Chapter 17 : Slow Hand

Mnemon Rhomon, Sorcerer

Realm Year 764, Resplendent Wood

The Lap, The Lap, Satrapy of the Realm

“Is this the man we’re searching for?” Brahm asked, standing next to him with a bag slung over his shoulder. The sloping stone streets of the city leading straight up and along the ridge of the carved mountain.

Their allies were off seeking boarding, transport, and retrieving a shopping list worth of ingredients from the local markets. They’d meet back at the entrance by evening before making their way back to whatever their nightly homes were. 

They were somewhere upon the left leg of the mountainous statue, along a neighborhood of adobe buildings that were slightly less ostentatious than the housing that Rhomon could spy along the folds of the right leg, thousands of meters away and over a canyon that was the statue’s crotch. All along the outer edges of each leg was an enormous quantity of scaffolding, cranes, and windmills, which pulled up grain and processed it before pulling it further into the interior of the city.

All the while, the slightly-damaged statue’s face loomed in the misty distance, half-hidden behind the clouds above. 

He’d love to have a summer home here. The views were frankly incredible. 

“It would be strange if he wasn’t.” Rhomon admitted, turning his attention back from his lizardbird’s eyes and onto the very homeless looking man before them. Long scruffy white hair and beard, withered features, dirty white robes, and currently in the process of muttering to himself while finger-painting in the mud. 

There was a pair of distinct lines, or perhaps tattoos, that geometrically traced along the man’s cheeks, through his eyes, and back up into his hairline. His skin was unusually pale for someone who apparently spent all his time outdoors, and his eyes were a vaguely amber shade. Somewhere between orange and gold. 

“Unless there are two old men wearing dirty white robes while acting as deranged mendicants.” Rhomon wiggled his hand.

“Perhaps it is a fashion of this place.” Brahm muttered, making Rhomon smirk and shake his head. Reaching into his bag, Rhomon retrieved a trio of talismans. A lucky charm, a charm to fortify the mind, and a third charm to mute out mentally distracting things.

Talismans in hand, he approached the old man playing in the mud, making sure to be open and obvious in his approach. The old man barely noticed, but several passersby glanced over before rapidly moving along.

“Best not try, sweetie.” An old woman called out from her home, speaking in Firetongue, shaking sheets onto lines. “The poor dear is as crackbrain as they come!” 

Rhomon smiled and nodded, but didn’t reply. Approaching the man and crouching down. Briefly he glanced at the muddy writing. Old realm characters written about as perfectly as they could in mud using a finger, reciting long-winded legal gibberish. 

‘...thus exploiting the procedures of the gods, in conspiracy, to aid in crimes of terrestrial interest, amounting to a severity four offense…’

Rhomon smiled sadly, and spoke a word in Old Realm. “Swan Dragon, Honored Censor?” He asked gently, adjusting his bearing like a courtier. 

The old man blinked, finger-scribbling stopping. He paused briefly, before pulling back and letting his eyes wander around aimlessly, searching for the voice. “...Missive… Missive. Missing. Something’s missing…” The Old Realm was scratchy, as if rarely used, and the old man’s voice sounded terribly lost. He was looking for something invisible, not looking at him.

“I’ve come to present gifts, Honored Censor.” Rhomon spoke again, giving a little bow and holding the talismans forwards. “And a request to enjoy the meager comforts of my home. I would like to speak with you on private matters.” 

The old man blinked again, eyes focusing on the material world once again, before roaming over to him. He looked up and down, then up and down again, before getting lost somewhere at his sandals and eyes wandering to the side.

“Honored Censor, the gifts?” Rhomon reminded gently, holding the talismans forwards and shaking them slightly.

“Oh, gifts. Gifts. Get. I..” The old man paused, eyes furrowing and staying completely still. “...I have daughters, don’t I?”

Rhomon took a mild risk of stepping forwards, gently laying the talismans around his neck, one at a time. The old man blinked, eyes turning to the talismans as they were placed, hand coming up to tug at them slightly. Mud encrusted fingers dirtied each talisman in turn, fingers making exploratory gropes and brushes as he worked to figure out what each was by touch.

After a few long moments of exploration, the old man grew very still, staring at nothing in particular. Rhomon pulled back slowly, returning to a courtier’s posture, and waiting patiently for a reaction from the old spirit. 

Nearly two minutes passed in that manner. Brahm walked up to his side and sent him a raised brow, expression sympathetically dour. Rhomon held up a hand to indicate patience, and the pair of them watched the old man in silence for some time. 

“I’m wearing…” The old man began slowly, making a glimmer of hope blossom in his chest. “...Some talismans…”

“Talismans to help you focus your mind, Honored Censor.” Rhomon replied gently, bowing his head. “Please keep wearing them.” 

At this point the old man’s gaze finally focused enough to linger on him, his brow furrowing in thought, a titanic effort to focus behind those unsteady eyes. “...A mortal boy.” his voice filled with a vague curiosity. His hand grasped around the talismans around his neck again, fiddling with them for another long few moments. “...Did you make these?”

“I did, Honored Censor.” Rhomon nodded.

“You’re doing very well for your age. Make sure to continue your studies, alright? Enchanting is a fine profession, Devon’s college will do you well.” The old man smiled at him, still crouching in the mud. 

The Devonian College had been destroyed more than a thousand years ago. Rhomon smiled and bowed his head. “Thank you, Honored Censor. Would you accept my invitation as well?”

“Invitation… Invitation…” The old man muttered. “Oh. Lusa invited me to his home, didn’t he?”

“Not that invitation, Honored Censor. I invite you to my modest home, will you accept it?”

“Oh, an invitation.” The old man blinked. “But I have work to do…” He muttered, glancing down to the legalese written in the mud. 

“Honored Goddess Wun Ja would like for you to take a hiatus for mental wellbeing, Honored Censor.” Rhomon said again, doing his best to convince the old man. Wun Ja, Goddess of Cities and leader of the Bureau of Humanity, was one of Swan Dragon’s old superiors and close friends.

“Oh… Wun Ja… Wun Ja. She’s that type, isn’t she?” The old man muttered. “I will have to leave my work to my aides for the time, I suppose.” He stood and turned to look at a Heron on a rooftop, who was perched and eating a fish. “Lee, make sure to file everything appropriately for my return- I will be checking your work!”

The Heron gave a heron-bark, which was an odd sound to hear from a bird.

“Forgive him, he’s new.” The old man shook his head, brushing his hands in nothing and shaking them off. Rhomon nodded in understanding, before stepping back and gesturing down the road. 

“Will you follow me, Honored Censor?”

“Yes… Where does Wun Ja want me to go, again?” The old man asked with furrowed brows. 

“A house of healing in An-Teng. Are you familiar with it? She wants you to attune to it with its hearthstone in hand.”

“A hearthstone… Which hearthstone?” The old man muttered in confusion. Rhomon retrieved the compass from his armor, withdrew the gem of mental health, and handed it gently to the old man. “... Class three manse of wood.” He murmured, inspecting the stone. 

“Oh!” The old man smiled fondly. “She teases me.” He shook his head. “Yes yes, Wun Ja, I understand.” He handed the hearthstone back with a twinkle in his eyes. “She never speaks her honest mind, you know? She tells me she’s concerned by commanding an inspection of the House of Hale Mind, knowing that I’ll be obliged to visit Golden Lord and his good company along the way home.”

“It is not my place to speak of Wun Ja’s intentions, Honored Censor. Would you like a bath before we retire for the night?”

“Oh- yes a bath would be good.”

—

“We don’t have most of the ingredients here, but I should be able to make a substitute from more commonly available stock.” Rhomon explained as he monitored a set of boiling glass containers and sticks of metal that laid on top of them, on the other side of a lead rim. “It might not be quite as potent, but you’ll be able to make it anywhere in Creation that has a decent market.”

“Thank you, sir Rhomon.” Shuri smiled with a slightly flushed face, toes curling and uncurling as he stood by the doorway. His hands were clasped together firmly, white-knuckled, and his knees were practically locked. “I appreciate this.”

It was the expression and posture of someone doing their absolute best to restrain themselves. Shuri wasn’t lying when he described the afflictions of his people, it seemed. 

“Certainly- now pay attention, I’ll explain it from the top one more time.” Rhomon waggled a finger, ignoring the snake-prince’s troubles. “Lust is a trait associated with fire and wood, so whatever base ingredient you choose needs to have those lingering associations removed. In this case, we’re using beer.”

“Ah, doesn’t alcohol… lower inhibitions, sir Rhomon?” Shuri asked with a grimace, locking his arms together over his chest. 

“Normally yes, but it's also a libido suppressor if drunk in abundance. It messes up your hormonal balance. We’ll be using a grain-based alcohol like wheat or barley specifically, because breads and dairy also throw off hormonal balances.”

“Hormones?”

“The humors.”

“Ah, we see…” Shuri swallowed nothing, gaze locking to the side of the wall. 

“Now the refined beer is just the start. That will handle part of the libido suppression. Which is why we’ll boil soy, mint, and licorice into the blend before beginning the extraction process. With their fire and wood natures removed, all you’re left with is a liquid relaxant that throws off sexual balances. It might make you a bit sleepy.”

“The next step will be removing the water aspects with a stick of black jade.” Rhomon wagged a finger. Shuri’s eyes followed the finger closely. “Remember, green jade for wood first, then red jade, then black. We’ll be left with a…” He reached over and cut the essence-flow to the vial by removing it from the plate. After a few moments to wait for it to stop boiling, he slowly extracted the stick from the top.

The bit of black jade was caked in a blend of black material, something akin to seaweed mush or oceanic silt. He set it on a tray and used a knife to peel it away, letting the blend of elemental water and bits of associated material clean from the flat stick. Two similar trays of elemental gunk sat on the table, wood junk associated with the green stick, and red junk associated with the red stick.

He glanced inside the vial and smirked, taking it up and shaking it at the snake. 

Inside, a blue-white powdery material was left. Light and flaky now that everything else had been removed, smelling strongly of mint. Shuri leaned forwards to inspect it, seemingly instinctively arching his back in the process. 

“Here, add this to your tea, to counter the sleepiness.” Rhomon commanded, tipping the glass vial over on a new plate and tapping it twice. The pale blue flakes spilled out as a pile of disordered dust. “Measure out one pinky worth. It should have similar effects to the Serpent-Taming Brew, if slightly less so.”

“Ah, thank you very much, sir Rhomon.” Shuri smiled tightly, reaching over to take the tray and almost immediately retreating with it. “Please pardon us, we must go make tea.”

“Tell Brahm I’ll be over with the old man’s tea, soon.” Rhomon waved off, briefly staring at the waste products and wondering what he’d be doing with them. If nothing else, he could brew a weird drink for Siata to try, he supposed. Shuri fled the room almost immediately. 

They were in a noble reserve apartment somewhere along the right leg at the moment. A location Siata had managed to win them for the night using a combination of status and money. It wasn’t a very large building, but it had all the necessary amenities and bedrooms for the night, so Rhomon wasn’t about to complain. 

Brahm was currently helping Swan Dragon through a bath, Siata was probably lounging around, and he wasn’t sure if Melia had already left or not. Last he heard she planned to stay with them for one night before heading off to Paragon with hired escorts, but that was a good hour ago now. 

He hummed, going through the process of bottling the waste-products he had extracted and cleaning off the trays and vials. It was important to have a full-reset before each batch of potions you made.

It was exceptionally helpful that all of his tools were thoroughly enchanted to always be clean, making the washing process almost effortless. It was like having non-stick pans for everything, it was awesome. 

With everything thoroughly cleaned again, and the waste products bottled with their ingredients and element, he started the process of making another potion.

Swan Dragon was not a mortal, so the normal mortal potions would have absolutely no effect on him. In order to affect him, it would take a bit of magical kick and slightly different ingredients and methods. 

Rhomon reached into his bag and withdrew a single coin of white jade. Destroying one of these was technically a crime, but he didn’t particularly care. With a specialized chisel and hammer, he began the process of dividing the mystical rock into sections, then subsections, then brought the eight pieces over to a specialized bowl and stick.

A specialty enchanted mortar and pestle, designed for use in the chisel method. He grabbed a white hammer and round stick, both of which were white jade alloyed into steel, and began to hammer the coin in place. 

Slowly, the coin was smashed into a powder. A kind of rock-salt made from one of the five magical materials. It would provide the much needed spiritual oomph that the potion would need.

White jade, associated with elemental earth. Balanced, coordinated, mentally whole, stubborn, stable- all things that would be good to impart upon his subject. 

Eating jade dust alone wasn’t very helpful, however, so he’d need to blend it with some other ingredients. Naturally, each ingredient would need to be loaded with the kind of stress-reducing and calming chemicals he was after here, as well as enough sympathetic magical traits to actually effect his target.

Green tea leaves, dark chocolate, dried blueberries, oats, walnuts, pumpkin seeds, the feather of a Flame Duck, a single hair from his subject, and cherry juice as a base. He was looking for stability and focus, so he’d extract wood and water traits from it and leave a flaky earth-air-fire blend. 

Water always needed to be the last thing you removed via this method, otherwise the concoction wouldn’t have any base to float around in, making it nearly impossible to remove anything else.

Normally he’d remove fire too, but if it did that it might just dissolve his sympathetic links as well and render the entire batch a waste-

“Am I interrupting, master?” Melia’s soft voice called from the doorway.

“Yes, but not enough to throw off my work.” Rhomon replied with a nod. “Did you need something?”

“I was ushered out of the main room when the snake tripped on his way to the kitchen and landed right in the dragon’s crotch.” Melia waved a hand dismissively, walking over to him and standing behind him as he worked. “I wasn’t in the mood to watch others fornicate, nor join them.”

Rhomon stared at the bubbling concoction for a few moments. “I suppose I’ll have to make the tea for him then.” He huffed in a vaguely annoyed manner. “If he tripped and wasted it on the way to the kitchen.”

“It took three seconds for the dragon’s belt to be tossed aside- I didn’t think the snake had it in him. I don’t know who was more surprised, myself or Siata.” Melia commented amusedly. “I think I prefer to keep you company instead, master.”

“You’ll be leaving in the morning, right? You have everything you need for the trip?” Rhomon asked. “Jade for the mercenaries and charter, extra clothes and rations- all that?”

Melia stared at him in a slightly unimpressed manner, before huffing and nodding her head. “Yes yes, I have everything I need. That book full of everything I know- I slipped it into one of your travel bags.”

“Good good. Remember that the Perfect can see through your eyes after you accept his oath, even after you leave Paragon.” Rhomon commented, pulling out the first stick, setting it aside, and putting in the second stick of jade. The process of refinement began again. “I’ll probably come visit Paragon in a few months- I’ll be trading for their alchemical knowledge and giving a few messages to their king before moving on.”

“I sometimes forget how arrogant you are, behind that obnoxious grin.” Melia said, leaning forwards to rest her chin on his head. The scent of her plum perfume surrounded him as she used his scalp as a pillow. 

“Hubris is the first motion of Heroism.” He waggled a finger before ignoring her touch and checking the potions again.

There was a relaxed quiet for a time. In the distance, Rhomon could hear a pair of muffled moans.

“They’re kinda loud, aren’t they?” He grumbled with a glance down the doorway. 

“You’re frustratingly oblivious.” Melia said with a frown, using her chin to rub the top of his head.

“If you want attention, you'll have to wait till after this potion is done.” Rhomon said bluntly, reaching up to poke her in the shoulder. “This is important work.”

She silently watched as he went through the process, adding sticks, waiting a bit, removing sticks, scraping off excess, before finally starting to bottle things up and add labels. 

“If you go back to An-Teng… you’ll be in danger…” She began with a hesitant tone. “Galan… he’s a Prince of the Earth. He’s powerful, more powerful than any of you. He speaks and people obey even when they shouldn’t…”

“This task is more important than my life.”

“Curing one old man of his derangement?”

“Yes.” 

The alchemist was quiet for a while, as he finished bottling his potions and setting them down, finally turning around to face Melia more directly. “Now, what is it that you wanted?”

She stared at him with an unreadable expression for a few seconds, before letting a sly smile come across her face. “Master, I wanted to ask your insight. I made some of my products with the method you taught me, but I need to test them.” She made a sinuous motion before stepping over to the table and letting her robes fall, revealing her bare shoulders.

“What kind of potions?” Rhomon asked, already getting a pretty clear idea of what she was talking about.

“Bedroom enhancers~” She smiled, pulling a pair of vials out and shaking them between her fingers. 

He wasn’t sure what provoked this sudden lust in his aide, but he wasn't exactly complaining either.