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25/11/2010
M'aatt M'orzz had initially entered the strange hole in his kitchen wall out of a mixture of concern and curiosity.
His daughter, M'gann, had apparently made friends with a... thing. M'aatt didn't know how to describe it, though it matched up with a few legends that he vaguely remembered from his childhood. Stories his parents had told him about thoughtless B'luk Martians, tiny and frail creatures that could still drag a naughty, misbehaving child into the darkness where they would never be heard from again.
Alchemist was not small, being half-again as tall as himself. Rather, the size of the creature was offset by his long, spindly limbs and incredibly thin torso. With its wings folded down against its back, the being seemed far smaller than it really was.
It was nothing like the legends of M'rvinn or the dread, mysterious Tyr'ahnee he served but M'aatt couldn't help thinking of it, regardless.
Once several of his children had turned up and had the situation explained to them, M'aatt had joined them in visiting the strange place beyond the magical window while his wife, the light of his life, waited for a few stragglers that may or may not show up.
M'aatt hadn't known what to expect. The entire experience was so far beyond anything he'd ever dealt with, it was downright surreal.
An alien had walked right through his front door with M'aatt's daughter, as though it was the most normal thing in the world, and M'aatt didn't know what to do. Was he supposed to contact the Manhunters? The duo had walked -walked!- through the city to reach the M'orzz home, so the Manhunters should be well aware.
What about the clergy? Alchemist was clearly magical and that was mostly in the Y'ellonn domain... but the little bit that M'att had seen was far, far beyond anything he'd ever heard of them doing.
Trying to send a message to the B'lahdenn never even crossed his mind. The only one M'aatt had ever spoken to was the representative in charge of taxes for his little ranch, and that was strictly business.
Inside of the window, M'aatt was met with a truly severe sense of vertigo. He could hear water dripping, feel a gentle wind caressing his face, light burned against his eyes and everything, the air especially, felt too damp and cold.
And he felt heavy. The first step into the window, M'aatt felt like he was carrying a load that weighed at least as much as he did, and every step afterwards was even worse!
As his yellow eyes scanned around the strange room, as he felt the strange, green growths on the floor tickling at his feet, M'aatt stumbled to one of the tables laden with food and practically slammed his hands on to it, propping himself up and breathing heavily.
His head drooping, M'aatt felt terrible. Before the weight of the place had caught up with him, he'd seen his daughter talking with someone. A human, one with brown hair and the same glowing, yellow eyes that the creature had.
Were they the same? Was the creature a shapeshifter, like M'aatt's people?
"Dad?" a young girl's voice called out and M'aatt lifted his head, half thinking it was one of his own children. Instead it was a small human, with short brown hair and mischievious brown eyes. "Hey, hey, hey, can I have some mochi?"
"Only if you eat some real food, first," the human spoke, its voice a mirror of the flat, empty tones that had echoed in M'aatt's mind.
Quieter, though. Softer, too.
"But everything is greasy and heavy and you didn't make any rice!"
"You have to eat more than just rice, Yuffie," the man patiently explained to the child, crouching slightly so that he was eye level with her. "White rice doesn't have any nutrients. You won't grow up big and strong if that's all you eat. In fact, your legs will swell up and you'll get sick and bedridden if you only eat white rice."
The child pouted, something that M'aatt couldn't read from her face or body language but from her emotions instead. It felt just like when he used to have to tell M'gann to turn off the television and go to bed.
"Dad?" M'aatt heard again. Forcing his head up, he saw that it was actually his own daughter, M'gaan, this time. "Oh! Uh... gravity is, like, two or three times stronger, here," she explained out loud, her words significantly smoother than the rough attempts she used to make in mimicry of her shows. "Here, watch! I, uh, I already had to show most of my siblings how to shapeshift better muscles, and bones, and tendons and..."
"...Thank you, M'gann," M'aatt mumbled, his mind focused on trying to... compact everything.
Stronger gravity? He'd never known that about Earth. A part of him had sort of assumed that, for the planet to produce life like Mars, the conditions would be fairly similar.
Here, now, that assumption was challenged and M'aatt felt like he came out far worse for it.
M'aatt was not a talented shapeshifter. He wasn't an especially talented telepath, either. Outside of communicating and some light telekinesis from time to time, he'd never really needed to stretch either skill.
However, as he followed his daughter's directions and slowly, painstakingly manipulated bone, sinew and organ into smaller, denser shapes to better handle the gravity of his location, M'aatt realized something.
His daughter, the one that he'd always had to remind to get to bed or to get on to her chores... was actually quite talented.
"You've gotten very good at this," M'aatt complimented her as his body shrank, his mass condensing.
"Thank you!" and her response was so very, very bright. "I've been practicing a lot ever since I got to Earth!"
M'aatt loved his children. All of them. He and J'ann had been having kids almost regularly since they'd gotten married and he'd learned so much from each and every one. He... preferred some of his children over others, that was true of any parent, but he'd always made sure that they all knew that he loved them, he cared for them and he would do whatever he could with his very limited means to help them throughout the journey of life.
It always felt bittersweet to see how much more his children could do once they'd left the hive... but M'aatt felt proud of his daughter, regardless of the nigling doubt that tried to tell him that she'd accomplished more when she left than she ever could have if she'd stayed.
When he felt as though he could stand upright again, M'aatt took another look around the strange place he'd been invited to.
"Sorry it took me so long to see you," his daughter apologized as M'aatt stood up fully. "I was catching up with B'ly, telling her I met the real Megan Wheeler and I didn't even notice you until-"
"It's alright, M'gann," M'aatt cut his daughter off, her thoughts threatening to overwhelm him.
His little girl always turned into a chatterbox when she got excited about something.
"Why don't you go find your sister? I'm sure she'd love to hear more about it."
M'aatt felt... good. He actually felt happy as he watched his daughter run off to go and start to regale her sister with tales of meeting one of her personal heroes.
That was his real job, wasn't it? Raising food and working with his three remaining children, that was just a means to an end. Seeing his children be happy, hearing them laugh in joy or come to him to tell him about whatever had caught their interest.
From the moment his first child had been born, that had been his job. Everything else was secondary to that.
The Martian nearly jumped when he felt someone brush against his arm and turned to see who it was. Unsurprisingly, it was the human that he'd pegged as being Alchemist, holding a plate that was... not covered, no, but had a number of small but reasonable portions on it.
"Ah, sorry," the human said as it reached over the table and pulled out a sort of soup-spoon-
'Ladle', the Human's mind supplied, subconsciously labeling the item with the same loud, flat voice that was distinctly Alchemist's.
-and pouring a small puddle of red liquid with burst open chunks of something onto the plate.
"Here you go, hon," Alchemist said aloud as he bent over slightly and offered the plate to the much smaller human. "You don't have to finish everything, but give some of it a try. M'gann worked really hard to help get everything ready."
M'aatt watched the small human accept the plate and then stick her tongue out at Alchemist before wandering off.
"...She's not going to eat much of that, is she?" he asked, turning his head to look at their host.
"She's probably going to feed it to the familiars, yeah." Alchemist's spoken voice was... much less unpleasant than his mental voice. "But I have to at least try and get her to eat a bit more variety."
M'aatt closed his eyes and quietly sighed in relief.
The Earth seemed to be a nightmarish place. Too bright, too wet and too... heavy. It was horrible and he was struggling to take in anything, everything, between the inhospitable environment and the chatter distracting him from his many, many children.
But, the older man chuckled quietly as he realized, the Humans were more like him than he'd ever expected.
-----
Hypnos yawned widely as he loaded a plate full of well-seasoned and fragrant fare, offered in celebration of some mortal holiday.
Dream, his now 'Boss', seemed to feel that five days on and two days off made for an appropriate schedule, rather than endless hours with little or no personal time.
A rather large step up from his time working for Hades whilst in hiding from Zeus.
He wasn't the only one that had gotten an invitation. Lorian and Lothric were talking to a pair of green people, one of which had a baby of their own strapped to their chest the same as Lorian did.
Of course, the green baby was much easier to see in comparison to Ocelotte. Ocelotte, for reasons Hypnos hadn't been awake to hear, was apparently invisible to mortal eyes.
Cute baby, though. Both of them.
Jinx, the frightful little dragon, had found herself a group of 'younger' Martian girls to talk with. They all wore robes covered in different patterns and Jinx had brought out her own set. The stink of blood wafting from the armored Ebony robes was... a bit off-putting, Hypnos would admit, but it was hardly that big of a deal.
Once upon a time, the Titan of Sleep had shared a table with Ares. Of course the little inbred mongrel has smelled of blood, all War Gods did, but really it had been his table manners that would put the Old God off of his meal.
Which was terribly unfortunate. Hestia was a truly divine cook.
Hypnos smeared a bit of red sauce over his bird and put the chunk into his mouth, savoring the sweet, tart and savory flavors.
Hestia was a truly divine cook... but Alchemist was pretty good, too.
Turning slightly, Hypnos saw the vampire, Orlok Dracule, sitting in the doorway of Alchemist's house with a very small plate of his own. The surly bookkeeper did not seem to be enjoying the food but Hypnos had heard, underneath of the man's droll, mocking tone a slight measure of appreciation just to be included.
Putting a spoonful of stuffing into his mouth, Hypnos kept turning. The Painter and Yorshka had situated themselves away and to the side near Alchemist's handmaidens- Golems, Hypnos reminded himself. The creatures were golems. -and were enjoying their own food as well.
The two goddesses, Rosaria and Filianore were talking with a trio of white Martians. It was so strangely odd, how few of them there were in comparison to the green ones. Hypnos had no idea what to make of that.
Well, really, it was more like he didn't care. Green, red, purple, the little black one that just came in through the Gate? They were all finite. Temporary. They would sleep and pass through him into the realm of Dreams, leaving behind echoes that would go on to embed themselves into his Boss's realm but, in time, they would stop sleeping. Stop dreaming.
All things did.
And none of them had felt the need to introduce themselves to him, to put a name to a face. And, if they couldn't work up a little bit of courage and greet him?
They would be a fragile, finite existence that would be forgotten swiftly after their end.
What? Hypnos may have been the most approachable of his siblings but he was -still- a Titan!
"Ah-ah," a playful voice whispered into Hypnos's ear as a pale woman walked around him to get to the buffet tables. "Your arrogance is showing, dear."
"...Maybe a little," Hypnos admitted with a sheepish grin on his face as he sidled up shoulder to shoulder with Death...
So they could both get a slice of pie- Ooh! There was even icecream to put on it!
"Still-" Hypnos yawned, covering his mouth with the back of one hand as he paused in piling up sweets on his plate. "-I remember what happens when we get too comfortable with mortals. It's just better to let them make contact first."
"I think I would prefer it," another voice responded from Hypnos's other side and the Titan turned to meet the impossibly deep eyes of his employer. "If they did not contact us at all."
Dream of the Endless looked down at the fare being offered, the tiny pinpricks of white light buried deep in his eyes shifting to look at what Hypnos had been told was traditional foods mixed with a few other dishes that had been brought out as various plates had been emptied.
"Now now, brother," Death's playful tone became just a bit more chiding. "I was the one targeted. You had your vengeance, fell a bit farther than you thought but now look at you! All shiny and new and-"
Hypnos could literally feel the air around them turn frigid as Dream turned his gaze unto Death and caught him in the crossfire.
"I believe I'll take a plate to Del," Dream grumbled, his tone far less imposing than normal. "...Thank you, sister, for this... enlightening conversation."
Death sighed in Hypnos's ear as Dream faded away between one blink and the next. Turning his attention on the suddenly much more tired manifestation, he could see her shoulders literally drooping and her smile, not gone, but far smaller than before.
"...Sorry, Ὕπνος," the woman muttered, lethargically placing a slice of apple pie on her otherwise overflowing plate. "I was planning to stick around and give our host a bit of a fright, try and get Dream to apologize for being a bit too intense but I think I need to make a few apologies myself. Dream's changed so much and, sometimes, I treat him like his old self and..."
Death smiled at him again as Hypnos shrugged. He knew how things could be, especially with his own siblings.
Her disappearance was more sudden and far more jarring but Hypnos had dealt with worse. And stranger, besides.
The titan lifted up his plate and walked around the different groups of people. Some looked to him, those that were familiar waved to him but none attempted to disengage from whomever they were currently speaking with. They let him pass by unmolested as he worked his way back towards the small grove of fruit trees in the back of the demi-plane.
"...It is a bit noisy, isn't it?" Hypnos asked, his voice echoing among the trees. "I brought a plate, if you're hungry."
There was barely a rustling in the trees before a green-haired woman dropped out of one.
"...Thank you," Artemis bit out as she carefully took the plate from him. "Much as I... appreciate the invitation from our host-"
"You didn't have to accept it," Hypnos cut in, interrupting the girl as he leaned back and relaxed, hovering in the air. "A plate would have made its way to you even if you'd stayed home."
Home. That had been a surprise for Hypnos. The last time he'd gone to sleep, he'd been in a cabin high up on a mountain. When he'd woken up, he found himself in a square, stone building that was half-again larger than the humble accommodations that he'd been granted.
"I was invited," Artemis responded, poking at the various foods with a fork. "On Olympus, I was not often sought out for my company."
Hypnos blinked groggily as he considered that. Artemis was difficult, severe and demanding. Even for a goddess of her station. Being given an invitation, without a pressing demand from her father coercing her attendance?
The novelty of being included in something just because she could be must have been unusual for the poor girl.
"And I know Alchemist would be happy that you accepted the invitation," Hypnos told the girl, pitching his voice to be a bit more gentle. He didn't need to play up being happy or enthusiastic, here, and it was something he truly appreciated in his freedom from Hades or his mother. "But I'm quite sure he would prefer you be comfortable rather than... this."
Hypnos yawned widely as Artemis lifted an ear of corn in hand and uncertainly took a bite out of it. He could feel his eyelids drooping, his realm calling as Zeus's bastard mulled over his words.
"Perhaps next time," Artemis agreed as she set the vegetable down and picked her fork back up. "I did not expect so many people to come," she admitted quietly. "And I find myself... fatigued at how strange this all is."
"Our host is absolutely hating it," Hypnos admitted before he brought a hand up to stifle a yawn. "Ahh- I think I've caught him walking out the door to get some fresh air twice, now. So you shouldn't feel obligated to stay."
"Hmm..." the girl hummed noncommittally.
Without her father's demands upon her, without the expectations of the Pantheon pushing at her, Hypnos could tell that the girl had lost a lot of her spark. She was so used to lashing out or setting up a harsh exterior that she didn't seem to know what to do with the freedom she'd stumbled on to.
His eyes again started to drift shut as he considered his great-niece's situation. Through her domain, she'd touched on the local Artemis and there was likely some degree of blending but, from what he'd seen of her dreams?
The Artemis native to these realms was unhappy. She was a deeply angry, betrayed woman that was unable to break away to her own freedom. The Artemis in front of him, his Artemis, was so much younger and, while she'd suffered under the yoke of her father, lacked that same sense of betrayal and hurt. He was tempted to track down the cause, but...
He had a job to do and not a whole lot of free time. Unless the native Artemis dreamed of whatever was bothering her so deeply whilst he was acting as a border guard, he likely wouldn't see whatever had been done to her.
Hypnos was almost asleep when he heard a blasting trumpet, forcing him fully awake against his will.
"Doot-doo-da-doo!" the little brass instrument screamed, the mouthpiece disappearing somewhere in the face of the waist-high black Martian that Hypnos had noticed earlier.
"Excuse me, fellow Martians and filthy off-worlders!" the little creature shouted. It wore a headpiece with a wide, straw colored broom on it. A galea. And what looked like a bronze or brass skirt. "By order of Queen Tyr'ahnee, Lady of Nightmares and Princess of Shadows, the star-creature that has landed upon Mars is to present itself ee-mediately!"
The dull buzz that had been bothering Hypnos with all of the Martians around came to an abrupt halt. Quite a few of them looked between each other and Hypnos could actually feel terror mounting within the demi-plane.
The silence was broken, not by any panicked screams but rather by a tired sigh from Kar'Yashlan, the Fallen Archfiend of Chaos.
"We're busy right now," she told the little invader as she picked it up ("Hey!") and ignored its protests as she tucked it under her arm. "You can feel free to bother us when it's not a holiday."
"You will release me ee-mediately!" the black Martian shouted, its galea falling off to reveal a round, featureless black orb for its head. "I, Commander Ecks-Too will not be-"
That... was about as far as the Martian got before Kary literally held it out and then punted it through the Gate.
"...I think I'll be staying home, next time," Artemis said as she soaked her dinner roll in the cranberry sauce.
"I think I'll do the same," Hypnos agreed, another yawn on his lips.
Alchemist's food was definitely worth getting up for... but he didn't think it was worth waking up and then dealing with the kinds of shenanigans that seemed to follow the man.
-----
All in all, only ten of M'gann's siblings had shown up. Including her three brothers that Alchemist had already met.
M'gann had just been... M'gann had just been so excited to introduce each and every single one of them to Alchemist, telling him all the little things about them that she knew and most of them had been equally eager to add in their own bits and pieces.
M'comm was her closest sibling, sharing in her hardships. He was also the baby of the family. Alchemist hadn't known that the man had a fascination with history; it hadn't been part of the show, and M'comm had seemed anxious and nervous as the M'gann had held on to him and talked about the grades he used to get when they went to school.
B'ly was the closest girl to M'gann in age and the two had spent a lot of time watching 'Hello Megan!' together. Alchemist had been completely lost when the two had started quoting the show at each other and giggling.
D'a'aan and Jur'din both still lived with their parents and helped wrangle shulls but the two had very different responsibilities. D'a'aan primarily took care of the shulls and apparently had a reasonably rare gift that let him empathize with the insect-like creatures. He knew, before anyone else did, if any of them were hungry, hurt or sick.
Jur'din, in contrast... was a hick. Whether or not there might be any intelligence inside of his head, the man didn't bother engaging in it. He primarily took care of shearing the szill'ech, boxing it up and sending it off to be processed elsewhere in a specialized facility that the M'orzz family didn't own or control.
The process vaguely reminded Alchemist of a medieval grain mill. The peasantry would grow the crops and then they would either sell it off to the miller or rent a bit of time to turn their grain into flour. Whether or not that was accurate, Alchemist had no idea, but it was the comparison that had come to mind.
One of M'gann's older siblings, Ni'tan was basically a stay at home dad. The man had married a woman named D'na who was now a Y'ellon. She'd joined the order something like five years after they were wed.
Alchemist had wanted to spend some time actually asking Ni'tan some questions but his child, N'lan, had started to put up a fuss and Ni'tan practically ran back through the Gate to make his way to a bathroom suited for N'lan's needs.
The wizard would admit, should anyone feel bothered to ask, that he was struggling to keep all of the details straight and that was only the halfway mark.
Unfolding a camping chair outside of his house on Infinity Island, the bottom story of a two-story cube made of stone reinforced with darksteel, he sat down and leaned back to look up at the stars.
M'gann was sort of sad that only a third of her siblings had shown up but that was already too much for Alchemist. He'd honestly been pretty happy over the fact that most of them hadn't wanted to actually do anything involving him after M'gann's introductions. It wasn't that he didn't like them (he didn't know any of them enough for that) it was just... too much.
It was too many people, too many changes all at once. He could handle them, for a little bit, but the little reunion had been going on for a few hours and Alchemist was just... worn out.
Inhaling deeply as he gazed at the stars, his eyes idly tracking a passing satellite, Alchemist tried to think of something that could distract him for a little bit and help relax some of the tension.
Introspection, he found, was surprisingly good for that.
What were his goals? What was he working towards?
Breaking Zeus and sealing the god away in such a way that he couldn't regain his power, that was one. The wizard had a deep-seated hatred for sealing evil away and hoping it never escaped, he knew that avenue never worked out, but... killing Zeus wasn't likely to work. Shapeshifting the coward probably wouldn't work, either. Zeus was high enough up the ladder that he could probably just undo the spell with his own shapeshifting. Alchemist had already seen Toad broken that way in the past.
Alchemist quietly sighed and sank deeper into his chair. He used to be so averse to killing; he remembered just how foul he'd felt after putting down Shinra's upper management and bottom-rung attack dogs. Now, though, he still didn't like it but he wasn't hunting after each and every alternative. He'd silenced and cursed Lezard Valeth with Hasten Journey just to ensure that the monster's soul wouldn't have an opportunity to slip into a homonculus or become a lich.
Lezard had been a murderer. A slaver. Possibly a rapist, considering his deep understanding of elf and human hybrids and the sheer number of 'samples' he would've needed to experiment with and manufacture the artificial bodies he'd made for Lenneth.
Alchemist actually hadn't felt bad about snapping the necromancer's neck. He had felt bad about it not finishing the job cleanly, however. There were some lines he refused to cross and doing that kind of evil unto evil was very much one of them.
So, in short, dealing with Zeus was a big goal but that was hardly Alchemist's only goal.
Empowering the Earth's magic was another big goal. One with much, much greater risk attached to its potential rewards. Failing to break Zeus would probably just backfire on Alchemist. Overcharging the Earth's magic, however, could be a major problem for everyone on the Earth.
Which was partially why Alchemist was putting the network together on Infinity Island and not on a major leyline.
Though, admittedly, the wizard wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with the three additional Fire Crystals that the Elemental Krystelle had dropped straight into his inventory when he'd killed it in front of Batman and Robin.
Making an additional artifact on the Earth, with all of the people and places that were already subtly changing with just one crystal feeding into a lesser leyline would just... not be a good idea.
Alchemist ran a hand down his face as he considered that particular problem. Fire, along with Lightning and Wind were the most noticeable elements, the most outwardly energetic elements. If he'd been thinking straight, he would've started with Earth instead.
Much more subtle and it would've done a fantastic job laying the groundwork for the other elements to 'slot' into.
He'd debated aligning the extra crystals in his demi-plane but that was already expanding faster than it had any right to. Pushing it too much harder could cause a rupture and...
Alright, he could probably survive the void between realities but he knew the contents of his demi-planes couldn't. Alchemist liked his stuff staying whole and not destroyed or spread across countless realities and timelines.
So, those were his 'big' goals. Taking down Zeus with a minimum of collateral damage, which was taking time to set up, and putting together the other eight crystals which was... taking time to set up.
What about his smaller goals? Things that he could do while he was waiting for the other pieces to fall into place?
Working on Enchanting was one. He knew, if he took it up to level one-hundred, he'd be able to apply a second enchantment at full strength using the Nordic method. It might take a bit of work considering it would supposedly rely upon guiding the magic through a second sense but it could well be worth it.
But what about taking it further? What would happen if he took Enchanting up to his current cap? If it reached level two-hundred, would he be able to work a third enchantment into an item? Such an ability was considered a lost secret to those arts, something hoarded preciously among the gods, Daedra and dragons of Nirn.
Alchemist pushed himself up in his seat, pursing his lips as he considered that. His goal wasn't strictly power; he had that in spades for his current needs. Rather, he was curious about the potential utility.
Every one-hundred levels, the power of his spells grew statically. By level one-hundred, their strength had doubled. By level two-hundred, they'd tripled. If he took Clairvoyance/Clairaudience up to the cap, he would be able to multiply the range of a weapon by three, quadrupling its overall threat.
It wasn't a huge increase for the crossbows he was putting together for his little skeleton venture, coming up to something close to seventy-three meters of effective range and it wouldn't be worthwhile to use on his handheld guns or rifles...
The DownFall had a theoretical maximum range measured in kilometers. It already took a ridiculously long time for bullets to reach the end of their effective threat distance. Multiplying that would multiply the amount of time such that even accuracy boosts wouldn't help. At least, for anti-personnel uses. But the gun and its amazing penetration wouldn't really be -that- useful for destroying any sort of installation, though it might have some use against equipment.
Alchemist perked up slightly as Yuffie ran past him, holding a whole turkey over her head. Followed by Yuffie, then Yuffie, another Yuffie and, just to be different, another Yuffie that had Ash hot on her heels.
The dolls.
He had no idea if they were acting something close to their level of artificial maturity... or if he needed to stop Polymorphing them into Yuffie where food was involved.
Settling back into his seat as the kids ran off, Alchemist turned back to what he was ruminating on.
Enchanting.
Using it to start up a business selling unlicensed medical goods was all in good fun but that was just turning intermediary products into profit. Keeping it going would be good experience for Jinx and probably pretty empowering with her being able to turn her efforts into profits but, by and large, it was just a minor distraction for him.
Teaching the world how to benefit from magic was all and good but magical artifacts were not the same as learning to cast the spells.
And that wasn't on Alchemist's list of goals at the moment. He'd given away quite a bit of magical knowledge to the League but, overall, it would be better for the Earth if her people developed their own rituals and-
Alchemist sighed in frustration as the various issues with that bubbled up and into his thoughts.
The Earth already had a number of practitioners. Primarily people that could do little to nothing. Secondarily in the form of old families that horded and stole every scrap of arcane knowledge they could and then pulled the ladder up after them and left behind booby-traps in the form of demon-summonings that looked incredibly innocuous to the scrabbling, ignorant hedge mages.
...He was going to have to look into adding some books to the online catalogue offered by Alchemic Solutions.
And he'd gotten distracted. An unfortunate problem, given the number of things he had to work on and how little real-time he had to do them all in.
While the skeleton archers and their equipment were an intermediary goal of enchanting, they weren't the desired end-result. Alchemist had two objects in specific that he wanted to improve and he intended on cheating to see them empowered far, far beyond the rest. He'd already gotten a spell that would increase skill results and he had the ingredients to create a potion that would further empower Enchanting...
He just needed to take it up to its maximum level of skill before he used Enchanting to modify his tank or the Harlock's cannon.
Was it necessary?
Absolutely not.
But he needed some kind of personal project that wasn't focused on making golems or advancing some big, nightmarish plot that could backfire in the worst of ways.
"So," a cold voice rang into Alchemist's mind, interrupting his thoughts as he pondered trying to learn the Pathfinder version of Break, and the very requisite spell Eldritch Conduit so he wouldn't be casting it on himself. "This is where our host has disappeared to?"
Turning in his seat, Alchemist saw one of the numerous green Martians that had come through the Gate. It took him a second to place them- her- before he recognized her robes.
"Hello, M'ree," Alchemist said out loud as he extracted another lawn chair from his inventory and held it out for the woman. "Curiosity finally get the better of you?"
"Curiosity -is- part of my job," she admitted, taking the chair from him. She struggled for a moment to figure it out, looking between the chair he sat in and the one in her hands for a bit before she carefully pried it open. "And I was told some things that I would like to better understand."
"Go ahead and ask," he told her, shifting his gaze back up to the moon. "I'll answer what I can but, if I don't know something, well, I don't know something."
"...Your magic is unlike what I've witnessed from the practitioners back home," M'ree started off with. Really it wasn't a question, more of an observation, but there was an unasked 'why' hidden within.
"...I can't really begin to explain how the Y'ellon or B'lahdenn cast magic, so I'm afraid that I can't explain the differences," Alchemist admitted, openly and without shame. "My own magic primarily works by enacting specific phenomena on my surroundings utilizing myself and my own strength to determine potency and area of effect."
Which was reasonably accurate, if vague.
"Which conveniently explains nothing," M'ree noted, her mental voice clearly frustrated.
"Would you prefer a demonstration?" Alchemist offered, picking up the dirty plate that he'd brought with him when he last fled the demi-plane. He offered it to the woman, who hesitantly took it. "That's clearly soiled, yes? Dirty, greasy, hasn't been cleaned yet. Now, what I mean by specific phenomena is that a spell will super-impose a concept upon reality, targeted at a person, place or thing. More powerful concepts can be increasingly vague, allowing for significantly more flexibility in purpose, rather than thought. So, a very, very low-level spell could do something specific, such as 'Clean that plate'," Alchemist said as he snapped his fingers, using Prestidigitation to do exactly as he said and leaving the once-greasy plate now sparkling clean.
The woman lifted the plate and looked at it; she even held it flat before her eyes and used the reflected light of the moon to look for any discrepancies. Finally, she ran one of her three fingers over the surface, coming away clean.
"...That is far more direct than the clergy's magic," M'ree muttered, flipping the plate over as she examined it. Turning her eyes back on him, M'ree continued, "This seems more akin to a specific tool in how you've described it, though I still have no idea how, exactly, you did so."
"On that front, I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you. Magic does follow a chain of cause and effect; it just doesn't follow a chain of cause and effect that lines up with conventional logic," Alchemist explained, perking up slightly as he explained things. A one-on-one conversation on a topic he actually enjoyed? That was much, much more tolerable than handling a group. "At a certain level, magic becomes a means of applying an individual's will unto the world. This can manifest in direct changes of state, such as that plate, but others might find manifesting elements or calling creatures from nothing a better use of their energies."
"How is that possible?" M'ree asked, leaning forward in her chair and placing her elbows on her knees so she could join her hands just under her chin. "Altering the state of an object such as the plate, that would fall under one of possibly a dozen possibilities. From time travel, unrealized reality manipulation, possibly even raw reality manipulation. And you imply this to be a low level of spell?"
Alchemist grinned as the woman spoke. This part, he could actually have fun with.
"It's closer to raw reality manipulation," Alchemist agreed, leaning forward himself. "But it's far less energy intensive than you may think. Reality is flexible; it can be edited and altered provided that one knows what they're doing. Magic, like what I've learned, is one means of doing so but advanced enough technology is perfectly capable of doing the same, if through different means. At their highest levels, magic and technology are indistinguishable. The Green Lanterns, much as they might argue, utilize a specific energy source that outright violates a handful of 'hard' laws of physics in ways even they can't adequately explain away. Their technology is just advanced enough that it can manipulate the energy in a way that is consistent and replicable."
M'ree sat back in her chair, a pensive look on her face as she looked up at a moon that was foreign to her.
"...You aren't what I was expecting," she admitted after several long moments of silence.
Alchemist wasn't actually sure what she'd been expecting so he didn't know if that had been a compliment or an insult.
"M'gann mentioned that you'd met 'L'zoril', the god of Dreams. I'd figured you for some kind of cultist, just like the rest of the people that believe in the false gods." M'ree's voice was soft as she spoke, possibly in their version of a whisper. "Everyone, the sane people anyway, they all know that dreams aren't real."
"...How old are you?" Alchemist asked after nearly a minute of chewing on her statement.
"In Earth years? Fifty- wait, isn't it rude to ask a lady how old she is here?"
Fifty-something.
She'd been born back in the fifties or sixties.
"...L'zoril," Alchemist bit out, forcing himself to continue, "Dream. Of the Endless. He was imprisoned before you were born. He only escaped imprisonment about twenty years ago."
M'ree... grew up without dreaming. She grew up without seeing the realm of imagination and nightmares.
Alchemist had no idea how severe the repercussions of Dream's imprisonment really were. Logically, statistically, he understood. He'd seen the numbers that had been thrown around.
But those had been for Earth, not reality at large.
And knowing something and seeing it, they were two very different things.
"...You sound like you actually have met him."
Alchemist exhaled slowly. He didn't... He didn't like thinking about that day. About any part of that day.
"I... yeah," he admitted, breaking away from M'ree's crimson eyes. "It was probably the most terrifying moment of my life, this life. He was... not happy."
The wizard had to look down, away from the stars. He had a feeling that something, that someone was looking back down on him.
He was going to struggle with getting to sleep tonight. He just knew it.
AN/ Happy new year, everybody!
