PROCESSING OF THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE."
THAT HIS DEATH FLAME COULD DISSOLVE THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE HAD NOT GONE UNNOTICED. HIS ABILITIES HAD DRAWN THE ATTENTION OF THE COALITION'S LEADERSHIP, AND BEFORE LONG, NEWS CAME THAT WOULD CHANGE EVERYTHING.
"THE FORESEEING FLAMES IS IN LADY GWENITH'S HANDS?" BASTIAN MURMURED IN DISBELIEF WHEN HE HEARD THE REPORT. IT WAS UNEXPECTED, BUT INCREDIBLY PROMISING. THE EXISTENCE OF THE FORESEEING FLAMES NOT ONLY CONFIRMED ITS USE IN PROCESSING THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE ORE BUT ALSO GAVE THE COALITION A SIGNIFICANT ADVANTAGE.
WHEN QUESTIONED ABOUT THE PURPOSE OF THIS ELUSIVE FLAME, LADY GWENITH ONLY SMILED, HER LIPS CURLING IN A WAY THAT HINTED AT SECRETS YET UNTOLD. SOME SPECULATED THAT THE NAME, FORESEEING FLAMES, WAS TIED TO GWENITH'S STRANGE ABILITY TO SEE INTO THE FUTURE, TO GLIMPSE HIDDEN TRUTHS. HER WORDS, OFTEN CRYPTIC AT THE TIME, WOULD PROVE DISTURBINGLY ACCURATE IN HINDSIGHT. WHETHER THIS FLAME GAVE HER PROPHETIC INSIGHT OR MERELY A MEANS OF MANIPULATING FATE, NO ONE COULD BE SURE.
WHAT WAS CERTAIN, HOWEVER, WAS THAT WITH THE FORESEEING FLAMES AND FIRE OF DEATH NOW IN THEIR POSSESSION, THE COALITION'S ALCHEMICAL ADVANCEMENTS ACCELERATED RAPIDLY. THOUGH THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE THEY CREATED STILL FELL SHORT OF THE ELVES' PERFECT VERSION, IT WAS IMPROVING STEADILY. THERE WAS HOPE THAT, ONE DAY, THEIR WORK MIGHT SURPASS EVEN THE ORIGINAL.
THIS SURGE OF PROGRESS BROUGHT BASTIAN INTO THE COALITION'S SPOTLIGHT. HE HAD BECOME INVALUABLE, HIS EXPERTISE AND DISCOVERIES ELEVATING HIM TO A NEW LEVEL OF INFLUENCE. FOR A MOMENT, HE ALLOWED HIMSELF TO BELIEVE THAT THE WAR MIGHT FINALLY REACH A BALANCE. PERHAPS NEITHER SIDE WOULD BE ABLE TO BEAR THE HEAVY TOLL OF ENDLESS CONFLICT. PERHAPS PEACE WAS WITHIN REACH.
HE EVEN BEGAN TO INDULGE IN WHAT HE CALLED HIS "EXTRAVAGANT HOPES", THAT THE ELVES AND THE COALITION MIGHT SOON SIT AT THE NEGOTIATION TABLE. COULD IT BE? COULD THE DAWN OF PEACE BREAK THROUGH THE ENDLESS STORM OF WAR AS SOON AS NEXT MONTH?
BUT BEFORE HIS HOPES COULD TAKE ROOT, A FAMILIAR YET UNSETTLING FIGURE APPEARED BEFORE HIM ONCE AGAIN, LIKE A HARBINGER OF DOOM.
IT WAS THE SNOWY OWL, A SHADOWY FIGURE WHOSE TRUE IDENTITY REMAINED A MYSTERY. THEY HAD BEEN A GREAT HELP TO THE COALITION, BUT BASTIAN HAD ALWAYS SUSPECTED THEIR LOYALTY WAS FAR FROM CERTAIN.
"SNOWY OWL," BASTIAN GREETED, NARROWING HIS EYES. "WE STILL DON'T KNOW WHO YOU TRULY ARE, BUT WE ARE GRATEFUL FOR YOUR AID. THAT SAID, I HAVE TO ASK, ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS? APPEARING BEFORE ME LIKE THIS… HAVE YOU REALLY THOUGHT IT THROUGH? OR ARE YOU JUST ANOTHER TOOL OF THE ELVES?"