The Quest of the Prodigy (The Alchemist of Time Book 1) Read online

  “What does that say?” asked Mimi, pointing to the words.

  “Where there is gold, there is hope,” said Aimon, caressing the pronunciation as if it too were gold.

  “I like that,” Mimi decided, and Aimon turned to look at her, his expression softening a tad.

  “Do you come here often?” asked Mimi of Bas, only to break the awkward silence.

  “I did,” said Bas, “until I got banished.”

  “So we must be careful not to be seen by my father, the headmaster,” said Aimon.

  “Your father is the headmaster of this entire school?” asked Mimi, not meaning to sound impressed. She didn’t want to give him credit after his cruel words. But the truth was, she did find it impressive.

  They walked through the wide entrance doors whose windows were covered in stained-glass artwork. The art was a collection of strange symbols, which Mimi suspected were symbols of Alchemy. The numerous windows in the hall were plain by comparison, but provided generous sunlight.

  The warm setting sun reflected over the golden Academy, making everything glow with ethereal beauty. Mimi found herself strangely glad to be here, able to witness something so spectacular in person. She had never been excited about traveling before, always a cautious home-body. But this trip was opening her eyes to the wonders of traveling, and she felt richer as a person because of it.

  As Aimon led them around another left turn, Mimi knew without a guide she would be hopelessly lost. She glanced up at Bas, who wore the same calm expression as before. It was like he was lost in thought, and merely following rather than paying attention to where they were going. Another sign he’d been here before. At last Aimon led them to a golden door and used a rectangular, card-shaped key in it. It beeped three times, there was a hiss of steam, and the door swished open from the top. The room they entered looked like a gymnasium, with long, gold-framed mirrors on one wall, and spongey blue mats on the floor. Two students around Mimi’s age were sparring on them.

  One of the students was a girl with a brown ponytail and a green belt tying her white robes. The boy she was fighting was taller than her, with sandy blonde hair and rippling muscles. Mimi though it unfair, but the girl’s tongue stuck out with determination. Their weapons were gold, the shape and size like that of a wand but with a fat base and a gear wheel on the bottom.

  “If this is the Academy of Alchemy, an obviously respected school, why are they fighting?” she asked Aimon.

  The students were so intense in their combat, they didn’t seem to notice Aimon, Bas, and Mimi observing them. Their fighting was like a fluid form of Tae Kwon Do, perhaps even Tai Chi, but she wasn’t a martial arts expert, and couldn’t tell them apart.

  The girl’s foot extended up to his face in one swift and graceful movement. The boy blocked it with impressive deftness.

  “This is why it worries me that you are not Prodigy material,” Aimon said at last. “To answer your question, they are fighting because since the beginning, when Alchemy was mastered by a student of the Truth of Words two hundred years ago, it was decided to incorporate Tai Chi into the art of Alchemy. To protect ourselves from the constant threat of the Truth of Blood.”

  Aimon paused in his explanation to continue watching the fight. The boy, whose belt color was orange, jumped and did a round house kick to knock her in the stomach. The girl let out a cry of pain and staggered back, but did not fall down.

  “You can see Miss Darcy and Logan are holding an Elemental Launcher, which compounds multiple elements of Alchemy to be used as a weapon. The Elemental Launcher is powerful, and deadly, and only given to second years and up.”

  “How many years are at this school?”

  “To graduate, to become a Brother or Sister of Alchemy, one must complete seven years of dutiful training. That is why I doubt you can cut it as a Prodigy. You just don’t look like the type that would work out and show dedication to the Tai Chi training. Because here at the Academy, we believe a strong vessel is needed for a strong mind. I’m sorry if that sounds mean, but it is just the way it is.”

  Mimi was glad for the distraction of watching the fight. She was hurt by his words, and hurt even more that he might be right. She had told Mr. Barkley and Bas that she wasn’t a warrior. But she had also told them she would try.

  Taking a deep breath, Mimi thought of a plan to make Aimon at least give her a chance to prove herself. She knew if she did fail, at lease she would know in her heart she had done all she could.

  She smiled as the girl whipped out her Elemental Launcher. The boy Logan armed himself with his just as fast. They both turned the gear at the bottom of their Launcher with a loud grinding noise, and then attacked. From the tip of Logan’s wand came gold dust which shot toward Darcy. From Darcy’s Launcher spat out a wave of liquid gold, like that from the fountain. The dust covered the liquid gold and froze it into the air. The liquid turned into a solid state and fell to the ground.

  Mimi’s eyes went wide. It was like magic, but Aimon had called it an art. She suddenly had a very strong desire to learn Alchemy.

  “Give me a chance to prove myself,” Mimi demanded. She wasn’t asking.

  “What?” asked Aimon.

  “Give me a test. If I pass, someone has to teach me Alchemy. If I fail, my brother and I will go home. But I came all the way from the year 2015. I’ve been shot at over the Diary, and already seen things more than I bargained for. I refuse to have come all this way just to be turned down. So if you are so certain I’m not Prodigy material, give me a test. If I fail, it’ll just prove you were right. If I pass, it’ll prove that the Diary was right. So what do you say, Aimon Hamilton? What do you have to lose to give me a test?”

  Aimon looked stunned. Mimi didn’t care if he thought she was crazy. She felt inspired by Darcy and Logan’s fight, and no longer afraid of what she didn’t understand. She wanted to learn Alchemy now, and no longer felt forced with the threat of time being unraveled. This was her decision.

  “Very well,” Aimon said at last. “At least now I know you have guts to stand up to me. If you display such determination during your test, you just might be able to surprise me, and I might be able to overlook your weak vessel. But for now, I believe your brother and Richie are probably waiting for us for supper.”

  Tall black leather riding boots submerged in mud as Captain James Donnan trekked toward the English Gate of Raw Earth. He’d only been on the REP once before, and wasn’t looking forward to doing it again.

  He felt anxious walking the Queen’s land in the enemy’s uniform, like the ultimate traitor. Hopefully this mission wouldn’t last long. Seeing himself in the King’s uniform made him as sick as riding the REP.

  Looking at his reflection in a pool of muddy water, clad in the King’s army uniform, made him especially sick because he now looked identical to his brother. A man who, despite being blood related, he had no desire to ever see again. Perhaps that was why he was so nervous about riding the REP. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle high speeds. It was that he was nervous about going to the King’s Castle. What if his brother was there? The thought scared him more than crossing the Atlantic Ocean in only an hour. He had declared him an enemy after he betrayed their entire family twenty years ago.

  EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND—MAY 4198

  (TWENTY YEARS PREVIOUS)

  A much younger James Donnan was performing his combat training routine vigorously. But this night felt anything but routine. It was the eve of a very important day. Tomorrow was the Choosing Ceremony, and James was a bit nervous. He wasn’t nervous about choosing, as he’d already made his choice years ago. He was nervous about graduation in general.

  In the neutral country of Scotland, the schools did not teach students to fear the King or Queen. That choice was left up to the pupil upon graduation, when they would choose a side to support, if they wanted to help the war efforts.

  Since James and his older brother Paxton were both in school, they had yet to decide. Despite the fact that Scotlan
d was a neutral country, many folks, like their father, were still rather biased. Neither James nor Paxton blamed their father for being biased against the King, for he had served the last Queen in former England twenty years ago. He had hope that his boys would choose the same path. James was proud to choose the Queen’s side, and follow in his father’s footsteps. It was an honor he had dreamed about since childhood when his father would tell him stories about living in the Queen’s Castle. But only the best of the best got to live in the Queen’s Castle, and James put all his effort into his training.

  Paxton was a year older than James, but had taken a year off of school to help their mother around the house during a year of sickness. At first James was angry about this, as it meant his brother would be in the same year, but then, like many things in life, the awkward became normal. Now they were both graduating tomorrow, and both brothers were to choose their side, to declare their allegiance. Either the King’s Court, or the Queen’s.

  James focused on the target in front of him. Part of their schooling at the Edinburgh Academy was weapon combat, and James’ favorite weapon had always been the sword. The sword may have been not as popular as the pistol, but he felt like he had more control with the rapier. He held the hilt in his hand and squinted. The target a few feet ahead of him was attached to a steel wall; a perk his parents had gifted the training brothers. It was a luxury most didn’t have, and he loved his parents for it. When his breathing steadied, and his hand was still, he counted to three and lunged at the target.

  “James!”

  He looked up in surprise. His younger sister stood behind him in tears.

  “What’s wrong, Rachel?” James asked, rattled to be interrupted. “Can it wait? You know how important training is right now.”

  She nodded and wiped her tears. “I know, but its Bryson. He’s done something awful!”

  “Are you hurt?” James asked patiently.

  “No, not physically. But James, this is important! Father and Paxton are arguing, and Mother is sleeping. James, you’re the only one I can talk to.”

  “Wasn’t Bryson the one that Paxton set you up with? I thought you said you were very happy with him.”

  “I thought I was,” she cried. “But then he started yelling at me tonight, and h-he called me an awful name! He was upset when I said I hope both my brothers choose the Queen’s side, and he said only the weak ones choose to side with the Queen. Oh I was furious at him! How could he call both my brothers weak? How could he choose the King? So, I left him.”

  The tears were back, and it broke James’ heart.

  “Well you know I will always choose the Queen. And am I weak?” He looked at the target farthest away and flung a dagger.

  Rachel laughed as he hit it dead on. “No, I know you’re not weak. That insult wasn’t why I was crying.”

  “Then, why were you crying?” asked James, confused.

  “Because of Bryson. You know he and Paxton are best friends. Inseparable. What if he chooses the King’s side to follow Bryson, rather than following you?”

  James’ mood turned dark as he thought of this. Her concern was valid. Bryson and Paxton had been best friends since they were toddlers. It would be difficult for Paxton to leave his best mate for the family. But he would. Wouldn’t he?

  “I don’t know, Rachel. I wish I could say everything will be fine. That Paxton will do the right thing.” He gave her a sympathetic look. “But I cannot foresee the future. We can only take life one day at a time. Worrying about tomorrow is not a useful way to spend time. Now, why don’t you help me practice by handing me that dagger?” he asked, hoping distracting her would cheer her up. He felt like a hypocrite, now extremely worried about Paxton’s decision. He hadn’t realized Bryson supported the King, hadn’t bothered to get to know him.

  Getting ready the next day was a whirlwind of fussing. Their mother, despite it being one of her better days, was weak, but persisted to fuss over James and his brother. Only once the morning had grew late enough they might miss the Choosing Ceremony did their mother allow them to leave.

  The Donnan residence was on the southern beach of the time-worn Edinburgh. They had a small but luxurious home resting along the sands of the beach, conveniently close to Edinburgh Academy. The Choosing Ceremony was not held at the Academy, but rather, at the Edinburgh Castle.

  The Donnan family traveled as most of the citizens traveled, in steam-powered buggies that did the trick of transportation in lieu of electricity.

  The buggy was the size of an old-fashioned horse and carriage with brass tube structure. The rear of the contraption held a shiny brass tank to heat the water, which made a puffing sound every time a bit of steam was transferred through the valve. The buggy had two rear pipes to let the steam out, and two giant wheels with multiple gears pulling it along the road. There was a wheel poking out from a thin brass tube which allowed his father to steer. As his father was a rather tall man, it was nearly comical sight to see him hunched over the short brass wheel.

  The seats were a camel leather brown and James had always thought them very comfortable. He enjoyed the family drives, as he had taken the steam-powered school bus every day for the last four years. A bittersweet sense of nostalgia washed over him as he realized how much he was going to miss going to school every day. He knew his brother didn’t share that sentiment; Paxton always said he couldn’t wait to serve in the war. It would scare Rachel, to hear him crave a bloodthirsty life, but James understood. It wasn’t that his brother was cruel, but they had been studying and training for so long, it’d be nice to finally get some action.

  James glanced over at Paxton. He looked strong and yet, somehow, very nervous. Why was he nervous? Was he switching sides?

  The city was gorgeous, and despite growing up there James felt proud every day he saw it. The city was old, dated back to the very ancient Bronze Age. The cobblestone streets gave the buggy a workout. The city air was not filled with the smells of the ocean as their home was, but rather of a healthy city. Smells of baking bread and flowers filled the air, mixed with an unpleasant aroma of sweat and grime from of the other folks occupying the city.

  At last they approached the Castle Gate. The Castle had such a long history. James wished the old cannon still worked. But much of the castle, despite being so old, was still very operational. Especially the esplanade at the front, where the Choosing Ceremony was to be held today.

  After a brief goodbye to their parents and Rachel, James and Paxton made their way to the castle’s esplanade. The open grassy area provided the perfect stage for the ceremony. The castle’s rich history often told of many events being held at this very esplanade. The esplanade was set up with stadium style, tiered seating for the parents and families. At the very front were two long benches, one red for those who chose to support the King, and one blue for those who allied with the Queen. It was a small class this year, with only one hundred and fifty students attending Edinburgh Academy at a time.

  There was a stage on the front of the esplanade, and the eighty-five graduates lined up on it. When they were called, they were to choose the colored seats which would symbolize the choice they had made. Their families would watch from the stadium style seating above.

  James looked at his brother. Paxton’s eyes were closed, like he was drowning out the scene, waiting for his name to be called.

  “I never understood,” whispered a student standing beside him. He recognized the student as Angela Donne, a popular brown-haired girl with green eyes and lots of freckles who was in all his classes, but not someone who he’d call his friend. Not quite as popular, James had never really talked to her. “Why do they still call them countries, like the country of Scotland, when it is the two Courts that rule the world?”

  James smirked and whispered back, “Well, most of the United Kingdom and the Eastern Hemisphere is under the Queen’s rule. But Ireland, Scotland and the Scandinavian countries managed to retain their political origins by being neutral. But many sch
ools, such as our Academy, still volunteer alumni for war support so that the Royals don’t take too much interest in our countries. Sort of like offerings, I guess you could call us.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “No wonder you were always ahead of the class.”

  James gazed with pride at his father seated in the distance. “I have to be, if I’m to live at the castle.”

  “Huh, to be honest I don’t want much to do with the war. I hope to volunteer as a civilian.”

  “Well, good luck,” he said, giving her hand a courteous shake before standing back to attention. Angela’s name was being called.

  She gave him a smile and shook the hand of the elderly superintendent calling out the names. James watched with a smile as Angela strode proudly to the blue chairs. He held his breath, suddenly realizing Donnan was after Donne. Alphabetically he was next, before his brother. He would be the center of attention for a whole half a minute, and it terrified him.

  His name was called. James felt the sweat of the spotlight upon him as he walked up to the stage. He stood proudly, shook the hand of the superintendent, and walked without hesitation toward the blue chairs. He returned Angela’s smile and looked up into the audience, spotting his sister’s worried gaze as Paxton’s name was called. It will be all right, he wanted to tell her. It has to be.

  He saw Paxton shake the older woman’s hand, take his rolled up certificate of graduation, and walk off the stage just as James had done moments ago. James began to smile as Paxton made eye contact with him, but then his brother abruptly switched direction, and James’ heart sank. His brother chose a red seat. Red, the color of the King. The color of blood.