hwango

This is my entry for the writing activity on the

brigits_flame community. The prompt for this week was "Mortals."

In 1214, at the age of sixteen, Karsten completed his apprenticeship and became a journeyman alchemist.

Like any young alchemist with a head full of dreams, Karsten longed to duplicate one of the legendary accomplishments of the alchemists of ancient times – to turn lead into gold or to create a potion that granted eternal life. But, while these lofty fantasies bubbled in the back of his brain, he devoted most of his attentions to the somewhat more mundane tasks of making solvents, glues, explosives, and all of the other myriad concoctions that were an alchemist's stock in trade. There was but one other subject that captured his attentions - one that he would never think of as mundane. Janessa.

Janessa was kind, beautiful, and most importantly she had almost superhuman tolerance for Karsten's tendency to become so wrapped up in his work that he would forget comparatively trivial matters such as food and sleep. His proposal of marriage to her was not the stuff of bards and poets. He had been in the midst of a lengthy description of his vast and enduring love for her when a kettle in his laboratory began to whistle and he had been forced to leave her standing on her own in the hallway for several minutes. The fact that she was still waiting there when he returned was a source of great relief to him, and the fact that she accepted his proposal after he finished his speech continued to amaze him even years later.

In 1217, Karsten put aside his work for an entire day so that he and Janessa could be married.

* * *
In 1226, Karsten came to possess a copy of the incredibly rare Codex Volisarium. A traveling peddler had passed through town, and Karsten had happened upon the tome while browsing through the man's small and eclectic collection of books. At first he had scoffed at it as an obvious forgery. Though it was dirty, showed signs of serious water damage, and had a large piece missing from it, it was clearly not old enough to be what the cover claimed it to be. But Karsten had opened it anyway, and had been astonished to find that at some point the book had been rebound, and that the pages within seemed as if they might actually be genuine. Karsten had paid the man a sum that was rather more than the value of a fake, and substantially less than that of the real thing. One of the men had profited considerably, but only time would tell which of them it was.

Karsten studied the tome carefully before attempting any of the formulae it contained. In time, though, the only way to be truly certain about the contents of the book was to test them. The first experiment was a success, as were all of those that followed. Karsten's work had consumed him before, but now it turned into obsession. One of the formulae in the book was that for the Elixir of Everlasting Life. The pages containing it were among those that were seriously damaged, however. He had most of the puzzle, and knew that if he could just work out what the missing pieces were it would be the greatest triumph in modern history.

Janessa was incredibly tolerant and understanding, though she was disappointed to see the share of Karsten's time allotted to her continue to shrink in favor of that given to the Codex.

Eventually, Janessa decided that she would have to intrude ever so slightly on his private world if she was to spend any real time with him. Every day for many years, Janessa had brought him a cup of tea in the afternoon, leaving it at the edge of his workbench and silently departing so as not to disturb him. This time, she brought two cups and a chair.

She quietly set the chair by the door, placed both cups next to her, and sat down to wait. As usual, Karsten had not noticed her enter, busy as he was scribbling frantically with one hand and adjusting the heat under a ceramic crucible with the other.

After a moment, Karsten paused and sniffed the air uncertainly. He turned to look at the spot where he usually found his tea, and saw nothing. Confusion evident on his face, Karsten turned completely around in his chair and spotted Janessa and the tea.

“How long have you been there?” he asked.

“As long as the tea has, dear," Janessa said. "It doesn't carry itself in here, you know.”

“Hm. Quite inefficient," Karsten said with a smile. "Once I’ve unlocked immortality, as my next task I shall have to devise a self-transporting variety of tea.”

Janessa raised an eyebrow and smiled. “As it happens, I had a similar idea, though mine was somewhat less ambitious.”

“Oh yes?”

“I merely thought that once you've conquered death itself that you might learn to brew your own tea. I’m happy to make it for you, but I mislike the idea of making it for you for all eternity." She rose from her chair and crossed the few steps between them to place his tea in its customary place. Then she rested a hand on his shoulder, and he covered it with his own. He was always amazed at how warm her hands felt whenever he touched them.

* * *
In 1243, Karsten still had not learned to make his own tea. He had been forced to reduce the time he devoted to the Elixir in order to avoid financial ruin, but it still haunted him, seemingly forever just out of his grasp. Over the years, he had managed to reconstruct several of the early stages of the formula, and each new scrap of progress renewed his determination that he would eventually succeed in recreating the whole process.

When not seeing to the other needs of the household, Janessa frequently came to watch him work. Often he would talk to her distractedly and sometimes forget that she was there, but at least she had not lost him entirely to his obsession.

But as the years passed, Janessa found that her own work took her longer than it used to, and she had less and less time to visit Karsten in his laboratory, and was able to share his tea with him less and less often. Karsten began to notice her absences, and at first he made an effort to come and visit her instead. But then he would make another breakthrough, and his obsession would return stronger than ever.

* * *
In 1274, Karsten heard a strange noise, and paused in his writing for a moment to listen. With some confusion, he realized that it was his stomach. He looked to the window and was startled to see that it was several hours later than he imagined and well past sundown. He looked to the edge of his workbench. There was no teacup.

Karsten leaned heavily on his workbench as he rose from his chair, his joints popping and his bones creaking from sitting in the same position for so long. Stiffness in his legs made him stumble a bit as he made his way to the door.

“Janessa?” he called into the hallway. “Janessa?” he called as he descended the stairs to the main part of the house. “Janessa?”

He found her in the parlor, her eyes closed, a book on her lap with her thumb marking her place. The fire in the hearth had burned down until only glowing coals remained. “Janessa?” he said softly, his voice breaking. She did not stir. Hesitantly, he reached out and touched her hand. It was cold.

In 1274, Karsten buried his wife.

The night after the funeral, Karsten returned to his workshop, and he resumed his work. He didn’t know what else to do.

* * *
In 1277, Karsten unlocked the secret of immortality.

Karsten stared at the beaker of liquid for several hours, hand poised unmoving above his notes. The solution was the exact color described in the Codex. It exuded a faint aroma of mint and pine, just as described in the Codex. He supposed that the proper thing to do would be to test it on something, but that seemed ridiculous – this was clearly the formula Volisarium had discovered so long ago. There could be no doubt. He had but to drink the contents of the flask before him, and he would live forever.

Karsten looked down at his hands. He could see the shape of his bones pressing against his thin, papery skin. Both hands were covered with the shiny relics of old burns. His knuckles ached when he flexed his fingers. Truly, they were the hands of an old alchemist.

He thought about spending all of eternity with hands like that.

He thought about Janessa. He thought about spending all of eternity without her.

He looked at the Elixir and realized that it had nothing to offer him - certainly nothing that could outweigh what it had taken from him. The peddler had gotten the better end of the deal after all.

Karsten poured some charcoal into the Elixir of Everlasting Life and watched it change from a brilliant gold to a muddy gray. Then he tipped the whole flask onto the floor.

The codex he placed in the fire. The smoke from the ancient paper burning was acrid and foul, but it was not the smoke that brought tears to Karsten's eyes.

Karsten never did learn to make his own tea.