The Alchemist's Elixir
The old man, Rashid, frowned as he watched the boy bury his face in the bowl like a dog. He quietly told him to eat properly, but the boy didn't even seem to hear him.
Letting out a long breath, he began:
"It started when I was twenty. It was an unbearably hot summer."
Under the blazing sun, the twenty-year-old Rashid was climbing a ladder. It leaned against an impossibly high fortress wall, where soldiers armed with long spears shouted down at him. Soon, curses followed—and then the spears thrust toward him.
Gripping the ladder with his left hand, Rashid twisted his body slightly and snatched a spear with his right, yanking it hard. Before the soldier could even let go, he was dragged down and fell from the wall. The sudden shock made the enemies hesitate, and Rashid swiftly climbed to the top and leapt onto the wall.
"Stop him! Stop him!"
The defending soldiers charged in, shouting.
But their attacks were deflected by his plate armor, and Rashid cut them down with sword and hammer.
"Damn it."
After his brief rampage, there were no enemies left on the wall.
"It's unbearably hot."
Breathing heavily, he braced himself on his knees. Was there anything worse than wearing full metal armor under the blazing midsummer sun? He was even wearing padded armor beneath it.
He removed his helmet and grabbed the waterskin at his waist. Though the water was lukewarm, it eased his thirst and restored some strength. Shaking out his sweat-soaked, flattened hair, he looked around.
The entire city lay before him.
It was a great city called Karmaya. Once the stronghold of a powerful noble, its citizens had driven out their lord and purchased a title from the king, establishing self-rule.
They had since built wealth through trade—but that wealth had attracted enemies. One of those enemies was the lord Rashid served.
"Is it over?"
Boom.
The city gate collapsed.
Right after the walls were taken, the gate itself failed under the assault. A thunderous cheer erupted from the attackers. The defenders who had barely held out behind the gate turned and fled.
There was a reason people said that once the gate was breached, surrender should not be accepted. With even the walls lost, resistance was futile.
One side screamed in terror, the other roared in triumph, as they became fugitives and pursuers. Fires rose throughout the city, and Rashid watched the scene without expression.
"Rashid."
Thud—a seasoned knight struck his back. Rashid gave him a respectful nod. The knight offered a few words of praise before continuing:
"A command from the lord. Capture an old man."
"Who?"
At Rashid's question, the old knight shrugged.
"An alchemist, it seems. The lord must have heard some strange rumor. Though I imagine he's already fled… Still, we've been ordered to bring him in."
"Understood."
He immediately descended the wall and headed for the alchemist's residence.
It was a grand mansion. Built of stone with three full stories, it looked more like a diplomatic estate of some great nation.
When Rashid and his men arrived, the gates stood wide open, as if welcoming them. There were no guards—only discarded spears remained. The same was true for the servants.
"Looks like we're too late."
"We should still check."
Rashid and his subordinates split up to search the mansion.
There were many rooms, but most were storage. Only a few were living spaces, and they were filled with all kinds of materials. There were no valuables left—any gold, silver, or precious metals one would expect from an alchemist had already been taken.
"Hm?"
He stopped in a large workshop.
It was clear someone had been working there until recently. A fire still burned in the furnace.
A large cauldron sat above it, filled with a bubbling black liquid of unknown origin. The smell was foul beyond words. The moment he leaned in to inspect it, bile rose in his throat, and he quickly pulled back.
'What was he making?'
Muttering a curse, he examined the metal tube attached to the cauldron. It passed through several structures, gradually narrowing, until it became as thin as a pinky finger above a table, angled downward.
Drip. Drip.
Very slowly, droplets formed at the end of the tube and fell.
A vivid purple liquid collected in a small glass vial below. The vial was small enough to hide in one's palm. When Rashid found it, it was nearly full. Without much thought, he reached for the stopper beside it, thinking he should seal it.
That was when a shout rang out behind him.
"Don't touch it!"
Startled, he turned around.
A young man stood at the workshop entrance, glaring at him. He wore a white toga embroidered with gold patterns—clearly no ordinary person.
Rashid placed a hand on his waist and stepped forward.
"Listen—"
"Step back at once, you uncivilized fool!"
Before Rashid could finish, the young man extended his right hand toward him. At a glance, it looked like a gesture telling him to stay back—but Rashid sensed mana gathering in front of it.
He twisted his body instinctively.
At almost the same moment, the wall behind him crumbled like sand.
"Damn it!"
Rashid hurriedly drew his sword as the young man aimed his hand at him again. Judging it too late to charge, Rashid grabbed something from the table with his free hand and threw it. It was a jade-colored stone—and when it collided with the wave of mana the young man released, it exploded.
The force of the explosion overturned everything in the workshop.
Rashid was thrown through the crumbling wall, tumbling before struggling to lift his head. Through the dust, he saw the young man moving. Instead of finishing him off, the man was desperately grabbing the glass vial rolling on the table and collecting the spilled liquid.
Rashid didn't miss the opportunity.
While the man's attention was diverted, he rushed forward and struck. The blade plunged deep into the young man's back, piercing straight through his heart.
"—!"
Instead of a scream, only a breathless sound escaped his lips.
But the young man did not collapse. He stretched his arm backward, struggling as if trying to grab Rashid. Seeing him endure even with his heart pierced, Rashid panicked, shoved him aside, and kicked him away.
The young man rolled across the oil spilled from the explosion, then struck the furnace—his entire body catching fire. Rashid blocked the entrance to the workshop and waited for him to burn to death.
It didn't take long.
Rashid spat, flecks of blood mixed in.
"Sir Rashid!"
Soon, hurried footsteps of soldiers approached. Rashid glanced down at the corpse for a moment, then picked up the glass vial, sealed it with the stopper, and slipped it into his pocket.
"Are you alright?"
Saying he was fine, he ordered them to preserve the body and the workshop. The soldiers asked who the corpse was, but even Rashid had no answer. Judging by his age, he could only assume he was the alchemist's son.
Later, after the city had been fully subdued, the old knight visited the mansion with the lord. While the lord inspected the estate, Rashid stepped outside with the knight. The older man lit a cigarette and spoke.
"That corpse."
"Yes."
"That must have been the alchemist the lord was looking for."
Rashid's eyes widened.
"That's impossible. He looked about my age."
"About your age? Not an old man?"
The old knight frowned, but when Rashid nodded with a stiff expression, he took a deep drag and exhaled.
"That must be why the lord was interested."
"What do you mean?"
"What the master of this mansion was researching—this is it."
He continued:
"Immortality."
"A thing all humans desire, and rumors spread that some madman was researching it. Even being able to live long without aging like dwarves or fairies would be worth a fortune to many. I wondered why the lord paid attention to such nonsense… but now I see."
Rashid muttered, recalling the alchemist who had burned to death.
"Then he must have had some degree of success."
"Success?"
"Didn't he regain his youth?"
The old knight let out a dry laugh.
"Rashid, don't get carried away."
When Rashid asked what he meant, the knight pressed a finger firmly against his chest.
"I mean don't entertain foolish ideas. In all my life, I've never seen anyone who pursued immortality remain sane—or meet a proper end."
He tossed the burnt-out cigarette to the ground and crushed it underfoot.
"Immortality has never once been achieved. At best, it only slows aging a little. No one lives forever as a young man. Just like the rumors called him a madman, there must have been something seriously wrong with him."
Rashid fell silent. The slight tilt of his head showed he wasn't entirely convinced, but the old knight didn't notice. Nor did he notice Rashid subtly slipping a hand into his pocket and fiddling with something.
"Don't worry about killing the alchemist. The lord's interest will fade soon enough. He's a wise man—he'll be satisfied just collecting what remains in the mansion. It's not like there's anything truly valuable left."
The old knight patted Rashid on the shoulder.
Several months later, Rashid returned to his homeland.
Having been rewarded generously for his merits, he carried himself with newfound pride. He boasted of his exploits to his wife, and in the process, he spoke of the alchemist. He had no intention of confessing that he had stolen the vial.
He simply wanted to brag about cutting down a sorcerer in a single blow. But his wife pressed him about the item he had taken as loot.
"Why did you do that?"
She sighed immediately.
"You're not that kind of person."
"What do you mean, not that kind of person?"
Rashid frowned, scratching the back of his neck. He had been happily recounting his deeds, only to be treated like a criminal. Raising his voice, he said:
"I told you—he almost killed me. Do you expect me to just back off after that? Taking something like this as compensation shouldn't be a problem."
His wife quietly asked another question.
"Shouldn't you have it checked by a priest?"
"No! Then I'd have to explain it. What am I supposed to say if they ask how I got it? Even if I told the truth, do you think a priest would keep it a secret?"
"Then what will you do?"
"What else? I'll just keep it."
He took out the glass vial from his clothes and gently shook it. Because it had tipped over once, it was a little more than half full. His wife's eyes trembled as she looked at the vivid purple liquid sloshing inside.
"What are you so afraid of?"
"You know my mother was called a witch, right?"
"She just had… an unusual personality," Rashid said vaguely.
"She had an excessive thirst for knowledge. If there was something she didn't understand, she would dig into it until she did—and because of that, she often crossed boundaries."
"Get to the point."
"She taught me a saying: 'Do not covet eternal life.' Like the dwarves who trespassed into the heavens, immortality is not something humans can attain—or should attempt to attain."
"More stories about the great gods, I see."
Rashid shook his head.
"Well, I don't think this is some elixir of immortality. If it were, that man would have drunk it himself and killed me. Still… judging by his condition, I feel like it could sell for a high price."
He looked at his wife, whose expression remained stiff.
"When I get the chance to travel far, I'll find out what it does and sell it. It's not like I plan to drink it myself. That should satisfy you, shouldn't it?"
Only then did she fall silent.
And for a long time, the two of them forgot about the vial.
There was no opportunity to leave their territory, and with his wife expecting their first child, life became busy. In their peaceful life, there was no room for thoughts of immortality. The promise to dispose of it was never fulfilled.
They remembered it again—nine years later.