Chapter 108: Alchemist Ascendant

Subject: Gwen Location: Maliscade - Gate District - Protoflora: Envisioned Ecosystems Envisioned Ecosystems was a small shop tucked away in the densely populated Gate District of Maliscade. The owner was a serenely eccentric woman named Novette, who also happened to be an ancient, someone who's been alive for far longer than than the typical lifespan of her kind. For Novette, her kind was that of a human, and that meant forty to eighty years, depending on one's genetics, social status, and other such rolls of the dice. Gwen and Caim hadn't asked how this was possible when it was revealed. Gwen knew better than to pry into the life of someone who'd clothed her and provided her with a comfortable part-time job. She didn't know how anyone could possibly live that long, only that people like that existed. They were usually nobles, and few came forward to reveal their enviably longevity to the public, so it wasn't a stretch to guess that it had something to do with expensive treatments. But here Novette was, seemingly mid-born and relatively impoverished for a shopkeeper. Caim probably didn't care. Her new botanist business partner's privacy aside, Gwen didn't really need to know just yet. She was curious, yes, but she was also overwhelmed. If the truth was offered at this very moment, she might not be able to handle it. Even though she’d received permission to drop by whenever she liked, Gwen still felt uncomfortable being here, in the shop's adjoining greenhouse. Novette, who had a habit of calling this location the "plant nursery", greeted her pleasantly, if a little sleepily. Novette's characteristic laziness wasn't why she felt out of place. Even living with Nina, she felt like she didn’t belong. Nina was a Seeker Champion. She was a friend of Caim's friend, Alice, but that isn't how Nina had come to invite her to stay. Nina thought Gwen was cute, and Gwen was currently homeless. Gwen hated this feeling. These are actually decent quality fumes," she realized, studying the trapped gases in the translucent bottle. I’m glad I made the purchase. Mystic was classified as a rushblight blightsource, a subcategory of blightfume. As the name implied, they were only found in festerfonts. Gwen traded them with ease, but she couldn't harvest them. Her prized possession, a custom-tinkered harvest drill, was more of a hobby project than a tool of trade. Even though she wanted to use it one day, she couldn't get over the fear. Why weren't the seekers as fearful as her? Maybe she just wasn't cut out for it... Gwen had familiarized herself with many varieties of blightsources during her brief stint as a legitimate merchant. Her provisionary registration was still active within the city of Maliscade and its outlying territories, so the sale was completely legal. Refining the gaseous blightsources without a license was probably illegal, but no one was here to enforce that, and she had already recieved permission from Novette, who authorized the experiment knowing of Gwen's debts. The Greys were not ones to mess with. Having fallen for their just-barely-legal trickery, one mistake was all it took to fall under their boots. She wanted to be free as soon as possible. She glanced up at Novette, admiring not only her beautiful wavy green hair, but her happy-go-lucky attitude. Gwen wished she could feel like that. Novette was a peculiar kind of botanist specializing in flourishflora, but her shop sold flower arrangements. It was the result of some kind of mix-up with the displayed title of the business, and ignorance on the part of the general populace, but that didn't matter because she practiced botany like it was her job. With little demand for her passion, she was barely scraping by with her real business. At least, that was formerly the case. Once Gwen came around to managing the finances, the business was experiencing a gradual turnaround. It started as a bit of a charity job, but Gwen found an abundance of low-hanging fruit within the shop, from poorly negotiated supply contracts, to wasteful spending. Add in uncapitalized business ventures, and don't forget about everything in between. Having fixed what she could in a flurry, Gwen found herself with some time on her hands. "Coin slips through idle fingers", was how the expression went. And passive palms cannot catch. This humble merchant didn’t much understand what all these botany tools were for, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t use some of them for her own purposes. With permission, of course. She was a merchant, a financial advisor, and an amateur artisan. Now, she would try to use all of those skills together. If she failed, so be it. Her back was already against the wall, and that Grey, the crazy Bearer of Red, already had his fingers tightening around her neck. The samples lined up in corked bottles were all commonly found in nearby festerfonts, but they were uncommonly used. A harvester that happened across a fume vent would usually pass it by for a number of reasons. Blightfumes were difficult and unsafe to store, and a specialist would prefer to seek out more in-demand rushblight fumes, like surge or edge, or go for high-value miasmeta or blightmists. Those latter subcategories of blightfumes could be sold to "discriminating" clientele, with loose purse strings and loose morals alike... The Guild would always buy every blightsource, though, and it made Gwen wonder why that was. Sure, their prices were not always desirable, but they couldn't actually have a need for all of it, right? Where did they store it? What am I doing? I have enough to worry about. I need to be useful to Caim. This wasn't some variety of irrational affection, she reminded herself. It was a transactional repayment of all he'd done for her. It was also a down-payment on his future support of her business ventures, what with her involvement with the dangerous Greys and their "legitimate" not-strictly-criminal enterprises. Caim had appeared when she had the greatest need, like those heroic seekers in the stories she'd read growing up. Even if he didn't look it, or act like it... She couldn't stay objective. Everyone else had just ignored her. They treated her with compassion until she had real need. Then, she was a dangerous burden, a pariah. Just when she'd given up on people, especially city residents, he'd come along. He'd given her hope. The warmth in her chest was somewhat like how it felt to think of her family, only a little different. Caim was a mage. Gwen didn’t understand why, but practiced mages inhaled mystic like their lungs needed it to breathe. She didn’t need to know why this was in order to believe that Caim would be grateful to have the advantage. It isn't like I haven't tried to find out what mystic does for mages. People just act strangely whenever I ask them, and it gives me chills. Mages are weird. Caim's a different kind of weird, though. I'll let him decide what to do with it. There weren't even all that many mages in the first place, but a higher percentage of them clustered around the Blightbane Guild. There, their talents were in demand, and they could make a living without sacrificing their freedoms to Shroud, as was the case with so many state-employed mages. She didn’t even have to pay for the formula, fortunately enough. A mage affiliated with Nina’s party had offered it up in exchange for a sample from Gwen’s first batch. That was an easy promise to keep, especially considering she had already mentioned that she might produce only failed batches. I bought the reagents with Caim's coin, though, she reminded herself. He said it was fine to use it, but is it really? What if I'm never able to pay it back? Her hands worked Novette’s tool with all the plodding grace of a child learning to walk. Nina says Initiates don’t buy performance enhancers because they can’t afford them on the coin earned from contracts available to them. If I made them here, and used Novette’s tools to test that they were safe, he wouldn’t need to buy them! I can give a batch to her associate and sell the rest to make back what I borrowed. She had to put the mechanical device down to steady her hand's shaking. When she picked it up, she slotted it into a transparent box, inside which, she'd contained one of the blightrush bottles. This box would contain the gases so she wouldn't be breathing them in. It had holes where she could reach in with gloved hand to manipulate the contents without risk of exposing herself. The amateur blightsource chemist was also wearing a mask to guard against stray vapors. The chamber in the top of the box, where the measuring tool was inserted, was also airlocked to prevent leaks. Novette had already owned all of this strange technology. Whatever she used it for, Gwen hadn't the slightest clue. It wasn't as if Gwen had suddenly had the idea of processing blightfumes in this plant nursery and subsequently asked Novette to procure most of the necessary tools. No, they were already here. Gwen had taken inventory on the clutter in the shop, and then she'd moved on to the nursery. Novette was as intelligent as she was lethargic. She had accumulated knowledge, and in her time as a research scientist, she acquired a wealth of tools, as well as the knowhow to use them. Novette had explained to Gwen what each one did, and how long it had been since she'd last used them. Surprisingly, she conducted flourishflora research quite often. Surprisingly, only because she appeared so lazy. She doesn't have ambition... Gwen lamented. She acts like a kid without a care in the world, but she's smarter than she looks! She watched the uncorked bottle leaking gas into the sealed box, until it was evenly dispersed. Then, she leaned close to peer at the fine needles of the measurement tool in the slot above. She didn't know how the tool measured the concentrations of gases, but she trusted in Novette's knowledge. Novette had said that the principle was the same as when "achieving a bonding state in the production of gaseous fertilizers ", whatever that meant. "It's between the numbers on the paper here!" she cheered, staring at three color-coded notches. Unrefined rushblight vapors were nowhere near as expensive as the finished product. The only coin-sink had been the special storage containers arrayed at her side. Novette already owned a strange tube that could be used to regather all the gaseous product again and separate it into the new containers. When she’d gotten the idea and finally voiced her intentions, taking into account Novette's tools, Novette was quick to support her with more than she would ever ask for. She taught Gwen how to use the tools well enough for her purposes, promising to lecture her on the theory when there was more time. Gwen thought that this eagerness might be the result of Caim's influence. His spell had allowed Novette to begin that new experiment, and it breathed life into the sleepy botanist’s routine, giving her a renewed chance at her dream of studying flourishflora professionally. Whether this could actually happen was all in Caim's hands. The amateur blightsource alchemist continued the work until she'd successfully processed a batch of the drug. Gwen began storing it inside the bottles, careful not to mess up. And here I feel bad for thinking she was a little lazy. She was really just "held back", like I was. Last, there was the matter of Caim's declaration of rebellion. Socioeconomic rebellion, at the very least. They'd be killed if words like that reached the wrong person's ears. Normally, Gwen would have thought about reporting something like that herself. Her recent experiences as a homeless victim of Greys, saddled with a mountain of debt, had changed her opinions. Maybe he's forgotten all about it. On the off-chance he hasn't... I'm with him. The world is scary. But, somehow, putting myself in more danger feels like a better choice, if it means I'm doing it with the two of them, for the right reasons. Gwen touched a hand to her chest and felt the warmth renewed.