Imperial Attention 6 – Trade Secrets

Alameus Alamay had not been the head of the alchemists for long. By dark elven standards, his 9 years of leadership made him a greenhorn, especially since he had claimed the mantle at a mere 22 years of age. Indeed, many within the organisation were still muttering behind closed doors about his youth and inexperience. They could not bring such opinions to the public, however, for Alameus was simply too talented.

And talent recognised talent.

When he had been given the message that a potion capable of rapidly expanding the power of the drinker had been presented to the patent office, he had rolled his eyes. He had maintained his skepticism, albeit weakened, when he had heard that it came from a silver-ranked adventuring party. That fact had meant he had to at least pay the matter personal attention.

Now that he was looking at Apexus, Alameus had no more doubts.

Apexus sat on the other side of an ornate table in an ornate room. His three party members and one companion sat on a comfortable couch at the side, not even pretending they were part of this talk.

Alameus glanced down at the vial between them. It was halfway empty, the test having taken its part. “As the head of the imperial alchemists, I express my greatest interest in this potion.” The black-haired dark elf put a finger on the rounded body of the vial. “As a professional, I understand what an opening gambit is.” He gave the side of the glass a tap, sending it rolling across the table.

Apexus caught the vial and pocketed it to return it to his storage later. “That expedites matters,” the Monk answered. “Even if I were to give you the details of its function, it would only cause suffering in the pursuit of copying it.”

“Like the Miner’s Rot?” Alameus asked.

“The Miner’s Rot?” Apexus tilted his head.

The head of the imperial alchemists blinked a couple times. ‘Was my impression wrong?’ he asked himself. “The great success of Talabekus and the source of great suffering since?” Apexus shook his head, still having no idea what was being talked about. “How… deep does your alchemical education go, exactly?”

“When I was younger, I watched a great alchemist work often,” Apexus responded, deliberately vague. “I took up the art after purchasing a starting set, containing the Esotierca Flora, Fauna and Silica. I have studied them extensively.”

“And…” Alameus gestured for the adventurer to continue.

“That is the extent of my alchemical education.”

Alameus turned around immediately, looking at one of his ‘students’. He was a man thirty years his senior and typically annoyed that he had to learn from such a youngling. That difference in opinion did not matter at that moment, they both knew something was off. “Go fetch me the standardised entry test.”

“Yes, guild master,” the man said and hurried away.

“If you do not mind, I would like you to fill out a simple test for me. It will just take a few minutes.”

“I do not mind. However, I wish to learn what the Miner’s Rot is first.”

“Certainly.” Alameus nodded. “Talabekus was, famously, one of the first followers of Ouros, creator of many potion recipes that are used to this day. However, while much of his work is remarkably reproducible, one of his creations is a consistent safety hazard. The Miner’s Slime is a simple fluid made of one metal that, once let loose, will live for three days and seek as much of that same metal as it can. When it then perishes, it leaves behind a concentrated mass of that metal. Attempts to recreate this highly convenient creature typically end with the creation of a semi-sapient, tiny slime creature that eats metal and turns it into an airborne poison. Miners that breathe it experience necrosis on their skin and almost always perish after three agonising weeks.”

“Thank you for the lesson.” Apexus lightly lowered his head.

The student returned with the test quickly. It was just three pages long, all of it the product of mass printing. Without another word, Apexus took the offered pen and began going through the questions. The first page was dedicated to alchemical history, the second to identifying the esoteric properties of various materials and the third posed a hypothetical and asked how it could be solved using alchemy.

Apexus went through it all slower than Alameus would have thought. They sat there for 30 minutes before the test was handed back and Alameus went through the answers. The first page was almost bereft of answers, but the second page was densely packed with esoteric connections and the third page…

Alameus, for the first time in a long time, looked at an alchemical diagram and had no idea what he was looking at. It was non-standard, but that wasn’t the problem. The approach to brewing was fundamentally different, so much more focused on what went into the creation of the potion than the Sleeping Empire’s tool-focused school of alchemy suggested.

“Why did you become an alchemist?” Alameus asked the single question that mattered.

“To utilise my free time in a uniquely helpful way.”

Not power, not research, not money, just pure utilitarianism. Alameus licked his lips greedily. An alchemist of such a disposition was almost never found in the Sleeping Empire and those few that had it typically lacked creativity alongside ambition. “What… exactly did you wish to achieve by baiting me into a conversation?”

“I have two desires.” Apexus placed his hands flat on the table. “If your institution would see it fit, I would like your support in organising a ball. I will use it to announce my party’s intention to stay clear of all political missions.”

Alameus reclined in his chair, then softly shook his head. “In a vacuum, I cannot agree with that. The guild is quite important. We need good reasons to involve ourselves.”

“My second and greater desire is to learn.” Apexus was unperturbed by the denial. “Let me study your instruments and recipes to be inspired by what was done before. In return, I will share with you my ideas and parts of myself.”

“…Is that a metaphor, or…?” Alameus began, then violently twitched in his seat.

Apexus placed the fingernail he had just ripped from his membrane on the table. He shaped the wound into a greater view of his insides, the bones and the blue slime around it. Strong as he was now, he was confident he could advertise the value of his body without a Hunter coming for his core. “I am not a normal organism,” the Omniverse Chimera stated. “I am Apexus, head of the Inevitable party. Use your connections to look into my records in the Adventurer’s Guild.”

“…I shall…” Alameus bent over the table and picked up the crystalline fingernail. Regardless of origin (or specifically because of it), a rare ingredient was a rare ingredient. “If I am convinced, how can I find you?”

Apexus turned to Yuzuki, who rose from the couch. “If it would agree with you, we would be staying by the patent office?” Alameus began to open his mouth, but Yuzuki clarified swiftly. “By – not in. We possess a Mobile Estate, you see?”

“I… see…”

“Gifted by Divine Hand Maltos to his last student,” Yuzuki added almost casually.

Alameus’ hand hung open for one uncontrolled second. “You are welcome to stay by the patent office!” he assured immediately. “Once I have verified your identity, I will send word about our continued hosting of such honoured guests.”

What a few words could do.