Various pots and pans, cheese cloths, stones, oil, mortar and pestle, ropes, firewood. Corco's eyes gazed over the collection of their new acquisitions. Finally, they landed on the loaned donkey cart which had carried all of it here. It was too strange. How had there not been any horses in Etra? In fact, he had never even seen a horse, not once in his life. Even so, he was keenly aware of their existence, and their importance for human advancement. So where were they?

Corco shook his head and the confusing thoughts with it. For now, there was still more work to be done. He grabbed the mortar and pestle and looked towards the bonfire they had erected on top of a small hill. By now they were most of the way to their goal, but they wouldn't move in on the cache until they had prepared. Thus, they had set up camp early and begun burning a fire throughout the evening. He walked over to the man who had been feeding the flames with the cheap, green firewood, silhouetted against the orange glow.

“How's it going?” Corco asked Fadelio's shadow. The giant warrior stopped shoveling the branches into the flames and looked to the left instead, towards a second bonfire one hill over.

“The flies are still there. Maybe we could take them in a night raid. If you could just give me two more men this would be no problem.”

“But we don't have more men. Still, it's not like there's no hope.” Corco tried to sound optimistic before he pressed the mortar into the warrior's chest. On reflex, Fadelio dropped the branches and held onto the stone bowl, confusion written across his face.

“We're done with the fire,” Corco explained, “All we need is the ashes anyways, so we should have more than enough already. I'll start making the lye once cousin is back. In the meantime, you can go ahead and prepare our backup plan.”

“Which is?” The erratic flames played frightening shadows on the man's face, but Corco was unimpressed. He knew of his loyalty, and his honest nature.

“Stone grinding. You take that soapstone over there and grind it to bits.”

The mountain nodded weakly, before he returned to his senses and tensed up.

“Wait, all of it? By myself?”

“Of Course.” Corco looked back over to the mountain of pebbles they had collected on their way here. “Are you expecting me to do that? Just look at the volume. My arms are gonna fall off. Be careful though and wear some cloth over your face. I'm serious. The powder you'll make from grinding is a potent weapon... at least potent enough.”

“Finally some clarity from the great oracle!” Atau complained from behind. Under heavy breathing, he labored the last few steps up the hill before he dropped the two water-laden pots with a groan.

“So what do we do with all that water, oh wise one?”

“No need to insult Prince Corco just because you have no strength,” Fadelio chimed in.

“You wanna see what my strength can do, mountain gorilla!?”

“Stop!” Corco's shout put an end to their bickering before they could get going. “If you're itching for a fight, you can look ahead to tomorrow. We'll have to fight harder than even you would want. You wanna get injured, right before our life is on the line?”

“This servant apologizes.” “I wasn't really trying to fight or anything...” Even though they spoke over each other, it was obvious which words had come from which man.

“Right. Let's focus, shall we? Brym, how's the second fire looking?”

“Burning well!” To answer Corco's shout, Brym's voice came from the other side of the flames, where the boy had been making a smaller, cleaner and more controlled fire with the better firewood they had bought. This one wouldn't be used for ashes. They needed it for evaporation.

“Right, let's get to work then,” the prince said with a frown. He was still unsure if any of today's preparations would prove useful. He just hoped he wasn't crazy.

As the large bonfire began to burn down, the four merchants had taken seat around the smaller flames. By now, a pot had been placed on top, filled with water. They were in the process of preparing a second batch. Brym held the empty pot and Corco fastened the cheesecloth over it. Meanwhile, Atau did his best not to spill any of the murky water onto their hands.

“Isn't this just dirty water? What is throwing ash into perfectly good river water gonna do for us?”

“You're not wrong. It's just water with ash. But ash contains potassium carbonate... at least the kind of ash we just made does. We put the ash in the water, which dissolves the potassium... just like how salt would dissolve in water as well. Then strain it through the cloth and filter out everything else. You're left with only the solution. Evaporate the water and only lye is left. It's called leaching.”

Finally, Atau had finished his pour and put the emptied pot to the side.

“That's all well and good, but what are we gonna do with that lye of yours?”

“Lye is an excellent, or let's say terrible, skin irritant.” He looked at his two companions who stared at him with a dull look, so Corco cleared his throat in embarrassment. He had to be mindful of using too many strange words. “Lye makes for a pretty good weapon. Blow some into a warrior's face and he'll be out of the fight. Permanently if he's unlucky. It's gonna burn his eyes right out of his skull. That's the plan.”

“Oh? Excuse this servant, but where would the stones come into play? This servant has no habit of complaint, however...”

Fadelio shouted from some ways away. Both his forearms were snow-white at this point, covered by the white powder he had been producing from the stone all this time.

“It's an insurance... a backup plan, in case I'm wrong about the lye. What you're making is talcum powder. The effects are similar enough, but it's much less potent.” Corco lectured with a raised finger.

“Not to be rude, but how do you know all of this stuff anyways? Isn't that something only an alchemist should be privy to?” Atau asked.

“...I'm not too sure myself. I'm really just gambling. Though if we want to have any kind of future, we'll have to gamble anyways.” The prince replied with a look towards the fire on the other hill. “Let's see if we've been wasting our time.”

Corco really wasn't too eager, but at this point, they had completed just about every other part of his plan. Everything apart from checking on the pot over the fire. Even though he dreaded to see the results, there was no more reason for delay. It was time to look into the pot and see if any of the wisdom in his head was actually real, or if he had imagined everything, a desperate hallucination of his mind, hellbent on preventing his suicide. As he moved in on the pot, Corco's steps got shorter and shorter. Finally, he faked courage and made a last, large stride to peek into the container. There was still a final sliver of water bubbling in its bottom, but with narrowed eyes, through the flickering of the bonfire, Corco could see what he had been hoping for.

A thin, white crust had formed on the sides of the pot. Carefully, with trembling hands, Corco picked up a twig and scraped off some of the material. He carefully brought it up to his nose and smelled the odor he had expected. Nothing. He took it over to the oils he had prepared in a bowl and began to swirl the stick around in the mixture, until the powder had disappeared. Under the curious eyes of his three friends, Corco took a small sample of the mix and rubbed it between his fingers. The soapy texture was all too familiar too him. His hopes were fulfilled.

“Lye!” Corco's eyes shot open in realization. He jumped up, his shocked friends backing off to give the prince some room. The prince, in turn, began to shout and jump around in oblivious joy, his hands flailing in the late evening air, as he created dancing shadows all around the three paralyzed onlookers.

“Laqhis, you alright?” he heard from a worried Atau. Of course they would worry. His behavior had been erratic all day and this did nothing to alleviate their concerns. Still, he just couldn't help himself. Not with what this confirmation meant. The knowledge in his head, it was real. Some of it at least, maybe most of it. Even though the corners of Corco's mouth were still trending up, he tried to reign in his happiness. It was time to come clean about his experience and for that he needed to be calm. His friends had blindly followed for long enough. They deserved answers.

Corco reorganized his messy clothes and came back over to his friends.

“Stop what you're doing. You too Fadelio. Just... drop the rock. Take a seat everyone. There's something I have to tell you.”

Soon, the group had huddled around the fire. Brym, the only one of the four who wasn't a cultivator, moved closer to the flames and drew his shirt tight to his body in defense against the fresh spring wind. Corco looked over the fire, to the people he trusted more than anyone in the world, and began his explanation.

“Yesterday night, I almost did something... stupid. Something irreversible.”

“At least you understand.” His cousin's annoyed voice rang from across the flames, something Corco chose to ignore.

“At the time, I couldn't find a way out. It felt like we were cursed. But, as I was about to take my life, only moments away, a miracle happened. And I saw... something.”

“What was it?” It was Brym's voice this time, full of curiosity.

“I'm not sure, to be honest. I saw... many things. Things which don't exist in this world, or at least not yet. I saw the life of a man from a different time or a different space. Maybe I lived through that life before, through reincarnation... or maybe a second spirit entered this body; and now the two of us are one and the same? Fuck, I have no clue.” Frustrated, he looked down onto his hands, which were now clutching the letter he had written yesterday, the suicide note. He hadn't even realized when he had taken it out.

“But you are still... you?” Carefully, the curious Brym posed the question the two others were too polite or too afraid to ask.

“...I don't know. I'm different, at least. Even if no foreign soul has... influenced mine, all the memories, all the knowledge I've received... it changed me, it had to. After all, we are nothing but memories plus predisposition.”

“And that's it? The great reveal? You're expecting us to just believe that? What, did Pacha itself embrace you and impart the wisdom of the worlds?” Atau's words were snide, but his voice lacked sharpness. Of course he wasn't ready to believe what Corco had said. If their roles had been reversed, he wouldn't have believed his cousin either.

“So what about all the stuff in my head? Atom bombs, Internet, calculus, world wars... what about the lye, and the soapstone? You asked me how I knew about these things and this is the answer. Honestly, you don't have to believe me. It really doesn't matter where I got any of this stuff from. The only thing that matters is that I know. After last night, I know more than any other man in this world... and I have learned that knowledge is a weapon. It will be our weapon of choice, to return everything that has been taken from us. To return Master's company, to return the favor to the duke, return the land that has been stolen from me.

“But I cannot do this alone. No matter how much I know, all wisdom will be useless until it becomes reality. For this, I need your help, again, like so many times before. In return, I can guarantee you the grandest, most emphatic lives any men have ever lived. We, just us four, will change the world. Forever.”

He looked around the fire, at the men and boy who had grown quiet at Corco's solemn speech. Slowly, the prince stood up, and without a word the others followed his example.

“Before the stars in the sky, I, Corcopaca Titu Pluritac, swear on the blood of my ancestors. To lead you, protect you, provide you. To guide you to the promised land, the future.”

An oath, almost the one a Medala lord would take when he accepted new warriors into his household. Yet at the same time, it was so different. Not a promise of blood and honor, but a promise of protection, a promise of the blinding future only Corco could see.

“Fadelio di Pluritac accepts the oath, and swears eternal fealty, through the depths and into the sky.”

The warrior had gone through the oath before, just before they had been forced to leave Medala for Arcavia, so he knew the words well. He repeated them with his usual sincerity.

“Atau di Pluritac accepts the oath and swears eternal fealty, through the depths and into the sky.” Atau Saqartu, second son of the southern governor of Medala, had made his choice as well. A smile formed on Corco's lips. The prince had known his cousin would follow along. He had always had his back, no matter how much he liked to complain.

“Uhm... Brymstock di Pluritac swears fealty, through the depths and to the sky.”

Frank laughter followed Brym's uncertain voice.

“Close enough, kid,” Atau joked. Corco looked back down onto the crumpled note he was still holding in his hand, while Brym's complaints about his cousin's teasing rang around him. He still didn't understand the true nature of last night's vision. Had his body been taken over by someone else? Was this an isekai-ing? No, the man in his memories hadn't been killed by a truck. For now it wouldn't matter. He finally had found the way to fight back, to oppose the fate he had been cursed with, and to build a system, build a world beyond the one his other self had despised right until his death. Refreshed at the thought, Corco tossed the letter into the fire. He wouldn't need it any longer.