Chapter 526: The Alchemist Workshop
The Refining Hall in the eastern quarter of the city was where Retnin preferred to think.
It was a place of permanent motion: students and apprentices shuttling materials back and forth, steam rising from a dozen vessels, the persistent undertone of sulfur and acid water, the occasional crash of broken glass punctuated by a senior alchemist’s shout. Even now that Retnin held one of the three chief alchemist positions — a post that entitled him to his own private workroom — he found himself returning here to work. The Refining Hall was where alchemy actually happened. His workroom was where he wrote things down afterward.
It was the mixing that he loved. The fact that grayish sand and black charcoal could be coaxed, under the right conditions, into something no one had imagined before — crystal glass, snow powder, a dozen lesser things — this had not stopped being remarkable in thirty-four years of practice. The same held for people. The Workshop accepted many apprentices each year. Very few of them became alchemists of any distinction. Retnin was one of those few, and he was nearly fifty, and he was content with his life in the way that men are content when they have understood what they were actually built to do.
What had disquieted him recently was the city itself.
The transfer of power from Timothy to Prince Roland had been swift and total. Under ordinary circumstances, this would be a political matter with no particular implications for the Workshop — alchemical production served whoever held the throne. But Retnin was not certain the ordinary circumstances applied. The Workshop had supplied snow powder to Timothy’s forces. That was hard to argue around.
And the prince had gone to the Astrological Station first, rather than here.
“Still brooding over the Astrology Association?” Another voice settled beside him. He looked up: Rayleigh, silver-haired and carelessly dressed, had taken the next bench. “You’ve been sitting here doing nothing for ten minutes.”
“I’m thinking about what the prince is planning.”
“He’s thinking those star-gazers are a waste of money. What else could he be thinking?” Rayleigh waved a dismissive hand. “Though it’s a pity he didn’t follow through on shutting them down. Those people shouldn’t have been crowned sages to begin with.”
The Workshop maintained contacts in the Astrological Association — it was prudent to keep tabs on the only other institution in King’s City that competed for royal patronage. They knew, in rough terms, the nature of Roland’s visit to the Station. What they did not know was what the Chief Astrologer had said privately that had changed Roland’s mind about closing the place.
“Are you worried he’ll shut us down instead?”
Rayleigh clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t forget what we produce. Once the limits on crystal glass and perfume are lifted, the gold royals we could generate would fill the prince’s bedroom. No one with any commercial sense shuts down an operation like this.”
“We produced snow powder for Timothy.”
“Under royal command. Could we have refused?” Rayleigh grunted. “Any reasonable person knows we weren’t choosing sides — we were following orders. And frankly, given that the prince manufactured his own snow powder in the Western Region and got his formula from somewhere, we may have inadvertently contributed to his victory. He might even reward us for surrendering the advanced formula.”
Retnin nodded slowly, feeling marginally more settled. The Workshop was the kingdom’s primary revenue-generating research institution. The prince was a practical man, by all accounts. He would see the value—
“M-Mr. Chief Alchemist!” A student burst into the hall, breathless. “His Majesty is here!”
“What? Where?”
The hall went silent. Everyone stared at the student.
“Above the yard. In the air.” The student swallowed. “He descended from the sky.”
The hydrogen balloon covered nearly half the sky above the workshop’s courtyard. Soldiers armed with snow powder weapons had sealed the perimeter; they moved through the building in a methodical sweep before the balloon was allowed to descend.
“That’s the device he used to visit the Astrological Station,” Rayleigh murmured against Retnin’s ear. “I didn’t believe it could actually lift a person.”
“He’s here now,” Retnin said, gripping Rayleigh’s shoulder. “Whatever you call him in private, in an official setting he is the King of Graycastle, coronation or not. Act accordingly.”
“I always know how to behave.”
“I am not confident of that.”
The basket settled and Roland stepped out — a gray-haired man moving without ceremony, no crown, no scepter, no particular splendor, yet carrying himself in a way that filled the courtyard. Beside him was an elderly man in a cope whom Retnin found, with faint unease, vaguely familiar.
The three chief alchemists bowed, the rest of the Workshop following in a ripple.
Roland smiled pleasantly. “My father often spoke of you. He used to say that your crystal glass and perfume were sold as far as the Fjord Islands, and that they brought fine profits to the palace.” He paused. “So when he sent me to Border Town, I built an alchemical workshop of my own.”
Rayleigh choked on something. Retnin kept his expression neutral through an act of conscious effort.
“It must have been a considerable undertaking, Your Majesty,” Retnin offered. “Every proper workshop requires substantial capital.”
“That’s what’s puzzling me.” Roland’s tone remained light and conversational. “I didn’t invest much at all. Border Town was resource-poor — I started in a few wooden sheds. But now I produce glass, perfume, and several other products. So I find myself wondering where all those gold royals actually went.”
The temperature in the courtyard dropped.
“Your Majesty, I’m not certain I—” Retnin’s voice died.
“This is my Chief Alchemist, Mr. Kyle Sichi.” Roland gestured to the elderly man beside him. “He will be evaluating your work. If the Workshop has produced no meaningful innovations recently, I may need to redirect those resources toward reconstruction. King’s City took considerable damage, as I’m sure you know.”
The assembled alchemists reacted as one body. The sound was something between outrage and wounded dignity.
“Your Majesty, this is unacceptable.” Rayleigh had already surged forward. He was not, Retnin reflected in despair, the sort of man who had ever learned to let an insult pass.
Roland turned to him. “Oh? Why?”
Chapter 526: The Alchemist Workshop
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
The Refining Hall located in the east of the city was Retnin’s favorite place to stay.
It was a place always full of vitality, often filled with students and apprentices constantly moving materials back and forth. He could see steam rising from various vessels and perceive the smells of sulfur and acid water. Occasionally, he could hear crashes of broken glass, usually accompanied by loud scoldings from alchemists.
Even though he was promoted to one of the three chief alchemists two years ago and had his own alchemical room, he preferred the busy and crowded Refining Hall for inspiration. Just like the Refining Hall where people of different kinds gathered and mingled, alchemy was a process of mixing various matters. Nevertheless, only a few, such as crystal glass and snow powder, could distinguish themselves from the ordinary and shine through the muddy mixture.
The charm of alchemy lay in the refining process, in which those grayish white sand and black charcoals could turn into such a splendor that nobody had ever foreseen. The same held true for people. The Alchemist Workshop accepted a large number of new apprentices every year, but only a very few of them would eventually stand out from the rest and become first-rate alchemists. Retnin was one of the very few. It had taken him 34 years to go from apprentice to chief. Although he was now nearly 50, with one foot in the grave, he felt content with his life, for having learned the aesthetics passed down from the sages.
The only thing that disquieted him was the recent round of incidents in the King’s City.
The biggest overturn was the change of the king. After Prince Roland hanged Timothy, he had indubitably become the successor of the King. The news should have had nothing to do with the Alchemist Workshop. They needed to be responsible for alchemical production whoever the king was. However, he was not sure if they could stay out of this trouble once Prince Roland found out they had provided Timothy with snow powder as a war material.
King’s City had gradually restored its peace. Yet the fact that the prince had visited the Astrological Station instead of the Alchemist Workshop gave Retnin an ominous feeling.
“Are you still worried about the Astrology Association?” asked a voice at his side. “Its not like you to sit here in a daze, brows furrowed.”
Judging from the unguarded tone, Retnin knew it must be another chief alchemist. He turned around and found Rayleigh, whose hair was as frosty as his, sitting next to him. “What on earth do you think His Highness is planning?”
“He’s thinking those fellows who only care about stars are wasting money. What else can he be thinking about?” Rayleigh said carelessly. “It’s a pity he didn’t stick to his opinion. Those guys shouldn’t be crowned as sages anyway. They should have been laid off a long time ago.”
As the two major academies in the Kingdom, the Alchemist Workshop hired spies to collect information about the Astrology Association. The Alchemist Workshop somewhat knew the purpose of Roland’s visit to the Astrological Station, but did not know what exactly the chief astrologer had said to Prince Roland in secret that made him change his mind about shutting down the Astrological Station.
“Are you worried that the Alchemist Workshop will be shut down as well?” He patted Retnin on his shoulder heartily. “Don’t forget the profit we bring to King’s City! Once the limit in the production of crystal glass and perfume is lifted, the gold royals we’ll earn can probably fill the prince’s entire bedroom. How can he resist such a lucrative business opportunity and shut the Workshop down?”
“But we produced snow powder for Timothy.”
“So what? Could we disobey the King’s order?” Rayleigh grunted. “Any reasonable person should know it isn’t us to blame. Besides, he also manufactured loads of weapons fueled by snow powder himself. I bet he must have gotten the formula from Boer, the traitor. In this light, we actually made a contribution to his victory. Perhaps he’ll even reward us if we hand in the advanced formula.”
“Hopefully.” Retnin nodded, feeling a little relieved. Like Rayleigh had said, the Alchemist Workshop was the largest gold production organization. The prince might have been stuck in the middle of something and therefore failed to visit them right after the war.
Just as Retnin was about to instruct a group of alchemists, a student dashed into the hall. Out of breath he shouted. “M-Mr. Chief Alchemist, His Majesty is here!”
“What? Where?”
Hearing Retnin’s exclamation, everybody in the hall was silent, looking at the student.
“Above the yard in the air.” The student swallowed hard. “His Majesty descended from the sky!”
Retnin and Rayleigh exchanged an astonished look. “Bring Chief Alchemist Archer here. Everybody else, follow me to greet His Majesty.”
“Yes, sir!”
…
A giant balloon that covered almost half of the sky was floating in the air outside the Alchemist Workshop. Soldiers armed with snow powder weapons surrounded the yard. After they had searched the Association thoroughly, making sure it was safe, the balloon started to land slowly.
“That must be the transportation device the prince used to visit the Astrological Station with the witches,” Rayleigh whispered in Retnin’s ear. “I didn’t expect it could truly make a person fly.”
“Anyway, he’s here.” Retnin felt alleviated. He grabbed Rayleigh’s shoulder and said, “It doesn’t matter how we address him in private, but you ought to show some respects in an official meeting. He is King of the Kingdom of Graycastle, even without an inauguration ceremony. Be serious.”
“Don’t worry. I know how to behave properly.” Reyleigh assured him with a smile.
After the basket landed safely, a beaming gray-haired man came up to them under the protection of the guards. He was bareheaded, not splendidly dressed, and held no scepter in his hand. He was not as marvelous as he was rumored to be, yet the prince’s every single gesture was majestic and dignified. Next to him stood an elderly man in a cope, who seemed surprisingly familiar to Retnin.
“Your Majesty, welcome to the Alchemist Workshop.” The three chief alchemists bowed, followed by all the other alchemists.
Roland smiled. “My father used to talk about you often when I was still in King’s City. He said both crystal glass and perfume are quite popular alchemical products, they have even been sold to the Fjord Islands. These products have brought great profits to the palace. So, I built an alchemical workshop myself after my father sent me to Border Town.”
“Pft—” Rayleigh almost burst out laughing upon hearing these words, whereas Retnin restrained himself and managed to conceal his amusement. “That must not have been an easy business, Your Majesty. Every alchemical workshop requires a large amount of gold royals to operate.”
“Really? But I didn’t invest a lot of gold royals. You know how deficient the resources are in Border Town. At first, I could only do the experiments in a few wooden sheds. But now I’m able to produce various products, including glass and perfume.” Roland continued casually, “So I’m wondering where those gold royals actually go.”
“Your Majesty, what… what do you mean by that?” Retnin’s heart sank.
“This is my Chief Alchemist, Mr. Kyle Sichi,” Roland replied, pointing to the elderly man next to him. “He’ll examine and evaluate your products. If there have been no innovations in recent years, I might as well shut down the Alchemist Workshop. After all, King’s City was just ravaged by a war, and I believe tons of gold royals are needed for reconstruction.”
The alchemists were outraged by the prince’s comment.
“Your Majesty, I can’t accept this!” Rayleigh was so angry that he couldn’t bear it and stood to challenge him.