tegerio - Xavier Hoardblemish
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intensely studied me for an uncomfortable amount of time. The bizarre effect of his hairy visage without his customary wizard hat (which he had hung on a rack before sitting behind his desk) was quite unnerving. He certainly had the traditional look of a sorceror down pat. Was he trying to use Elfmind? Was it even possible for a lowfolk to do that? I did my best to mute my thoughts, just in case. As he continued to peer at me, I became increasingly self-conscious. Was there something on my face? There shouldn’t be; I had just had a shower. Was it my pores? Skincare hadn't been a priority for a long time, and- wait, how could he see my pores through my fur? WAS I GOING BALD?? I could not resist nervously patting my face and scalp, just to be sure...
“It’s nothing serious, Mr. Young," Hoarblemish finally sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I'm somewhat astonished that anyone would know of this matter, but more than that, I'm disappointed. I was hoping to save my most impressive discovery for the last leg of the tour, when it would produce the greatest effect - right after I showed you my personal relic collection, the new wall sconces, and all the new chairs in the classrooms.”
I paused mid-pat with my hands hovering near my head. His tour had already included chairs and potted plants, and he was planning to show me all the remaining chairs and sconces? How long was this tour supposed to take??
With one final pat (just to be sure) I spoke: “Rest assured that no one in your employ, nor social circle, told me of your discovery. I have in MY employ people who may or may not - I haven’t decided yet - see more than ordinary people do. I was told that in your alembic you possessed a stone, but I can at least assure you that I don’t know specifically what this stone might be.”
“Your source does indeed see more than most," Xavier admitted. "For my part, I see no need to beat about the bush any longer, sir: I have completed the Great Work, the fabled Magnum Opus in the original sense of the phrase. Through a lifetime of research, trial and error, and a few lucky breaks, I have discovered The Philosopher’s Stone.”
“You actually found it?” I gasped in astonishment. "THE Philosopher’s Stone?" I was stunned. This elusive artifact was something that many elves had also spent their entire lives chasing. A lowfolk alchemist making this breakthrough was monumental. Perhaps the lowfolk truly were more capable than we elves had given them credit for…
“As a scholar of the arcane arts yourself," Hoardblemish continued, "I’m sure you are already aware, but the Philosopher’s Stone is not actually a stone, nor even an object you can find. It is an alchemical process that produces a substance - Perfected Matter - which can be used for nearly anything: Turning lead into gold, reversing aging, curing any disease, completely changing the chemical makeup of any substance it touches. The Stone itself is unlike anything the modern sciences can quantify. Naturally, being magickal, it defies the mundane understanding of matter, elements, and chemistry. It somehow hovers in a state between a liquid and the finest powder imaginable. Imagine flour ground so fine that it runs like a near-weightless fluid. Its color is difficult to perceive. After hours of observing it, the best I can describe is that it manages to be the deepest red and purest white at the same time. Not mixed together, but two distinct colors occupying the same space and retaining their hue without blending. I have done some limited experiments. I de-aged myself about 3 to 5 years just to see what would happen. I deliberately infected myself with influenza and then cured myself. I cured a man of his tuberculosis and then had him swear to secrecy, and I turned a few metals into other metals .. not gold of course .. but my supply of the substance is limited and the process to make it is lengthy and difficult to reproduce. The Philosopher’s Stone is powerful indeed, but exactly how do you think it will be able to stop, or as you said, limit the damage of the Herzogin’s entire war machine?”
I pondered for a few moments. My Ixies had informed me that the Duchess’s most devastating and terrifying weapon was a gas that very, very painfully dissolved flesh. The exact wording of Thomson’s (or should I say Mr. Calaveras'?) prophecy was that I would "find in the headmaster's alembic the mystical stone that turns the stench of death into the fragrance of spring." It seemed like divine providence that the headmaster's discovery was the exact do-anything tincture that alchemists had been seeking since the dawn of time.
“Fuma works in mysterious ways, my friend," I chuckled mysteriously, "and I believe we are both doing the Lady’s will…”
intensely studied me for an uncomfortable amount of time. The bizarre effect of his hairy visage without his customary wizard hat (which he had hung on a rack before sitting behind his desk) was quite unnerving. He certainly had the traditional look of a sorceror down pat. Was he trying to use Elfmind? Was it even possible for a lowfolk to do that? I did my best to mute my thoughts, just in case. As he continued to peer at me, I became increasingly self-conscious. Was there something on my face? There shouldn’t be; I had just had a shower. Was it my pores? Skincare hadn't been a priority for a long time, and- wait, how could he see my pores through my fur? WAS I GOING BALD?? I could not resist nervously patting my face and scalp, just to be sure...
“It’s nothing serious, Mr. Young," Hoarblemish finally sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I'm somewhat astonished that anyone would know of this matter, but more than that, I'm disappointed. I was hoping to save my most impressive discovery for the last leg of the tour, when it would produce the greatest effect - right after I showed you my personal relic collection, the new wall sconces, and all the new chairs in the classrooms.”
I paused mid-pat with my hands hovering near my head. His tour had already included chairs and potted plants, and he was planning to show me all the remaining chairs and sconces? How long was this tour supposed to take??
With one final pat (just to be sure) I spoke: “Rest assured that no one in your employ, nor social circle, told me of your discovery. I have in MY employ people who may or may not - I haven’t decided yet - see more than ordinary people do. I was told that in your alembic you possessed a stone, but I can at least assure you that I don’t know specifically what this stone might be.”
“Your source does indeed see more than most," Xavier admitted. "For my part, I see no need to beat about the bush any longer, sir: I have completed the Great Work, the fabled Magnum Opus in the original sense of the phrase. Through a lifetime of research, trial and error, and a few lucky breaks, I have discovered The Philosopher’s Stone.”
“You actually found it?” I gasped in astonishment. "THE Philosopher’s Stone?" I was stunned. This elusive artifact was something that many elves had also spent their entire lives chasing. A lowfolk alchemist making this breakthrough was monumental. Perhaps the lowfolk truly were more capable than we elves had given them credit for…
“As a scholar of the arcane arts yourself," Hoardblemish continued, "I’m sure you are already aware, but the Philosopher’s Stone is not actually a stone, nor even an object you can find. It is an alchemical process that produces a substance - Perfected Matter - which can be used for nearly anything: Turning lead into gold, reversing aging, curing any disease, completely changing the chemical makeup of any substance it touches. The Stone itself is unlike anything the modern sciences can quantify. Naturally, being magickal, it defies the mundane understanding of matter, elements, and chemistry. It somehow hovers in a state between a liquid and the finest powder imaginable. Imagine flour ground so fine that it runs like a near-weightless fluid. Its color is difficult to perceive. After hours of observing it, the best I can describe is that it manages to be the deepest red and purest white at the same time. Not mixed together, but two distinct colors occupying the same space and retaining their hue without blending. I have done some limited experiments. I de-aged myself about 3 to 5 years just to see what would happen. I deliberately infected myself with influenza and then cured myself. I cured a man of his tuberculosis and then had him swear to secrecy, and I turned a few metals into other metals .. not gold of course .. but my supply of the substance is limited and the process to make it is lengthy and difficult to reproduce. The Philosopher’s Stone is powerful indeed, but exactly how do you think it will be able to stop, or as you said, limit the damage of the Herzogin’s entire war machine?”
I pondered for a few moments. My Ixies had informed me that the Duchess’s most devastating and terrifying weapon was a gas that very, very painfully dissolved flesh. The exact wording of Thomson’s (or should I say Mr. Calaveras'?) prophecy was that I would "find in the headmaster's alembic the mystical stone that turns the stench of death into the fragrance of spring." It seemed like divine providence that the headmaster's discovery was the exact do-anything tincture that alchemists had been seeking since the dawn of time.
“Fuma works in mysterious ways, my friend," I chuckled mysteriously, "and I believe we are both doing the Lady’s will…”
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