Rory looked up and felt the beginnings of a summer rain pitter and platter down onto his face. Incognito as a local farmer boy, the troops on both sides had mostly left him alone. He was looking—looking for the Roniceri he had lost. The masked girl, whose assassination of the enemy general very well may have caused his recent victory on the hills near Sym. It was his orders that had gotten her into this mess, and he figured he may as well get her out.

He had looked in the obvious areas already—jails, prisons. And then, he searched the areas of where the Commander in Chief, Prince Marcus may have been. But alas, he had yet to find either of them.

The rain was starting to pick up. He nudged his hat into a closer fit. There was one last place he hadn't bothered to look: a great Cathedral, located in the southern side of Ien. It was an old structure, made to worship gods that had been mostly abandoned by the local populace in the recent years. Of course, it was a startling piece of architecture, and was one of the city's proudest features. There was one small problem: it was on the enemy's side. The recapture had been swift and relatively painless by the Vyncis forces, or at least the parts that he had seen, but they, following his orders, were methodical and safe. It would be another few hours before they reached the southern quarters.

But it was the one building of major importance that he had yet to look in.

He shrugged; swords were not a particular threat to him, though he could only use Chronos once. Arrows were a bit more problematic, but the Aklan's were not evidently a society that favored Archery. He hoped his civilian appearance would stave off any unwanted violence, and went forwards, towards the Cathedral.

The rain had picked up now, and his feet splashed against the thin layer of running water that formed atop some of the muddier streets. He could hear gunshots and screams off in the distance, but thankfully not near him. If the others knew what he was doing, he'd certainly get an earful.

Wide doors adorned with intricate mosaics soon popped into view. Rory's pant legs were drenched, and they cuffed against his legs, but he gave them no mind. He slipped into the entryway.

As soon as he entered, a voice boomed through. "Rory Vyncis, I presume?"

Rory looked up; a youth, dressed in ceremonial military attire looked down on him from the platform that the altar sat on.

And on his left, his hands held a handful of blonde hair leading down to a prim face. It was a girl, dressed in black fatigues. A mask lay forgotten to the left. Her face was bloodied and bruised. She had a small, resigned smile.

Rory felt the rage building... but then, he took another look at the face. It seemed familiar, somehow. But to be honest, he didn't know that many people, and certainly not that many girls of his age. Where had he seen this face? He walked through his memories... she wasn't a villager in Sym... she wasn't an acquaintance from the capital... what else had he done? The orphanage... the orphanage...

"...Sarra!?" he cried. There's no way, it couldn't be—!

Marcus took a vile out from a pocket. "Rory, she has been poisoned. And only—"

"You fucker!"

Marcus felt a shudder go through him. The next moment, Rory held him down by the neck and was pouring the liquid in the vial down his throat.

"Antidote. Now."

Marcus coughed and then smirked. "No."

Rory slammed his head back against the ground. "You will die if you do not bring it out."

"You will not give it to me. I know this. I will die, but I shall make you as miserable as possible." He began to laugh, a maniacal laugh of someone broken. The utter embarrassment at Sym had not been kind to him.

Rory took Marcus' sword, which had fallen to the side, and stabbed him in the gut, giving it a few turns for good measure.

"Answer me!"

"There is... no antidote... my alchemist made sure of it... she will die within the hour..." he coughed. "Suffer, Rory. Suffer."

Rory fell to his knees. He crawled over to where Sarra laid on the ground.

"No... no..."

Sarra turned her head over slowly, spying him through swollen eyes. "Hey, there."

"I thought... I thought you were dead..."

She shook her head slowly. "Got kidnapped by some noble asshole. Hah! Gave us some useful tools, though..."

"Why... why didn't you tell me!? Why!? I wouldn't have, I wouldn't have sent you out!"

"I don't need you sheltering me."

Tears were falling from his eyes now, landing on her face. He stroked her cheek. "I just had to find out now... damn it! Illan, you fucking traitorous lying cunt ass—!" He broke off into a scream. "This is a joke, right. You're joking. Please."

"Rory..."

"Did... did you forgive me? For leaving you behind?"

She smiled, slowly and painfully. "Yes, I did."

He felt so powerless; so helpless. It was... strange. There was nothing he could do... nothing at all. Just sit here, and watch her die. His first friend here in the future. Watch his first friend die, here, cut and bruised, blood all over her face.

He remembered another time when he felt powerless.

He remembered, sitting there, watching Rosa be taken away.

What did he do? He did something about it. He vowed to do something—to have the resolve to do something.

His eyes spotted the vial; there was still some liquid left. He stuck it to his nose and took a whiff. It was faint, but... bitter almonds! It's a solution of hydrogen cyanide. The gears in his brain began to turn at once.

"Hey, Rory... I'm going to die anyway, so here goes... when you first got here—"

Cyanide is used commonly for industrial mining and metal treatment. Hydrogen cyanide is a common byproduct. The most common cure-all antidote was hydroxocobalamin, but hydroxocobalamin was a complex polymer... there was no way for me to procure it...

"You looked kinda cute. Had a cute accent too. Then we took you out on our 'missions'... I regretted that to this day..."

Which leaves the older antidote, sodium thiosulfate. It was, at least, a relatively simple molecule...

"You should've seen Gilas' face when you up and teleported. Then you came back with, what, 50 gild or something?"

I needed a chemical reaction... a chemical reaction...

"We got a little cocky. Kept stealing from bigger and bigger targets. Should've just staid back, laid low... Oh, I'm so sorry. It was our fault... we were the ones that got caught in the first place..."

Aqueous sodium hydroxide with sulfur! That was the industrial method, it surely worked now...

"We thought you were dead... me, Gilas, we were so guilt stricken... we killed you..."

Where can I get sodium hydroxide? Sodium hydroxide... sodium hydroxide... wait, that was lye! Soap! If I can find where they make soap...

"Without you, we didn't have any more money... that noble bastard came over and bought the orphanage... He told us that he would relocate the other children if we cooperated... he told us that you were alive! And a noble. Well, how's that! Little Rory was still alive, and he was living the high life..."

Where the hell do I get sulfur? I have sulfur mines contracted, but there is no way I can get a shipment in time. Sulfur, sulfur... damn it! So close!

"He put these things in our heads... he did something while we slept..."

Where do I get sulfur!? Sulfur! I. Just. Need. Sulfur. Sulfur... sulfur... Gunpowder! It's 3% sulfur!

"We tracked you... or at least, I did. Damn if I didn't want to punch that stupid guy's face in. What was his name? Myell or something? But I shouldn't interfere in your life, not yet, he said..."

Separate sulfur... charcoal is less dense than water, it should float. Sulfur is more. Saltpeter is more too... But what the hell, I don't have time for this! Just try it! She'll die anyway, saltpeter won't make it any worse!

"You're different, Rory... you were different... but still, I was sad when proposed to that girl... I don't know when it started, but I... I lo—"

"Wait a second! I have something I need to do!" Rory exclaimed, standing up.

Sarra weakly raised an arm towards him. "Please... just stay with me..." She could feel her vision fading...

But he had run off already.

Rory took a bucket from the stable and continued on his way. There was plenty enough gunpowder around, he just needed the lye. Soap, soap. Where did they make soap? Many rural households made their own, Rory knew that, but the city folk would need to purchase them. He knocked on a nearby door. After inspecting their guest, it opened, a rather gruff man answering.

"Where do they make soap, here?"

"Soap? Why'd you need to know that?"

"My parents are soap-makers. With the war, I wish to ensure their safety," Rory lied.

"Oh. The building next to the textile guild. From here, go straight. It'll be on the right."

Rory nodded and headed off. He transitioned into a run; Faster, faster! It was a race against time. Time? He looked down at his wrist; he had already used Chronos once today. He was too afraid of either damaging the device to stress test it, and had limited it's usage to once per day. Well, who cares. He slammed the button down, and everything at once began to slow to a stop.

The building was not too far away, and soon Rory raced into it. He searched the shelves, scanning until he found what he was looking far: a jar conveniently labeled as raw lye. The first piece found, he had run off to find gunpowder when he began to feel heat coming from his wrist, and soon the world came back into motion. Time, time! I need more time!

He had no idea what would happened if he was to force Chronos to run again without letting it cool down, but he didn't particularly care right now. The world began to slow back into comfortable stagnation.

He looted a gunpowder horn from a nearby fallen soldier and ran back to the Cathedril's kitchen. Chronos held up well enough, though it had begun to melt through the skin on his wrist, blood and pus oozing down his hands, but he didn't particularly care about that either. He had to turn it off now, however, in order for the chemical reaction to actually occur.

He filled a pot with water and poured the gunpowder into it. While the sulfur and saltpeter settled, he grabbed another pot, filled it somewhat with water, and set the lye into it. Then, with a pair of flint and striker he set a flame in one of the kitchen's oven pits. He kept sneaking looks into the main hall; Sarra's eyes were closed now, but that could be for any number of reasons. He had to keep going.

Enough powder had settled at the bottom. He scooped the charcoal off the top and carefully poured the water out, collecting the remainder with a pan. He set the pot with aqueous lye onto the flame and placed the powder into it. He merely had to wait until it boiled.

Oh shit...

He just remembered—the reaction also created sodium sulfide, which would react with the stomach acid to make hydrogen sulfide, and hydrogen sulfide is just as bad as the bloody cyanide! Wait—sodium sulfide is soluble in alcohol, but sodium thiosulfate isn't...

He grabbed some hard spirits from a shelf, poured it into a bottle, poured his precipitate from before in, and stirred. The powder that didn't dissolve should be sodium thiosulfate! He poured the alcohol out, grabbed another bottle, poured water in it, and make a solution of aqueous sodium thiosulfate.

This was it! The antidote!

He rushed over to her and began to shake her gently, causing her to moan. Still alive! She was knocked out, however. No helping it—he poured the solution into his own mouth, and pressed his lips to hers, forcing the liquid down her throat in a very unromantic process. The liquid tasted like some strange mixture of pig fat, alcohol, and wood.

It was up to luck, now. He unbuttoned her shirt, took it off, and pressed his ear to her breast.

The Vyncis forces had taken over almost the entire city by now. Having noticed that Rory was missing hours ago, the Roniceri had gone on a search. Finally, they found him, crouched over with his ear on the breast of the masked girl they knew as Eris. They appeared in front of him, but didn't speak a word. It was not the appropriate time. They stood there, waiting, for almost an hour.

Finally, he stood up, slowly.

His hair hung over his eyes, wet from the rain outside. "She's..."

They steeled themselves.

"She's..."

He looked over at them, his eyes partly visible.

"Still breathing!"

---

Alright, if you did that in real life, not enough sodium sulfide would dissolve and you would kill yourself with hydrogen sulfide. So don't do that.