Redemption Arc

Lucian had long been wrestling with the idea of changing the original details of the War of Four. He’d been afraid to take that step because it would throw off his plans unpredictably. He’d only resorted to doing so now because his plans were already being thrown so far of course that it was almost untenable. Losing access to Charlton’s recipes was almost a death sentence.

He really kicked a hornet’s nest, though.

“The accusation that you’re making is a very serious one,” Charlton said. “Everyone involved in the Black Bloom Initiative was executed.”

Lucian tried to stop himself from shivering in the cold. “You can stop with the play acting. Surely you’re not going to turn on the cold and then go, ‘who, me?’”

Charlton didn’t respond. His eyes were chillier than the room, Lucian felt.

“I know about every member of the Black Bloom Initiative that’s still alive,” Lucian continued. “Florence and you are the only in Verne, but there’s many more in the Empire of Riverra. I even know that name you give yourself—Petals of the Bloom. Real poetic.”

Charlton rose to his feet. It felt as though the room fell another few degrees. “Then you should also know that it’s been designated an international secret. Anyone who leaks the information or possesses it can be killed without proper arbitration.”

Lucian couldn’t stop himself from shaking any longer in this chill. Though his teeth chattered, he said seriously, “You’re going to k-kill the heir to the Duchy of Villamar in your home? People know where I went—and not j-just my servants, either.” He bit his tongue as his teeth chattered, but pushed on. “You think I didn’t tell people I was visiting Charlton Lowenthal, legendary alchemist?” Lucian bluffed. In reality, the only other person that knew his location was Walter. “If you kill me, people are definitely going to start digging. Alternatively, you can cooperate.”

“If you’re trying to blackmail me, I don’t think you have any idea who I am,” Charlton said.

Lucian stood. “I know that you p-protested when the Black Bloom Initiative was shut down, because you wanted to work on the cure. I know that they’ve forbidden you from researching it independently.” Lucian walked around the table to stand closer. “I’m not blackmailing you, Mr. Lowenthal. I’m asking you to help stop the madness you caused. Every day that passes, another elven child is born with the Black Bloom you helped design,” he pointed out, his voice hard. “I’ll say it again. You owe it to her. You owe it to a l-lot more than just her.”

Lucian thought for a few moments that his words were falling on deaf ears. Florence and Charlton both felt immensely guilty about their role in the Black Bloom Initiative, but Florence was the one who broke protocol to help Miriam in the War of Four. He was taking a huge gamble by doing this here, so early in the game.

Then… Charlton closed his eyes and sat back down on the couch. The chill that had permeated the room started to dissipate slowly.

“You must understand…” Charlton began, his eyes closed. “The Black Bloom was never intended to be as it was. It was supposed to be like any other disease. It would come, render you ill for a time, and then pass. We thought we were making a potent flu, nothing more—a weapon with which to end the war against the quasi-humans in the Republic of New Riverra, far less fatal than by sustained warfare over years.”

Lucian almost collapsed in relief once Charlton’s demeanor shifted back to as it had been. He walked back to his position of the couch, sitting down.

“I know all of that,” Lucian said. “But when you released it from the lab… the disease mutated. It became far worse than you could’ve ever imagined.”

Lucian knew some facts that even Charlton didn’t know. The disease hadn’t mutated. Before it was deployed, someone else had changed it further. That was one of the unsolved mysteries in the War of Four, set up for the sequel.

“We were meddling with something far beyond our comprehension. Trying to master nature… hubris. Pure folly. But we were young and arrogant, and we didn’t fully grasp our own ignorance.” He removed his square glasses and wiped tears from his eyes. “Who told you all of this? Your grandfather?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lucian said.

Charlton exhaled, sinking back into his chair in exhaustion. “They forbid us from looking for a cure, but… Florence and I have never stopped. Nor have we succeeded. People called the two of us the greatest alchemists of our generation. What a joke…” Charlton hung his head. “We’ve killed tens of thousands more than we’ve ever saved with our craft. We sought to save lives by ending the war in that fashion, not… not this.”

“You’re not allowed to die before you fix this,” Lucian said, reading the man’s expression. “And that’s why you’re going to take Miriam as your protégé.”

Charlton refocused on Lucian, sobered. “Why are you so insistent about this? Who is this girl to you?”

“She’s a… friendly acquaintance. I met her last week,” Lucian said dryly. “She’s looking into the Black Bloom Initiative. Even more importantly, she can cure it.”

Charlton scoffed in resigned disbelief. “Why do you believe that?”

“I know it for a fact,” Lucian said steadfastly. “She can be a better alchemist than both of you ever were. Most of her life’s been dedicated to it.”

“Even… even supposing I take this nonsensical confidence of yours seriously, considering how this conversation began, I hope you can understand some of my skepticism about your stake in this,” Charlton said.

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Lucian looked off to the side, thinking hard. “I won’t lie,” he said, looking back. “I’m not good at lying, as I’m finding out. The fact is, I want to get your potions on the cheap. If I get this, I’m planning on asking her to make your potions for me at-cost. But just as much… it’s the right thing to do.” Lucian nodded his head decisively. “I’ve been dealing with a particular conundrum. I think… I think this conversation helped me solve it. But that’s beside the point.”

Lucian wasn’t going to stand idly by if he could change a situation wherein people were miserable. Now that he had done this, he was confident that he was doing the right thing. It felt right. In what world would allowing someone to suffer help him in the long term? He needed to help Miriam cure the Black Bloom Initiative immediately. He needed to save Rowan’s father, Christoph. He needed to prevent all of the misery that he could.

“Why is the heir to a ducal family worried about saving costs?” Charlton asked, confused. “You have more money than I do after working my entire life.”

Lucian laughed. “You want the truth? I’m not the heir. Prince Denzel probably is. Duke Metterand is breathing down my neck, watching me at every moment. No one likes me, and most people want to see me dead. The duke cut off my allowance. To put it simply…” he leaned in gravely. “I’m broke. Broke as a joke, Mr. Lowenthal.”

“I see.” Charlton nodded. “I… I’ll at least meet with this girl. I won’t make any promises, but… I’ll consider her.”

Lucian sighed in relief. “Thank you. I’m positive she won’t disappoint.”

Charlton stroked his beard, and ice crystals fell off it. “Does she… know?”

“Do you really think I’d risk both of our lives by telling her that information?” Lucian said. “No. I’m the only one that knows. But… she’s not stupid, either.”

“What’s her name?” Charlton asked.

Lucian smiled.

***

“Lucian? Didn’t see you in alchemy class this morning,” Miriam said as he sat across from her abruptly. “Come to see what the plebians eat?”

Miriam sat at one of the tables in the mess hall. Lucian never ate here, because he could always find a good meal with Walter. The food here didn’t look terrible. She was eating a chicken leg which seemed poorly seasoned, but well-cooked. She’d chosen the chicken leg deliberately, no doubt. It matched her sense of humor all too well.

“You look like you need that more than me,” Lucian said while sitting down, and she snickered as she ate. “Do you know Charlton Lowenthal?” Lucian asked Miriam.

Miriam swallowed before saying, “Do I know one of the alchemists foundational for the modern study? I might. Just maybe. Not like I own four of his books or anything.” She took a drink of milk. “Come to think of it, I own eight of them, actually. Why?”

“I recommended you as his apprentice,” Lucian said flatly. “If he likes you, he’s going to pass down all of his potion recipes to you.”

Miriam stifled a laugh, nearly spitting out her milk. When she had swallowed, she looked at him and said, “Yeah? Next you’ll tell me my aunt died, and she was secret royalty.”

Lucian produced a paper and slid it over. “Go to his estate here in Verne and show this to the doorman. They should take you to see him whenever you come by.”

Miram’s face tensed when she saw the paper. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Did I stutter?”

“But this… this is crazy,” she said, setting down the chicken leg. “Tell me you’re joking. If you are… I can give you some advice about not going too far.”

“My family knows him,” Lucian explained. “He was talking about alchemists who might be talented enough to carry on his legacy. You came to mind.”

Miriam sat there agape for a long few moments. It felt pretty decent surprising her like this. He’d have to do it more often. Eventually, she comported herself.

“That’s because ‘legacy’ has the word ‘leg’ in it.” She tapped her temple. “You thought those jokes were jokes, but I was actually conditioning you mentally.”

Lucian couldn’t help but laugh.

“All kidding aside,” Miriam said seriously, pushing aside her plate to lean in. “Are you toying with me? We barely know each other.”

“I know that you reached silver on your first day in alchemy class. Besides, you’ll still have to be interviewed,” Lucian said. “I don’t think you’re the only candidate. And if you get it… I want a promise from you.” He pointed at her. “I bring you ingredients, you make me the potions I need. Top-priority. No fee.”

“That’s all you want?” Miriam raised a brow.

“I’ll be honest. The only reason I was studying alchemy was so I could brew the potions I needed cheaply.” He pointed at her. “If you can do it? That’d be the best of both worlds. I could focus my studies on things I actually need to learn. I’ll warn you—I’ll need a lot of potions.”

Miriam stared at him with her unnerving teal eyes. Lucian was growing used to them.

“Alright,” she said. “You bring the ingredients, then. Even if I don’t get it, I can do that much for the opportunity to study under Charlton, at least for a while. I don’t like owing people favors.”

“I can tell.”

“And if I do get it… far as I’m concerned, I’ll make you potions for years.” She shrugged in disbelief.

Lucian produced a bag and set it on the table. “I took these from the Lowenthal estate.” He slid it over. “It has a list inside alongside the ingredients. I need these potions made before we leave for the first Student Ambassador mission.” He tapped the table a few times happily and rose. She looked up at him, bewildered. “Godspeed, soldier.”

***

Lucian whistled as he opened up the door to his apartment in Verne. He walked in, ready to take off his shoes and spend some time honing his plans. He froze in his tracks when he saw someone malingering at the entrance.

“Lucian,” Metterand said. His clouded eyes watched without a discernible expression. “I heard you’ve been quite busy. So busy, in fact, that you didn’t visit me once while I was recovering.”

Lucian said nothing, quietly shutting the door.

“The first Student Ambassador mission is coming up,” Metterand said. “I think we need to have a conversation about that.”