Chapter 10: A New Gift

Iron-vine root smelled almost exactly like blood.

Not just blood, but fresh blood, metallic and earthy like it was just spilled onto the ground.

It… it wasn’t his favorite smell.

It brought back memories, one particular memory actually, and nothing about it was something Ken liked to think of. He certainly didn’t need help bringing back something he still had nightmares over, anyway.

His likes or dislikes didn’t matter much though, because iron-vine was a common smell in the shop. They couldn’t afford not to have some constantly ready, considering Scarlet Tonic was a common purchase, and iron-vine was the base ingredient in that specific serum. He’d grown used to it by now, anyway, years and years of it allowing Ken to ignore it half the time.

Half the time included now as the scent drifted through the air, the aroma coming from the pot on the hearth bubbling constantly behind him. More than anything, the young apprentice of Wei’s Apothecary had better things to think about than old memories as he sat at his own little workstation with his eyes firmly on a heavy, leather-bound book on alchemy, one of many with a snake on the cover.

Ancient pages made from thick yellowed paper held recipes so complicated he still barely understood them after three whole years, but Ken read them anyway. After all, that was the only way he was going to get anywhere and, more than that, he could almost swear that the words on them seemed to make more sense every day that passed.

Even now, his fingers, barely trembling at all, traced the intricate lines of a symbol for purification, the page across from that showing a detailed illustration of a bundle of gold-leaved roots.

The soft shuffling of cloth shoes on worn wood reached his ears, the sound familiar. Ken didn’t look up, though. He didn’t need to, the presence behind him could only be one person and he doubted he was wrong. Master…

That wasn’t what left his mouth.

“Old Wei,” the nickname slipped out the way it often did, more than anything else, Ken’s voice still low and respectful. Even with the address, he didn’t turn around, all his focus still on the complex script of the book. Mourning Silk powder needs a binding agent, sure, he knew that much, but the book said a water-base would dilute the qi in it. Oil, maybe? But which kind?

A few seconds passed, with the old alchemist silent despite Ken’s greeting.

Ken blinked as the quiet stretched on, actually confused as it went on just long enough for it to feel strange, the bubbling from the hearth suddenly too loud. Maste-

A soft hand came to a gentle rest on his shoulder. The feeling of it was warm, as Wei always was, but there was a strange stillness in the touch; not the usual light, passing gesture.

No, this had a heaviness to it, more deliberate and serious than Wei almost ever was.

What is… The fifteen-year-old finally looked up, turning around to face his master with a question on his lips.

Wei’s round, friendly face stared back at him, the usual smile still there, but…

“Master?”

It didn’t reach his eyes this time. “Good morning, Kenshi.” No, the purple gaze of his master held a different light today.

“…good morning, master?”

“You up early.” Wei’s voice was a little softer than Ken remembered it, the sing-song cadence drawn out for some reason, like the old man was tasting each word just a little more. “You study hard. Good, good.” Ken blinked as that heavy hand on his shoulder squeezed, a tight grip that almost hurt, before Wei set him free. “I must go out. An important errand.”

A familiar, slight disappointment pricked at him, settling in his chest like one of the dense herbal pills he had helped Wei make over the years. You just left two weeks ago. The thought came with that same disappointment thickening and condensing, the feeling inside him hardening like a rock.

Yes, it was selfish, he knew that. But Ken couldn’t deny that he hated everytime Old Wei headed out and left him behind in the shop. The city was still a big, scary, unknown thing, a hungry beast just outside the door, and the thought of being alone with nothing but wooden walls to protect him from the world outside them…

Ken gripped his fingers tight into fists to keep from shaking again. “…for ingredients, Old Wei?”

“For something better.” Those purple eyes almost seemed to flash as they looked at him, Ken staring right into those eyes he used to have to look up at.

Wh… no? The idea of letting himself believe it was almost too much, Ken unsure if he could even allow himself to hope. He can’t… he can’t mean…

“…master?” The apprentice leaned in a little, voice dropping to a whisper as his master’s long white beard brushed his skin, the smell of dried herbs coming off the old man suddenly too strong for his nose.

“When I return… I have gift for you, Kenshi. A special gift.”

The alchemist paused, letting the words hang in the air.

“It will change your life. Forever.”

Change your life.

He could feel the hair on his arms stand up as those words ran through his head. My life… Years of careful patience and practiced calm trained into him by Wei burned away, almost all of it replaced by a desperate frantic energy he hadn’t felt since… since he was twelve. The fix.

The thought might as well have been a shout the way it echoed in his skull. The… the fix.

The dark-green drink every single night for three years; the bitter tonic that hardened his bones, and thickened his skin, but never touched the core of the problem. The failed rituals with the silent stone and the itchy paste; every single part of the last three years he and Wei had spent rebuilding his body from the outside in.

The old man had done his best, but nothing he’d tried had ever managed to touch the part of him deep down.

The part that stayed empty.

Stayed hungry.

He’d read the texts; dozens of them Wei had all over the place, each and everyone of them all about the body and energy flows and all the things he needed to know.

After all, he didn’t have much else to do but read them.

In different ways, all of those books said the same thing, pretty much; that a healthy root was a living thing, and an especially healthy one was supposed to be especially alive, sprouting like a real plant the more you used and mastered qi. Eventually, it would grow out like a tree into healthy meridians and sub-meridians, each one capable of drawing in the world’s energy, the world’s qi, to grow strong.

His own…

Ken clenched his fists. His was pretty much dead, shriveled up and useless. All the bitter medicine was just watering the dirt, hoping something would happen.

He thought of being strong, of not having to fight his own body half the time, of the shakes being gone for good…

It was a dream so old and so deeply buried he’d almost forgotten how to have it. I wanna walk outside, iinto the noise and the stink and the people. I wanna see the city.

More than that, he wanted not to have to count every breath.

Ken tried to keep his face calm but he couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his lips, the feeling unstoppable as it pulled at muscles he barely used. “A gift?” His words spilled out of his mouth, faster than he could manage them. “Is it… is it the thing you were working on? For my root?”

One warm hand patted the side of his face, Wei chuckling as if Ken had just said something funny. The touch was as gentle as it was grounding, but it didn’t do a thing to calm the storm inside him.

Three years of waiting. If Old Wei could actually fix it now…

“Patience, patience.” Another pat to the cheek came with those words. “Good alchemist does not rush steps.”

The answer wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no. For now, that was enough.

Wei’s hands reached for the small, dark satchel hanging by the door, the thing placed over one shoulder. “Kenshi…” The alchemist turned around, friendly crinkles around his eyes smoothing out as the man suddenly became serious.

“Master?”

“Now, you listen,” The warmth was gone, the sing-song gentleness almost nowhere at all in Old Wei’s voice. This was the other voice, the one his master used when explaining a particularly dangerous alchemical reaction, the one that meant a mistake could cost a hand or an eye. “Lock this door behind me. Use the big bolt. You hear?”

“Y-yes, Old Wei.”

“You let no one in. No one. Not for any reason.” Purple eyes scanned the dark corners of the shop, as if seeing things that Ken couldn’t. “City today is hungry. Hungry and full of vengeful spirits.”

Ken stared his master in the face, those purple eyes making it hard for him to look away as the old man patted the door. “This door… you keep lock, until you hear me knock. Three slow, two fast, three slow. You understand?”

Thump… thump… thump. Thump-thump. Thump… thump… thump. “I understand, master.” Ken had already put the pattern firmly in his memory, locking it in tight. A simple rule. He was good at following rules.

Wei gave him one last, long look, a look that felt strangely sad for some reason.

Then, just as quickly, it was gone, the crinkles returning to the corners of his eyes as his master smiled back at him “Good boy.”

Without another word, the old man walked out, the thick wooden door slamming shut in the apprentice’s face.

…okay. Ken let out a low breath and dropped the heavy iron bar into place with a heavy and solid thunk, the sound of it echoing in the quiet room. With a grunt of efford, he pulled on the heavy iron bolt and slid the thing firmly to the right above the bar.

Another low breath left him as his back slapped against the door, the sound nearly as loud as the door lock. Alone again.

But he didn’t feel lonely.

No, he felt electric.

His feet hit the ground with quick steps as he crossed the length of the room, from the door to the front desk. All nervous energy and nothing to do with it, he turned around and walked back, covering the entire length of the room in ten quick strides. I can’t…

He couldn’t.

I can’t…

Believe it, at least.

Wei had never sounded so sure before. In three years, three whole years of trying, the old man had been clear with his ‘attempts’ and ‘we’ll see’s’ and ‘something to trys’. As much as his master knew, Old Wei had done his best to avoid getting his hopes up. Pretty much everything they had tried were just tests.

But this…

This didn’t sound like any test.

Ken’s soft-soled shoes whispered with every step on the worn floorboards as he crossed the room for the half-dozenth time. I’m gonna be…

He didn’t want to imagine it yet, no point giving himself more hope if it didn’t work. But Ken knew very well that what he wanted almost never mattered, because he could already see it every time he closed his eyes.

Finally walking outside into the grimy streets of the city, no worries or fear about everything his master had told him. No worries with that power inside him; real power making him stand tall with his body his own, and the shakes gone forever.

His brown eyes trailed the room; bundles of herbs hanging everywhere,  heavy books lining the shelves, all the way to the still bubbling pots simmering in the back room.

This was his world.

And it was about to change.

I’m gonna be strong.