053 "The Deity's Companion"

Alchemy is a discipline with a history as ancient as time itself, its origins even predating the art of magic. Yet, throughout the long river of history, alchemy has risen and fallen, and countless archaic branches of knowledge have been submerged in the depths of time, lost forever. Thus, for alchemists of the present era, each discovery of a relic is a key to unlock the mysteries of ancient civilizations.
—Excerpt from “Teresa’s Alchemical Notes”

Upon the snow-laden tundra, an ice wolf rider sped swiftly across the expanse. Clad entirely in white, he seemed almost one with the frozen landscape. The ice wolf, well-trained, followed its familiar route at a brisk pace, soon passing through a grove of blue-snow trees, their azure foliage glistening in the cold. The pair halted before a man-made ice cellar, carved deep into the ground. From the exertion, the wolf’s breath puffed out in clouds, quickly condensing into fine beads of frost that fell upon the snow. The rider dismounted, strode to the cellar, and knocked twice on the specially constructed door. Shortly after, a girl of eleven or twelve opened the door. Dressed in pure white furs, her face shone like the moon, her skin as flawless as polished jade.

The rider handed over the bundle he carried, which the girl took with practiced ease. She pointed to a direction and said, “Go rest, and return in two hours to collect your reply.”

With a respectful bow, the rider led his restless ice wolf to a smaller cellar behind the main one. The girl closed the door, shutting out the biting cold. Inside, the cellar was surprisingly warm. Carrying the bundle, she moved quickly down a short corridor. The passage opened into a spacious, circular chamber, brilliantly lit from above. Several tables were arranged throughout, each covered in documents, models, alchemical instruments, and other materials. Many people bustled between the tables, busy with their tasks, too preoccupied to even exchange greetings.

“Hey, Tess, what did the military send us this time?” called a clear voice from the left. Turning, the girl recognized a familiar face: Yale, who, like her, had been transferred from the Arca camp to serve as an assistant. Her opportunity had come thanks to Amos, whose reputation in the military paved the way, while Yale owed his chance to a respected mentor.

Teresa nodded slightly to Yale. “These are historical records from previous dynasties, specifically requested by Master Twilight. He’s likely trying to determine the age of the relic.”

“That’s great! Once the era’s confirmed, we can get started,” Yale replied excitedly. “Master Twilight is amazing—he’s only been here three days, and already made such a breakthrough.”

Teresa only smiled in response, then, after another nod, carried her bundle toward the chamber’s solitary dais. There, two elderly men were engrossed in discussion at a table. One was tall and thin as a bamboo stalk, with green hair cascading down and misty gray eyes—a half-elf alchemy master from Cervantes City, known as Twilight.

Teresa had been fortunate; upon arriving, she discovered that Twilight was among the masters overseeing the excavation. Following the principle of “familiarity over novelty,” Twilight appointed Teresa as his exclusive assistant, thrusting her directly into the heart of the dig and granting her access to its most critical secrets. This enviable position drew the envy and grudging admiration of countless alchemists who had been reassigned to aid the project—after all, proximity to the masters meant greater opportunities to learn and make one’s mark. Teresa, so young, had secured such a vital role with ease—how could she not attract jealousy?

Ascending the dais, Teresa carefully extracted several heavy, bound volumes from her bundle, taking care not to disturb the animated debate between the two elders. She quietly retrieved her materials and began reviewing the documents, determined to do her part well.

It could be said that nowhere on the continent were alchemists more passionate about ancient relics. Alchemy’s history was both vast and convoluted, its civilizations often lost to time. Though modern alchemy thrived, in many respects it still did not surpass the marvels of some ancient eras—historical records had described wondrous alchemical achievements that were yet unmatched.

Such zeal bred caution. Alchemists had their own meticulous procedures for excavating relics. The first step was always to determine the era of the site, for only then could they deduce the civilization’s priorities and magical encryption methods. Destructive force was considered disgraceful—these seekers of perfection and rigor believed that preserving and uncovering relics intact was the greatest respect owed to the past, and the best way to inherit its legacy.

Teresa was deep in her research when an elegant recitation drifted from above. It was the very term she was reviewing, pronounced in the elaborate, graceful cadence of ancient Elvish. The low, resonant voice conveyed its beauty so fully that Teresa felt momentarily enchanted. Then, the familiar voice continued overhead: “This term is placed mid-sentence; grammatically, it cannot be a noun. You’re using the wrong reference.”

The cool, detached tone jolted Teresa back to attention. Instinctively, she straightened, and saw a long, elegant, aged hand reach past her, picking up a pen to write an alternative translation. A cascade of knowledge about the term’s origins and development followed, delivered with effortless clarity. Teresa, abandoning her work, listened intently and took notes, as did the other assistants in the chamber, who slowed their tasks to catch every word. Such insight from a master was a rare privilege.

After finishing his explanation, Twilight allowed Teresa to ask a few more questions about ancient Elvish, answering two or three before quickly losing interest. He merely indicated which remaining terms were correct or incorrect, then told Teresa to research them herself before turning back to his own work.

Twilight’s demeanor was less than warm, yet Teresa was more than satisfied. Ignoring the envious, admiring, and resentful looks from around the room, she contentedly crossed off her doubts, resolved to seize another opportunity to consult Twilight again.

Lost in her calculations, she looked up to find the other alchemy master, previously embroiled in debate with Twilight, casting her a teasing glance. Embarrassed, Teresa chuckled awkwardly, quickly poured a cup of hot tea, and presented it with respectful but not obsequious manners, which made her appear quite agreeable. The master, pleased by both the tea and Teresa’s demeanor, graciously offered her some guidance, making Teresa beam with delight. In that moment, she felt more than ever the advantages of “keeping company with the gods.”