Ethan Wright and the Alchemist's Order, (Book 2) (26 page)

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Authors: Kimbro West

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BOOK: Ethan Wright and the Alchemist's Order, (Book 2)
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“Seafarer?!” exclaimed Ciprian with disgust. “Explain yourself, before I have you executed!”

Seafarer did not respond and continued digging in the drawer, looking for a particular tool to address the device on the desk. He held up a sharpened tool to the light. Seeing the instrument, Ciprian abruptly changed his attitude.

“Wait a moment,” groveled Ciprian. “This couldn’t be about my comments from earlier — I meant only to support—”

“No comment from you could draw a reaction, not from me anyhow,” replied Seafarer with a grim smile.

“Then, where … where am I?”

Seafarer, having found the tool he was looking for, strapped a magnifying glass to his head and examined the instrument closely. He pulled out a small piece of cloth and polished the end of the tool. He tipped his chin down to Ciprian to acknowledge the question. “You’re in my web,” he answered cryptically.

“What? Where?” demanded Ciprian.

“You’re still in Gilfangir,” replied Seafarer, “but more accurately, this room is where I am left with my … devices.”

“How did I get here?”

Seafarer selected a small pliers from the drawer and carefully bent the end of the tool he had been cleaning. “I gave you an elixir that puts you to sleep and gives you a mild paralysis upon awaking. Afraid you slept longer than I expected and the paralysis is starting to wear.”

The Mitan gulped as sweat rolled from his filthy brow. “What … are you going to do to me?”

The alchemist set the tools down and gave Ciprian his fullest attention. “I would say that I take no pleasure in what I am about to do to you, but that would be a lie,” said Seafarer simply. “I believe in the truth — it is much more fascinating to me than fiction. It is
when
you choose to reveal those tasty little axioms that I find, well … quite entertaining,” he added with an ominous smile.

Ciprian’s face contorted with anger. “When Xivon hears of this, you’ll be a dead man! YOU HEAR ME, ALCHEMIST?”

Seafarer turned and picked up the device with exposed gears. He took up the bent tool and delicately made adjustments inside the device, ignoring Ciprian’s outburst.

“YOU HEAR ME?!”

The alchemist continued his attention to the device. “Many Mitans that have been strapped to my table get quite upset over the ordeal. They seem to focus on the feeling of helplessness subjected by a mere human rather than the predicament itself — quite a mystery to me. Pride, maybe?” Seafarer sniffed as he focused on his task. “You should, however, let me know if your experience is still satisfactory, as in your case, it was not me who put you in this particular predicament. So I doubt my life is in danger at the hands of Xivon … at least, not any time soon. After all, he is the one that ordered me to do … what I am about to do.”

Gaping at Seafarer in disbelief, Ciprian pulled at his restraints again. “No … it can’t be — he wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t he?” asked Seafarer, glancing at the Mitan.

“You do know that Xivon is planning on killing
all
humans, don’t you? He won’t stop with Ethan — he plans on wiping out all of mankind!” exclaimed Ciprian.

“I know….”

“You know? Why, then? Why help him? He’s going to kill all of your people!” argued Ciprian desperately.

The alchemist made a few more adjustments before testing the device by lifting a small lever on the side and pulling the trigger. He heard a small
CLICK
as he checked the gears inside. “If I were in your position, I may be under the distinct impression that the alchemist before me originates from the Regal Seas. You may have come to this conclusion by noting that many call me Seafarer … and that only humans can control alchemy … thusly, you can appeal to my human side, and that Regal Seas alchemists are quite humane in nature.”

Ciprian smiled in desperate agreement. “Yes … I have nothing against Regal Seas alchemy … or alchemists, for that matter.”

“Oh, you do flatter me,” replied Seafarer, smiling, “and it’s true, I studied as a Regal Seas alchemist for several years. And the assumptions made would be almost accurate, except for one bit,” added Seafarer as he fine-tuned the device. “If you would allow me an assumption? I believe my origins are much different than any human you’ve ever met.”

Ciprian, who had been mostly insincere in his bantering attempts to gain his freedom, was now starting to take a paramount interest in Seafarer’s answers. “
Where
… are you from?”

“Quite nice of you to ask,” replied the alchemist. “Whether lucky or unlucky, I had the unfortunate happenstance of growing up in the care of a quite rare and mysterious group of people. The uneasy vernacular of a non-existent sect whispering in your ear as you grow up is liable to leave a lasting impression.”

A cold dread washed over Ciprian. “You mean…?”

“Oh, yes. The Bloodwhip alchemists are also very capable of the unspeakable persuasion — much better to be on
this
side of the needle, considering your position,” answered Seafarer, attaching an unnervingly large needle to the end of the device, “…wouldn’t you agree?”

The Mitan’s face turned pale as he refused to look at the sinister device in Seafarer’s hands. He turned from his captor and laughed maniacally into the darkness. “No … no, no, no … no … NO! This isn’t real!” he screamed. As sweat rolled off Ciprian’s battered face, he glanced at the device and then back to Seafarer. He once again strained and struggled to free himself from his unyielding bonds, to no avail. “WAIT! Just … stop … stop whatever you’re doing … we can come to an agreement … we can talk about this, please!” he begged.

The scar-faced alchemist picked up the glass vial with his empty hand and pressed it into a fitted chamber in the bottom of the device. He turned it gently until it
clicked
into place. He closed the compartment on the side that had exposed the gears and gave himself a satisfied smile in approval of his own work. “My dear Mitan, we’ve been talking about this very subject — for your benefit, I might add. And we can continue this little talk with all the time we have left together, but nothing will stop my progress — deadlines and all … you understand.”

“What! No!” exclaimed Ciprian. “Are … you … are you going to
kill
me?”

Seafarer took a firm grip on the device with one hand and seized the side of the begrimed Mitan’s face, forcing him still. He brought the needle close as the Mitan’s blue marking glowed brightly in the dimly lit chamber. “It is a lost art. Practiced and handed down through training in the Bloodwhip sect. But I grew tired of their constant political motivations and decided to kill, well, all of them. Now only I remain — the last of my kind — no one left to pass the practice to — just how I prefer.” The Bloodwhip thought for a moment as he leaned over and stared into Ciprian’s teary eyes. “I guess … there is one other that studies this art, after all.”

In a desperate effort to buy time, Ciprian kept the conversation going. “And who …
who
is that?” he stuttered.

Seafarer was delighted to oblige the question. “The alchemist who is responsible for striking the deal in trading Wegnel’s life for Loka Tattur — the leader of the Alchemist’s Order, of course — none other than Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa.”

“Heinrich?” Ciprian struggled to turn his head back to meet Seafarer’s eyes, until the alchemist finally relented. Ciprian’s eyes widened as the needle drew closer to his face. “So … what is it? What are you doing to me?!” asked the Aegis desperately as tears fell from his eyes and spittle flew from his lips.

“Extracting prufsian blue … of course,” answered Seafarer callously.

Realizing what the Bloodwhip alchemist was saying, Ciprian went mad with fear. “NO! NOOOOO!” screamed the Aegis in a panic, his voice echoing through the dark chamber, down the hallways, and out over the city of Gilfangir.

Seafarer mercilessly drove Ciprian’s head back into position and jammed the needle into the blue mark of the Mitan. He pulled the trigger and several
clicks
were heard, following by a suckling noise. The glass vial started bubbling with a glowing blue liquid as the mark on Ciprian’s face slowly dimmed. The Mitan’s eyes bulged and then drifted shut. His skin turned white, and then grey as it dried and cracked — all but turning to ash. His facial expression still showed his shock, frozen in that moment of time.

Air vented out from the side of the contraption, letting the alchemist know his work was complete. He pulled the needle from the motionless Aegis. The glass vial glowed with a dim blue light as he hastily removed it from the device, pulled a cork from the drawer and contained his reward.

“Yes … I am going to kill you, Mitan. Pity … I should have liked mentioning that to you earlier … when you had asked. Looks like Xivon found a use for you after all.” Seafarer placed the vial into his pocket, pulled the hood back over his scarred head and placed his hand on the glass ball, absorbing the swirling blood back into his palm. The light dimmed and the Bloodwhip alchemist was enshrouded in darkness.

End book 2

Note from the Author

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading Ethan Wright and the Alchemist's Order. I've had a great time writing my novels and hope you've had a great time reading them. I will always put forth my best efforts to bring you the best content imaginable.

Thanks!

Kimbro West

You can learn more about the Author and the Ethan Wright Series by visiting
www.kimbrowest.com

Thanks for reading!

Table of Contents

Chapter 1Hypothetically Speaking

Chapter 2The Death of an Alchemist

Chapter 3The Two Sides of Odin

Chapter 4Mortuus Manus

Chapter 5Xivon’s Plan

Chapter 6The Sad Lady

Chapter 7A Run-in with Torture

Chapter 8Well, I Declare

Chapter 9The Fisherboy

Chapter 10The Summer Sword

Chapter 11Odin the Mighty

Chapter 12A New Wegnel

Chapter 13The Rivalry

Chapter 14A Summer Vow

Chapter 15Prufsian Blue

Chapter 16The Lady of the Mitan

Chapter 17The Djinn

Chapter 18The Gold Medallion

Chapter 19The Lake Hunter

Chapter 20To the Airship

Chapter 21Thomas Wright

Chapter 22The Unexpected Funeral

Chapter 23The Bloodwhip

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