A twisting passageway underneath the palace, past the rusted prison walls, led to an ancient chamber door, unused for long and unknown to many. Beyond it was a room amongst numerous in the palace's underground maze.

A strapping figure sporting a salt-and-grey beard was accompanied by a young child. As they navigated adeptly through the labyrinth, the child shuddered at the sight of the prison cells, though the elderly figure dispensed with notice. After various turns and twists, the pair finally reached the primeval chamber door. The adolescent saw the old figure insert an ancient key into the keyhole, turned it, and the door opened to a huge space lit by various torches in equally spaced sconces around the chamber edge. There was already a lean man within.

"Are you certain this will work, Ellydian?" King Arcturius Nighvicto asked, his tone curt. He entered the chamber, folding his arms as he eyed the slimmer man.

"There are no guarantees in life, as there are no guarantees in magic, oh King. Especially not in the magic I practise. I trust that you are fully cognizant of the covenant?"

The King made no response to the sorcerer's question, the latter's tone tinged with minute sarcasm. If Arcturius Nighvicto had taken offense, he chose not to show it.

"That being said, I am the best person to carry out this covenant to its intended outcome. Perhaps, the only one." The sorcerer continued with a tint of relish in his words.

The King clasped two fingers under his chin, giving Ellydian a hard look. "The sorcerer's pride once again rears its ugly head. I only hope, for your sake, that you live up to it."

"Oh but this sorcerer is not your ordinary runt from the Guild, Conqueror King. My time at the Guild is as old as the Cabal themselves. Few will know me, few will remember, and few bother to. But, I have left my mark, in my own way."

"The archmagus Ellydian Einsworth. Some say Ellydian the Maverick, or even Ellydian the Eccentric. But you are also known as the Master of Alchemy." The King responded.

The sorcerer waved his hand in casual disregard. "Titles mean nothing to me. You might even say that being the Master of Alchemy gave me my label of eccentricity. Such ignorance from these naysayers - Alchemy is not a second-rate art. It is an art of sheer patience; the likes of which virtually all at the Guild had little to speak of. That was why I left the darned place."

"Alchemy has fallen behind, belittled and underestimated. Long before, there was High Magic, there was Tallis Magic, and there was Alchemy. The trinity of magical arts. Now, all the old dodders preach are the former two. An insult. Thence I am here to exalt it once again."

The archmagus snapped his fingers. "Now, I believe my subject is this charming boy here?"

The King beckoned to a raven-haired boy of twelve who had followed him to the chamber. "Zenvix, do as you are told."

Ellydian's eyes narrowed hesitantly upon hearing the name. "You are sure you ought to do this? An unproven experiment on your own boy? The heir of Nox?"

"Questioning your sponsor is outside the covenant, archmagus. Need I remind you that to fulfill the....requirements of your experiment as per the agreement, I have lost many capable soldiers and Magi from my forces?"

"Besides," The king continued, "You are the great Ellydian, Master of Alchemy. Surely you have calculated the odds before putting your reputation on the line for this experiment?" he finished shrewdly.

Ellydian said nothing. Instead, he pointed a finger at the chamber's midsection, where a queer diagram has been drawn on the ground, consisting of four circles joint by jagged lines, while bound by a larger circle. "Zenvix, can you step into the smaller circle at the centre please?"

The boy looked nervously at his father once, before doing as the man told.

"Each of the circles joint to the centre holds a relic, two of which you have agreed to hunt for. The forelegs of a Shadow Stalker, and the heart of an Ayris Lion." The archmagus remarked.

"And yet, I am still painfully in the dark on why such...prized components are required. Many a life were lost battling these dangerous creatures. You owe me an explanation, Ellydian." The King said pointedly.

Ellydian sighed. "A price must be paid for power, King Nighvicto. The Shadow Stalker is one of the swiftest creatures known to walk this realm. How else do you think it has earned its name? The Ayris Lion is an apex predator in one of the harshest and most hostile environments in the known world, the Zandu Jungle. Its resilience and dominance will aid the subject's survival, during and after this experiment."

"The quintessential elements of speed and durability have been represented, both of which are critical to achieving the end game of this trial." The archmagus continued.

"Of course, I am sure I need not explain in depth why the last relic is needed? It is one that contains an inextricable and ancient link to the roots of Alchemy. A piece of the Founder himself - five fingernails belonging to the late progenitor of Alchemy, Varnus. A relic that took me great pains to find."

Arcturius Nighvicto remained silent even as he acknowledged the archmagus's words.

"Now," Ellydian continued, "King Nighvicto it is my solemn duty to remind you that our covenant is non-guaranteed. The infusion of magic to change the state or properties of matter is a sacred tenet of Alchemy that can have unpredictable and varied results. This is made all the more so by the fact that the object of Alchemy is a living organism. While precautions are in place, dire consequences are not unthinkable."

"Simply put, your boy could die." The archmagus warned. "Do you wish to proceed?"

A short pause ensued as the King locked eyes with the sorcerer.

".....Carry on."

Ellydian took a deep breath, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "The moment is finally here. To create an instrument of Alchemy with Alchemy. How quaint."

The archmagus began his incantations in earnest. The air crackled and danced with strange bolts of energy as an intense wave of arcane pressure descended on the chamber.

With beads of perspiration trickling down his face, the archmagus withdrew from his robe pocket three glowing objects of amber, sapphire and crimson respectively. They looked like hard gems, but the faint ethereal aura that pulsed from these ball-like objects spoke otherwise.

Ellydian first took the crimson object in his other hand, and with a quick snap of his fingers, crushed it into dust.

"Rubrum". Opening his palm, the particles began to coalesce and intertwine before flying off in the direction of the Lion's Heart.

Hovering above the relic, they abruptly dissipated. Then a lightning bolt of pure crimson struck the relic zone, setting the circle line ablaze with frizzling electricity. The scarlet energy trailed the joint line to the centre circle, coloring it likewise with its blood-like hue.

The archmagus repeated his action for the remaining objects, uttering a single syllable for each activation. The centre circle pulsated with an overlapping of trinity colors, its sputtering of energy forming a cobweb of arcane threads that materialized into a sorcerous dome. The child within looked on in fear and trepidation.

The final act was nigh.

Ellydian took a moment to steady his breathing, his neatly swept hair now in disarray and slick with sweat. He interlocked his fingers tightly.

"Convergo."

Zenvix screamed as the dome shrunk rapidly, unravelling and funnelling itself within the only object it could find in the centre zone.

There was a moment's silence, and slowly, the arcane pressure began to lift. The boy thought he heard someone speaking during the throes of his blinding pain.

"The instrument of alchemy...nay, my King, the apparatus of rapid alchemy...it is finally born!"

⧪⧪⧪

Zenvix woke from his fitful sleep, a ray of dawn breaking in through the open window of his room.

A room? The prince thought, before jerking upright on his feather bed. A surge of pain tore through his right arm down to his blackened hand, which had already been encased in the magic-suppressing glove of Nox.

Darn it. Why am I here? Wasn't I at Merchant's Hill? And urghh...that dream." Zenvix reflected, his face cupped in his hands as fragments of memories from the past floated to the forefront of his mind. Ellydian, that cursed man. The pain he brought me...but his magic saved m-us as well. Without his teachings, this hand would have been useless.

Looking up, the prince scrutinized his surroundings. At the head of his bed, a corona of exquisite amber was suspended, its similarly golden draperies extending down across the four corners of the bed.

The floor had been meticulously carpeted with fine wool, woven with beautiful patterns of flowers and nature. In the centre, on top of a resplendent carpet of embroidered scarlet, a silver table of intricate carvings sat, with accompanying chairs.

On the wall across from him, various paintings were hung in precise alignment, spaced out equally side by side from each other. An illustration of a monarch sat benignly in front of her subjects, and beside it, a portrait of a bustling street filled with frolicking children and people.

As Zenvix's eyes shifted towards the third painting, the door abruptly opened. "You are awake." The prince's hand moved instinctively to his sword scabbard, only to realise it had been removed.

His eyes met with a familiar gaze of violet. "Took you long enough. I thought fighting the demoness knocked you out for good." Yurisiviel closed the door behind her, pulled a chair and sat with her slender legs crossed.

"Where are we?" Zenvix questioned.

In response, Yurisviel pointed to the embellished carpet of scarlet pinned underneath the centre table. A bolt of realization struck the prince.

"Ahhh...how could I have missed that. The symbol of Ceil." Sewn onto the centre of the carpet was the image of a golden balancing scale, crowned with a magnificent tiara. It was partially hidden by the silver table perched on top, but Zenvix could see it now.

The tiara might have been overlooked by a less worldly traveller, but the prince knew its significance well. Ceil is ruled, and always has been ruled, by female monarchs, or prime ministers for that matter.

It is said that since time immemorial, Ceil has always believed that a male leader would be much too aggressive and unruly to uphold the city's highest virtue - order.

Instead of ensuring order and peace within the walls, he would seek dominance outside of it. War begets war, ultimately bringing ruin to the prosperous nation. Hence the line of matriarchy has endured throughout the ages.

"We brought you here to Ceil - this is one of Minister Zila's royal guest rooms. You fainted after the demoness's death. I told you before that this black hand will be the death of you," Yurisviel chided, her eyes a familiar shade of concern.

"There wasn't a choice. The consequences were worse previously, so I must have acclimatized to some extent. Sorry I have been in a useless coma this whole time."

The warrior lady blinked, her eyes softening a few notches. "You were hardly useless. You slayed the demoness, or we would have been digesting in her stomach right now. If anyone were more useless, it would have been me. I was just raining blows on the demoness and expecting her to die."

Zenvix laughed, though the pain from his right hand hurt him. He realised he had been slashed across his back as well. "In a way, you resemble Jerius more than you will care to admit. Both of you love a direct brutal showdown. But then again, I couldn't have slayed her without your ceaseless assault. You pressured the demoness into revealing the confirmation I needed to act."

Yurisiviel crossed her arms quickly, biting her lip in a seemingly juvenile manner. She closed her amethyst eyes and darted her head away with irritation. "Shut up. I am nothing like him. Don't compare me to that arrogant toerag."

Zenvix sighed. "Calm down. You did well, all right? And thanks for bandaging me. I might have died in a gutter long ago without your careful administrations all this time."

"Glad you know." Yurisivel replied, a cheeky smile appearing on her face, accentuating the dimples that formed on each cheek.

A knock came on the door. "Prince Nighvicto, your humble servants request to enter," a refined, well-practised voice resounded through the oak. Perplexed, Zenvix looked at his lady retainer before verbalizing his assent.

Three men of varying stature stepped in, bowing simultaneously to the prince. It was impressive how two of them have perfectly balanced trays of food upon their upright palms even with their respectful bows, which extended ninety degrees forward. They were donned in servant's garb that seemed to signify their ranks, with the taller man in the middle wearing a sky blue attire while his juniors sported maroon.

"At our master's behest, we have brought bread, goat's cheese, pheasant, and our finest tea brewed from hand-picked Ceileen leaves, our nation's pride. We hope you will have a wonderful breakfast." The senior servant began by setting the table with a fine woven silk cloth of sunshine yellow, while his juniors arranged the food, plates, cutlery, tea and milk jugs with an adroitness that must have seen countless hours of deliberate practice.

The result was a breakfast arrangement that seemed almost like art. In a smooth fluid motion, the three servants bowed with mechanical precision, their bodies bending and retracting with impeccable sync, before they retreated respectfully out of the room.

The food, plates, utensils, jugs were all prepared and placed in a methodical, purposeful order, down to the equally sliced goat cheese and the facing of the jug handle. Nothing, not a human motion or an object, is out-of-place.

Zenvix had barely registered his astonishment before a second knock resounded. "Your Highness, may I please enter?" This time, it's a familiar mature voice he knew well.

"Dylas, you are here." The prince smiled.

The veteran knight was accompanied by a hooded man. "Ah, and Alvaro as well."

"You know, the sorcerer's actions changed my mind a little about him. Just a little." Yurisiviel remarked, her tone betraying a grudging note of affirmation. "While you were out cold, we were attacked by more of Magnus's men. They must have found his dead body and flew into a rage trying to find their leader's killer. We became unfortunate scapegoats, and you got slashed while Alvaro was defending you from a large gang of filthy bandits. He risked his life to protect you from further harm while your few soldiers and I tried to break us out of there."

Alvaro waved his hand in disregard. "It was nothing. We would have perished sooner if not for Zenvix's prowess."

"How is your wound, Your Highness?" Sir Dylas asked worriedly.

"Nothing to worry about, Dylas. Just a scratch across the back - Yurisiviel tended to me. Thank you Alvaro. It looks like I owe my life to you."

"As am I to you. Consider the debt repaid," Alvaro responded warmly. "Now, to other matters of import. I am here to inform you that I will be leaving your company henceforth."

Zenvix paused at the sudden news. "I see. May I ask why?"

Alvaro hesitated before responding. "I have....connections within Ceil that I do not see fit to disclose now. I will be working with them to uncover and undermine Aderis's plot for this city. As they are highly uncomfortable collaborating with outsiders, especially outsiders belonging to the once-aggressive nation of Nox, they will not wish for your involvement in any way. I apologize for the blunt statement, but it is what it is."

Zenvix considered Alvaro's words for a moment before nodding. "Understood. We shall work separately then for the same purpose. You with your brethren, and I with the sovereignty of Ceil. It will be a combined bottom-up and top-down approach to crush Aderis's plans once and for all."

Alvaro nodded. "You have your work cut out for you, I must say. Attaining the cooperation of Ceil's sovereignty will not be easy."

"And yet, try we must." Zenvix replied, his tone firm.

"Your Highness, speaking of this, I must interject to bring a message from the highest power within Ceil's matriarchy, if you are well enough to respond," Sir Dylas stated.

"Minister Zila is expecting you at noon today."