Alchemy 1

Kizzi rode to her death. She had given them no other choice, for there was no chance she

would walk to her inevitable demise. She was not a common criminal. She was a genius. A

genius who had, against her better judgement, gotten herself condemned to a swift execution.

It was not as though she had done anything wrong. Quite the opposite. She had

succeeded. She had set out to create a weapon, and she had. Oh, she had.

The great masses of auburn leaves that comprised the canopy shadowed the vicinity, but

tendrils of sunlight still shimmered through, illuminating the underbrush in a golden glow. It

appeared as though the leaves were ablaze, but the inferno before her was harmless. Nonetheless,

it was beautiful. Giggling to herself as the cool autumn breeze whipped through her russet

ringlets, Kizzi watched the copper trees disappear behind her as the company of soldiers

advanced down the well-trodden road.

They did not wear armor, nor did they carry heavy weaponry. They did not march in

straight, stiff lines with flags to announce their allegiance or badges to announce their rank. No,

they were few and simple. To an observer, her escorts would not appear to be guardsmen, but,

then again, that had been the point.

King Quig needed her removed, for he could not allow someone as brilliant as her to

have power over him. As such, he had done the only thing a reticent, unscrupulous conniver

could do. He thanked her publicly for her work and gifted her a colossal estate in the countryside

where she could continue her alchemy under the protection of his loyal sycophants.

Unbeknownst to him, she knew his plot. King Quig would never get his weapon. She had made

sure of that.
 Alchemy 2

Clutching her horse’s reins with gloved hands, Kizzi sighed happily, imagining the look

on the sovereign’s face when he realized she had sabotaged her own innovation. He would

utterly lose it! How she wished she would be there to see her revenge in action. It would be

magnificent beyond comprehension. Alas, she would be unable to fully cherish her revenge

because they were planning to kill her. It was quite rude of them. Granted, she had known the

ruler’s end goal since the beginning but had been more curious to see how it would play out than

worried about the consequences. Besides, no matter what happened, she would still have

memories of the good times – the times when royals paid her to blow things up.

Kizzi closed her eyes, envisioning the scarlet conflagration that had inevitably almost

engulfed the eastern wing of the palace. The beautiful flames would have spread rapidly,

consuming the pointless draperies and artwork some fool had thought would look good next to

her workspace. Oh, the destruction! She could even smell the smoke and see the glowing embers

as they danced through the air, if she concentrated hard enough. Unfortunately, her reverie was

abruptly cut short as her stomach growled ravenously, reminding her that she had not eaten in

over an hour. She was starving.

“What do we have to eat?” She inquired, turning to face Longnose.

The man rolled his eyes, walking beside her stallion with a rigid posture that could easily

identify him as a soldier. No amount of grime or clothing could mask that fact. “You won’t be

needing food where you’re going,” he told her. “Your mansion will be stocked full of supplies.

When we get there, you can eat.”

“The mansion…” Kizzi murmured, raising an eyebrow. She had temporarily forgotten

that he was taking her to her death. “…right.”

 Alchemy 3

She continued in silence, powerless to overcome her boredom. It was better than the

alternative.

When King Quig had first sent his men, she had considered fighting back. She had had

access to a few resources and an intellect to rival all the soldiers under the ruler’s command, but

she had been unable to convince herself to follow through with the visceral rebellion. It would

have all been for naught anyway. She knew her limits. She was an alchemist, not a warrior. She

experimented with powders and concoctions that made things burst into flame, crumble to dust,

change color, or dissolve. She did not stab or impale people. That was a task for inane

barbarians.

“Halt!” A voice ordered, emanating from within the dense surrounding woods. “We’ve

got you surrounded!”

Longnose held up a hand, and the party stopped. “We mean you no trouble,” He lied,

scanning the trees and slowly reaching for the dagger at his side. Kizzi sniffed, pointedly not

looking at him. Barbarian. “We’re simple travelers on route to the countryside. Show yourself

and perhaps we can discuss the conditions of our safe passage.”

There was a brief pause before a different, softer reply came. “Just give us the alchemist,

and we’ll let you live.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Longnose began, unsheathing his dagger and

motioning for the remaining four guards to spread out. “There’s no –”

“Do you have food?” Kizzi interrupted, picking out an obscured figure watching from

atop a branch only paces away. He had drawn an arrow and was aiming the projectile right at
 Alchemy 4

her. She quickly noted a dozen others hiding in the trees and spotted at least eight on the ground.

The execution cavalcade was encircled and outnumbered. She was not about to be shot by a

human monkey! It was not her day to die.

“What?” The stranger and Longnose exclaimed simultaneously.

Kizzi sighed, raising her voice and buying time as she evaluated her options, head

swiveling as she tried to absorb all the minutiae at once. “Do. You. Have. Food?”

“Um…yes?”

“Wonderful!” The alchemist exclaimed, stomach growling as she slid off her mare. She

no longer needed the height advantage. She knew the layout.

Further down the road, the flora encroached upon their chosen path, which was blocked

by a felled oak and guarded by a quaternion of armed woodsmen. There was no way around

except through the unnavigable warren of trees. Behind them, King Quig’s castle loomed

mockingly, taunting her with its glimmering marble structure behind a fortified wall. It would

provide no protection. As for the assailants, there were too many to fight, so combat was out of

the question. Frankly, there was nowhere to run either. 

Her death certainly had an inauspicious beginning.

Longnose barred her path, grabbing her wrist with one hand and gripping his dagger in

the other when she tried to swerve around him. “What are you doing?” He hissed.
 Alchemy 5

“I’m going with them,” Kizzi informed him. “Now, please get out of my way.” When he

did not release her or step back, she calmly turned her attention to the hooligans in the woodland.

“Would someone do me a favor and shoot him?”

Surprisingly, they complied.

An arrow whistled through the air and pierced Longnose’s shoulder, the man stumbling

back. He gave her an irate scowl as he touched the sticky red liquid pouring from his wound,

growling as he tore the shaft from his flesh. So gross!

Channeling all her willpower to resist the urge to puke, Kizzi strode past him, picking out

the responsible archer in the labyrinth of flora and nodding appreciatively. Her voice caught in

her throat, but she managed to gurgle an unsteady “thank you” before she was engulfed in the

dark shadows of the forest.

Taking a deep breath, Kizzi forced herself not to look back as a hailstorm of arrows

ensued. Fingers dug painfully in her ears, she paid the massacre no heed, blocking out the shouts

and screams as she fled the scene. She knew that, if she listened, she would never find refuge

from the inescapable guilt – the knowledge that the deaths were all her fault.

Promising herself that there was nothing she could have done, the alchemist turned her

back on the soldiers. As she ran, Kizzi realized that she was no longer hungry. In fact, the

alchemist was quite sure she was going to be sick. Nonetheless, she stood tall, bit her lip, and

focused on taking one more step forward. Always one more step…

She had bought another few hours to live, but at what cost?
 Alchemy 6

***

Kizzi awoke with a start, eyes flashing open as she jumped to her feet. She moved too

quickly, and a wave of dizziness swept over her. Her vision blurred momentarily, becoming a

mass of white and black specks. Stumbling, the alchemist held her head and attempted, mostly

unsuccessfully, to steady herself. She was going to be sick.

Memories of the past few hours resurfaced as Kizzi regained her composure. She vaguely

remembered being ushered into a carriage by her escorts’ assailants and traveling for an

exhaustingly lengthy amount of time. Hours passed and a full moon eventually replaced the

blazing sun. She had been fatigued beyond comprehension, for she had barely slept more than

three hours a day when working on the weapon. On top of that, she had begun a ride to her death,

her escort of executioners had been murdered, and then she had been captured by a bunch of

ruffians. She was annoyed, thirsty, tired, and still freakishly hungry.

Kizzi sighed, opening her eyes before almost falling back on the couch.

She was in a bare-walled workshop meticulously aligned with a dozen tables, which were

arranged with a miscellany of concoctions, elements, beakers, and tools. She recognized the

ingredients and amalgamations immediately. They were everything she had demanded to create

King Quig’s weapon and more. For a moment, she just stared. Once, she would have reveled in

the opportunity to experiment with such materials and commenced her oeuvre immediately.

Now, she could scarcely hold back a scream. It was happening again.

“No,” she whispered, desperately searching for a way out. There had to be a way out!

The alchemist ran to the only door, tugging at the handle. It did not move. Locked! “No. No.
 Alchemy 7

NO!” Kizzi exclaimed, pounding on the metal frame. “Not again!” She spun around, black dress

flowing behind her as she noted the stone walls’ invulnerability to physical or chemical attack.

That left one option.

Light and fresh air flooded the room through a small window that would have been a

tight fit even without the cinque of metal bars. Kizzi rushed over to it, gazing out.

From hundreds of paces above the ground, she watched swarms of soldiers patrol the

bulwarks and bartizans of the heavily fortified stronghold. Past numerous levels of barricades

and across gargantuan stretches of forest, she could barely make out King Quig’s rival palace

glinting mockingly at her. It had aroused her inquisitiveness at the expense of her life and

ecstasy. She would not allow anything to do so again.

Kizzi sprinted over to the closest table, examining the contents. As she desperately

searched for a means of escape, the alchemist gritted her teeth and Dichotomized. Though the

room around her did not change, it felt as though it had. Knowledge swarmed her brain,

thousands of tidbits of information vying for her attention. The name and purpose of each

element and compound flashed in her mind, allowing her to rapidly distinguish between almost

identical formulas. It was too much to comprehend for long – the influx of information was

mentally arduous to retain – so Kizzi concentrated on acids.

She found a bottle of clear hydrochloric acid on the table to her left, but it would not be

powerful enough. It worked on weaker, less active metals. She needed something stronger,

Dichotomizing deeper as she extricated substances capable of dissolving steal from the

metaphorical residuum. The chemical structures of straight-chain, saturated carboxylic acids

flickered in her mind before they were dismissed. Kizzi closed her eyes and utilized all her
 Alchemy 8

willpower to find nitric acid. The names and properties faded instantaneously the moment she

found what she was looking for.

The vastly corrosive, colorless compound was located in a vial opposite the door. Kizzi

snaked through the labyrinth of tables, grabbing the ampoule and inspecting it. The translucent

hue meant the decomposition had not yet started, and it had already been diluted. Perfect.

Unfortunately, as her Dichotomizing powers slipped from her grasp, Kizzi experienced

the familiar dizziness and nausea that accompanied the use of her abilities. She took a moment to

rest before making her way to the door. Nitric acid would take some time to eat its way through

the steel, but it should work. If not, she could always combine the potassium nitrate, sulfur, and

charcoal she had pinpointed. Coalesced, they would create a resplendent explosion, but it would

be exponentially more dangerous and raucous. Oh, the joys of volatile powder.

Trying to suppress her curiosity as to what she could create with the materials before her,

Kizzi reached the entrance in time for it to swing open. She barely avoided being smashed with

the metal door, jumping to the side. Annoyed, the alchemist spun around, placed her hands on

her hips, and prepared to give the intruder a harangue, all the while trying to appear at ease while

pressing a strong acid against her body.

“Do you have any–” Her question was cut off as she recognized the newcomer. King

Quig’s son. Oceaneyes. No. That was what she had called him before he tricked her into creating

a weapon. She had given him a new name after that…delightful experience.

“Kizzi,” he murmured, brushing his golden hair from his face and giving her one of his

devious smiles, “I’ve missed you.”

 Alchemy 9

“Egotisticaltraitorousmindlessfool, I have not missed you.” she replied, contemplating

throwing the nitric acid at him. It would have been satisfying to wipe the grin off his face, enact

her vengeance, and compel him to meet his comeuppance, but she was unsure of her accuracy

when it came to hurling acidic concoctions. She would probably miss, or the vial would not

break upon impact. Something was bound to go wrong. Things always did around him. Sniffing

disdainfully, Kizzi placed the nitric acid on the nearest surface, which happened to be a wooden

box filled with iron. Not the best idea, but what good did rational thought ever do?

The prince sighed, motioning for the two guards behind him to stay put as he entered the

room and closed the door behind him. “I liked Oceaneyes better.”

“I don’t care. Why are you even here?”

“To keep my promise. I said no harm would come to you if you helped me. I’ve kept my

promise, haven’t I?”

Kizzi could not tell whether or not he actually believed his chicaneries, but she knew

better than to do so. He had caused her only pain. “I want to leave right now,” she demanded.

Egotisticaltraitorousmindlessfool shook his head. “You know I can’t let you. I…

we...need your help –”

“Creating a weapon to overthrow your father,” she finished, piecing the details together.

She should have seen it sooner. “I know why I’m here.”

“So, you’ll do it? Just like that.”

 Alchemy 10

The alchemist sniffed, “Do I have a choice?” When he did not answer, Kizzi examined

the materials she had to work with, pointedly not looking at the machiavellian prince. “You

realize that I’ll need time.”

“You have one day.”

“One day!” She exclaimed, attempting to appear flabbergasted. “That’s impossible!”

Truthfully, she could have completed the amalgamation in under twelve hours, but he did not

need to know that. Her only advantage was time. That was how she had lasted so long before.

Ocean...Egotisticaltraitorousmindlessfool moved closer to her, dropping his voice to a

patronizing whisper. “You can get it done. It took you weeks to replicate the formula the first

time because King Quig had to find and gather all the necessary components. I’ve already done

that. All the materials are here.”

Kizzi scrunched her nose, peering around the patrician as she took stock of the tools and

elements she had to work with. Everything she needed and more was at her disposal. She could

do almost anything, and no one would know until it was too late. That was a lesson King Quig

would learn, if she had not forced him to already. Since she was the only one who knew how to

create the weapon, she could ask for whatever she wanted whether she needed it or not. That was

how she had bought time before. That was how she had gotten revenge. Piece by piece, she had

crafted the concoction and, piece by piece, she had created a trap. King Quig would never have

his unstoppable weapon. She had made sure of that. His perfidious son would not triumph either.

“What about the Lyridium?” She inquired. “It’s irreplaceable and King Quig gave me the

last of it.”
 Alchemy 11

“Actually, I have the last of it,” Egotisticaltraitorousmindlessfool promised smugly.

“Well?” Kizzi asked, holding out her hand and raising her eyebrows. “Where is it?”

The prince chuckled. “You’ll get it when you’re almost finished. I don’t want you to

waste the last smidgen of Lyridium just to spite me.”

Kizzi nodded, rolling the sleeves of her gown past her elbows and searching for the first

ingredient: potassium nitrate. “So, you don’t trust me. Fair enough. Are you going to watch me

work the entire time, or…” She trailed off, hiding a smile, as Egotisticaltraitorousmindlessfool

stepped backwards, the man flinching out of instinct. She had expertly crafted his response, for

she would not allow him, nor anyone, to oversee her artistry. She, with the assistance of a few

well-aimed, flying magnetic objects, a dozen or so raging fires, and about thirty-seven life-

threatening explosions, had taught everyone remotely interested in her alchemy to stay away

until she was ready to unveil her masterpiece.

“I’ll wait,” The prince told her, averting his eyes and opening the door. “Just remember.

You have twenty-four hours. I’ll be back with the Lyridium in twenty-three.” He paused, turning

to face her. “Please don’t try anything drastic. Okay, Kizzi? You can go as soon as you’re done.

Just accept that there’s no way out and work quickly. Then, this can all be over.” 

Kizzi rolled her eyes. Yah right.

He left her alone with one last transient glance, the clicking of a lock the only thing

accompanying his departure. He would return in twenty-three hours. That meant she had twenty-

two to excogitate a means of escape, fashion a riveting explosion, and procure something to eat.
 Alchemy 12

***

She had done it. After three hours of tremendous, operose labor, she had triumphed. With

delicate alchemical manipulation, Kizzi had combined highly reactive sodium with volatile

chloride to create NaCl, which she had mixed with monoglycerides, diglycerides, sugar,

molasses, hydrogenated vegetable oils, and roasted peanuts to create her greatest amalgam yet:

peanut butter.

Pleased with her newest creation and no longer suffering from starvation, Kizzi cleared

off the table closest to the window and began to work, singing softly to herself as she did.

“When potassium and water meet, the impact sends magenta drops into the air. A toxic

white inferno can be constructed with molten salt and a gummy bear.”

The alchemist set aside the potassium nitrate, sulfur, and charcoal she had noticed,

beginning to combine the elements that would eventually become what she had been imprisoned

for twice: an undefeatable coating meant to dissolve all objects upon impact. The applications

were endless, yet nonexistent. Because the formula was strong enough to pierce armor

instantaneously, weapons smeared with the glaze would be unstoppable. In theory. The question

of how to apply the amalgamation if it melted everything it touched arose, at least in Kizzi’s

mind. No one else had even mentioned the problem to her, so she did not bring it up. The lot of

them were a bunch of power-hungry fools. On the flipside, she was usually just a hungry fool.

 Kizzi sighed, continuing to chant the song she had written for her first lover. He had not

appreciated the literary beauty as she had. It was his loss. If he were ever put in her situation, he
 Alchemy 13

would be completely flummoxed. “Solid aluminum and liquid gallium merge into a bendable

metal. Potassium chlorate and sucrose sugar should never be mixed within a kettle.”

The lyrics reverberated off the walls of the enclosed space, echoing back to her. As her

fingers and mind worked, so did her mouth. “Blazes containing arsenic bode an early demise, the

situation dire. Fluorine combined with anything is bound to kill, detonate, or cause a raging fire.”

The alchemist grinned, striding over to the window and peering out. It was quite a drop,

but manageable. She had enough rope to make it most of the way down, for, while working for

King Quig, she had requested armaments to test the potency of her concoction and been rudely

denied such instruments. It had all been according to her plan, however, for she had absolutely

no talent when it came to wielding a weapon. She could always use rope though. The same logic

had been applied to almost all the items and elements she had requested. She might not have

fought back in open rebellion like many fools who would soon be dead, but she had her ways of

combating megalomaniac tyrants.

In all, she had thirty-eight methods of escape, thirty-three of which included an explosion

of some variety. If it had not been for Egotisticaltraiterousmindlessfool, she might never have

discovered her latest escape plan, for he believed she would do whatever it took to survive, as

she had done in the past. Little did he realize just how many detonations one person could

endure. She had already survived ninety-two. What was one more?

“Astatine initiates a column of superheated gas and radiation. If you breathe in harmful,

technetium dust you’ll be dead for a lengthy duration.”

 Alchemy 14

Kizzi paused. The next part of the ballad was about her love lasting as long as the half-

life of the Bismuth-209 isotope, but it didn’t seem applicable in her current circumstances. She

would have to change that eventually, but it could wait, for she only had twenty hours left, and

there was still much to accomplish.

Giggling to herself, the alchemist Dichotomized, the influx of information both pleasing

and sickening. She could see the possibilities before her. Now she only needed to decide which

outcome resulted in crushing disappointment for Egotisticaltraiterousmindlessfool and a grand,

ostentatious explosion.

***

 Perspective, Kizzi mused, was a very strange thing. Her craft would not exist without it,

for, though she understood how elements and compounds fused and coalesced, a majority of

people did not. To them, it was enigmatic sorcery. She amalgamated powders and liquids with a

knowledge of their chemical compositions and uses, but onlookers did not understand the science

behind her art. They never would, so her abilities would continue to be viewed as magical by the

less erudite forevermore. Their ignorance was what made her work alchemy. It was because of

them that she was an alchemist instead of a chemist, for where chemistry was a science based on

observation and experimentation, alchemy was a practice rooted in fallacy and canard. The

subsidiary, benighted souls conceived the illusion of who she was and what she could do.  As

such, she could safely assume that it was their fault she was in her current situation.

Hanging halfway out the window that happened to be hundreds of paces above the

ground, Kizzi attempted, quite unsuccessfully, to avoid the serrated remnants of the metal bars

beneath her as she surveyed her prison. Though the nitric acid had eaten through the steel staves
 Alchemy 15

relatively quickly, she had been in too much of a hurry to completely disintegrate the poles. She

vastly regretted not completing the job as the spiky shards dug into her legs, scraping her skin

and drawing blood. Fingers gripping the handle she had attached to the stone with a quick-drying

adhesive, Kizzi readjusted, careful not to allow her grip to slacken. Were she to fall backwards,

she would surely die. It would be an awful waste, taking into account all the energy and time she

had spent refashioning her weapon. No matter, it was almost complete. There was just one more

thing she needed.

“What are you doing?”

Caught off guard, Kizzi jumped, or the equivalent of jumping when one was dangling

midway between their workspace and certain death. Cursing softly, the alchemist calmed her

breathing, ducked her head, and forced a smile as she slipped back in the room.

The speaker was, thankfully, not Egotisticaltraiterousmindlessfool. Clean shaven and at

least a few years older than her, the guard was quite handsome. He had unscarred, tan skin

ornamented with leather armor, a dark mass of curls flopping atop his head as he opened the door

wider and took a step back. From his uniform, she guessed that he was a soldier of moderate

ranking. No one of too much importance or, if she was lucky, an education.

“Hello,” she said innocently. “Do you need something?”

“You were trying to escape,” He murmured, clutching a spear in gloved hands. “I have to

tell –”

“Stop right there,” Kizzi interrupted, placing her hands on her hips and summoning her

most offended voice. She was quite good at appearing affronted, if she said so herself. Now, she
 Alchemy 16

just had to be convincing enough to persuade the interrupting sentry. “I was not trying to

escape,” she told him, “and I am insulted you would accuse me of such a thing. Do you really

believe, with everything I can do, that I would degrade myself so much as to jump out a

window? I can raze entire civilizations, command the elements, and, in seconds, kill more men

than you ever have.” Furrowing her brow and concentrating on maintaining her authoritative

aura, Kizzi had to suppress giggles as the man’s face became contorted with doubt.

“Then what were you doing?” He asked, voice uncertain but still suspicious. She would

convince him of her blamelessness no matter how large of a lie it was. “Why else would you go

out the window?”

Kizzi shoved the closest table out of the way, shaking the vials resting upon it. None

broke, but a few tipped over and a pair of beakers rolled off and shattered upon impact with the

ground. Stepping over the broken glass and hiding the flask she had grabbed, she glared

menacingly at him. “You dare accuse me of cowardice and stupidity?” Kizzi exclaimed,

conjuring a lie as she played for time. “I have never been so slighted in my entire life!” Inhaling

slowly, she continued, lowering her voice and raising the powder she had snatched off the table.

“If you must know, however, I was rehytogrifying my silica.”

“Rehytogrifying?”

“Yes,” Kizzi said, pretending to be annoyed at having to repeat herself, “I was

rehytogrifying the silica in this ampoule. Understand?” The guard shook his head, the man

appearing utterly perplexed. She would have been as well if a fanatical magician began spouting

spurious lies and vastly overcomplicating the properties of sand. “Rehytogrifying is the process

of recharging elements,” Kizzi lied. She had no idea where the word had come from, but she had
 Alchemy 17

no time to think of a better fabrication, so rehytogrifying it was. “In this case, I needed to restore

my silica to its premier state. Do you know how I planned to do this?”

The sentry cleared his throat, lowering his spear. “By holding it out the window?”

Kizzi almost laughed. Scientifically, his theory made absolutely no sense, but at least he

was not threatening to tell Egotisticaltraiterousmindlessfool that she had been trying to escape.

She was making progress.

“Exactly!” she applauded. “I needed to expose the silica to fresh air, and I was told that I

could not leave this room so…” She trailed off, waiting for him to connect the dots she had

nicely arranged for him. He did not disappoint.

“So, you had to remove the bars on the window and hold the silca where it could be

rehitofied.”

Ignoring his completely inaccurate pronunciation of the word she had just made up and

resisting the urge to correct him, Kizzi clapped gently, placing the bottle of sand back where it

belonged. “Absolutely wonderful,” she declared. “Now, is there a reason you came in here?”

Looking immensely pleased with himself, the soldier nodded. “Oh, yes. Prince Jonam

asked me to remind you that he will return in five hours with the Lerdium…”

“Lyridium,” Kizzi corrected under her breath. The man’s pronunciation was absolutely

atrocious!

“His majesty said that he expects the weapon to be ready by then.”

 Alchemy 18

“It will be,” the alchemist promised, gesturing to her materials. “Trust me, it will be

astounding, but do you mind…”

The guard caught on, bobbing his head. “Of course. I’m sorry. Please, continue.” He left

with an embarrassed bow, shutting the door behind him. The lock clicked moments later, but

Kizzi did not care. She was too busy laughing.

***

Her arsenal was complete.

Kizzi stepped back, admiring her work and dusting her filthy hands on her dress, which

was already stained in numerous places and slightly singed from a fire that had raged, albeit

briefly, out of her control. She paid the marks no heed, for they were dismissible and obsolete

compared to the masterpieces she had forged.

Arranged side by side and organized according to least likely to ignite upon contact with

the compounds next to them, her chemical grenades waited patiently for the moment to strike.

When broken, some would explode, others would implode, and still others would emit poisonous

gasses, billowing smoke, or horrendous scents. No matter their color, state, or composition, each

had their place. Each had their purpose.

Crouching down, Kizzi placed a lid on both airtight crates, which she had erected from

one of the tables she had disassembled. Each container contained half of her inventions, ready to

be used at a moment’s notice. How she longed for the moment she would see them in action.
 Alchemy 19

Hefting the boxes onto the single remaining intact table, Kizzi pushed them apart in such

a way that the now spike-less window was in plain view, leaving enough room for her to climb

up beside them and draw them out the window after her. It was a tight fit for both her and the

packages, but, as she stood unsteadily upon the recently-solidified support she had attached a

pace below the window, Kizzi managed to slip the first crate through. Her fingers were squashed

against the sides of the frame and she almost fell backwards to her death, but it worked.

The wind buffeted her from behind, threatening to knock her off the narrow ledge and

send her hurtling to the cobblestone below. From her position facing her prison, Kizzi lifted the

first box and stuck it to the gelatinous mass of adhesive she had, seconds ago, applied to the

stone. She held it in place as the mixture dried, trying not to look down at the tiny soldiers and

hard, unforgiving ground. The makeshift, braided rope she had created from strips of her skirt

mixed with a bit of her bonding agent rubbed uncomfortably against her back, but it braced her

body, limiting her chances of falling. Limiting was not the same thing as preventing.

Kizzi risked a glance below her, mentally counting the remaining time until her glue

dried. The last thing she needed was for a container of stink, smoke, and fire bombs to drop a

few hundred paces downward before she wanted them to. They were not structurally or

chemically stable in a safe environment, but they would be cataclysmically more dangerous if,

for example, they were placed in wooden crates suspended upside down with tops that would fly

off with the slightest tug from a twine she had connected to one of the table legs. Kizzi bit her lip

as the twine shook slightly but carefully released the crate and repeated the procedure with the

second when nothing detonated.

 Alchemy 20

When she was done, the alchemist meticulously slipped back in the room, ignoring the

nauseating sight behind her. She stopped trembling only after she was safely on solid ground

once more, making sure to avoid the tripwire she had set up as she turned around and scanned

the room for any indication of anything that could expose her plan.

The couch and all but one of the tables were disintegrated and gathered in a pile of ash,

embers still gently falling to the ground. The wood had burned wonderfully, leaving behind

cinders – the last component for her weapon. Kizzi exhaled softly and inhaled deeply. Despite

the time constraint, she had done it again. She truly was an alchemy master.

Picking up the translucent vial of a dazzling, yet hazardous, cerulean liquid, Kizzi

admired her work. Even though it was the only thing, other than the sole remaining table, in the

empty, dreary room, it would have stood out in the middle of a palace treasury. She knew that for

certain because that was where her previous concoction of the same composition had ended up –

destroying the only tangible thing King Quig had ever loved.

Kizzi smiled, caressing the translucent flask. Her first batch of the blend had annihilated a

mundane trove but her second would eradicate more than just physical possessions. It would

obliterate Egotisticaltraitorousmindlessfool’s hopes for power. It would destroy his dream, just

as he had destroyed hers.

“My love will last as long as the half-life of the Bismuth-209 isotope,” Kizzi murmured,

changing the last line of her love song as the clanking of a key emanated from behind the door,

“but, my love, my heartbreaker, the true extent of my plots, you’ll never witness the scope.”
 Alchemy 21

The door swung open, Egotisticaltraitorousmindlessfool entering the room with a

miniature, engraved chest in his gloved hands. Right on time. He furrowed his brow in surprise

as he surveyed her barren prison, which was devoid of everything but her, a table, and an

exquisite mound of ash. “Did you have to demolish my tables?” He inquired after a moment of

awkward silence.

“I did,” Kizzi replied, holding out her empty hand. “The Lyridium?”

Egotisticaltraitorousmindlessfool opened the coffer and pulled out a rock folded in a

white cloth. He gently removed the element from the casing and hesitantly gave it to her. “No

tricks, right?”

Kizzi took the Lyridium and shook her head, lying just as he had once lied to her. “No

tricks, I promise.” Then, without further ado, she curled her fingers around the rare element and

proceeded to crush it. Dropping the dust into the vial, the alchemist swirled the contents of the

beaker as the powder dissolved. Egotisticaltraitorousmindlessfool watched, entranced, as she

worked, the pair of guards who had accompanied the prince peeking into the room as a weapon

was brought to life before their very eyes. Little did they know just how pointless the last step of

the procedure was. Little could they comprehend what she had done, though what she had done

amounted to nothing.

Lyridium was a very strange element because it had exactly one use: shifting liquids to a

neon pink. That was it. The element did not react with anything. It was not beneficial in any way.

It could not poison, harm, or kill. Nothing.

 Alchemy 22

Forty-two decades ago, a flaming stone had fallen from the sky, razing half the planet and

leaving the other half in shambles. Most of the survivors had avoided the site of impact, but one

had ventured closer and had discovered Lyridium. In that moment, the world had changed, and

the alchemists had been born.

With the ability to understand the world around them in a way never before dreamt of,

they explored the bounds of what humans could do and they suffered for it. People had been

afraid and, as they normally did when their way of life was jeopardized, exterminated the threat.

The alchemists who escaped had either gone into hiding or stubbornly refused to acknowledge

that they had powers of any kind. The supply of Lyridium was obliterated, and, powerless to do

anything else, the survivors rebuilt what they had lost. Slowly, before it even had time to

flourish, alchemy faded, and the world forgot it.

Kizzi smiled sadly as the last of the Lyridium disintegrated before her eyes. It was the

last of its kind just as she was.

“Is it done?” Egotisticaltraitorousmindlessfool asked excitedly.

The alchemist nodded but pulled the vial closer to her when he reached for it. “Once I

give this to you, I’m free to go?”

“Yes. We’ve arranged an escort to take you to a mansion in the countryside. You can

blow up whatever you want, and no one will stop you. For your own safety, I’ll be sending a few

guards with you. We don’t want there to be any problems on the way there.”

“I see,” Kizzi murmured. “And what about food? I’m starving.”

 Alchemy 23

The prince shrugged. “Your mansion will be stocked full of supplies. When you get

there, you can eat.”

Kizzi sniffed, but she had already guessed that he had been planning to kill her. After all

she had accomplished, however, it was just plain rude. “I suppose I should give you a

demonstration then,” She mused, her grip on the weapon tightening. “Just so you know it

works.”

Russet eyes flashing, the alchemist held up the vial and dropped it before the prince had

the chance to fully understand her words. He cried out, lunging forward, but he was too late. The

glass-like vial shattered at her feet, the cerise liquid sizzling upon impact with the floor.

“What have you done?” Egotisticaltraitorousmindlessfool muttered, jumping back as the

section of floor between them disintegrated.

“Watch,” Kizzi interrupted, guiltily pleased at the heartbreak in his expression. She

understood the feeling, but her revenge was not over yet. “Just watch.”

The prince did so, mouth dropping open as he beheld the true glory of her creation.

The concoction ate through the ground in a second, leaking downward and removing a

sizable section of the next room. At first, it trickled, the limited amount drizzling from where the

beaker had shattered. Subsequently, however, it began to grow. Utilizing the ceilings and

floorings of the prison as a fuel, her dilapidating potion multiplied. It no longer dripped. It

poured. Raining down, the drops became a waterfall of unstoppable destruction that sank lower

and lower, destroying everything in its path.

 Alchemy 24

“I would harvest that before it seeps into the ground,” Kizzi recommended, stepping

back. “It would be a shame to lose all of it.”

Eyes widening, the prince rushed from the room, shouting orders for buckets to be

brought and reinforcements to be gathered. Kizzi listened with a mischievous smile, turning her

back on the pandemonium she had caused. The fools. They could not contain her masterpiece. It

had taken her thirteen hours to craft a single, successful model, and it was currently fragmented

at her feet.

Ignoring the shouts from below, the alchemist strode over to the rickety table she had

spared from complete annihilation and untied the ropes she had secured to the wooden leg.

Smiling grimly, she let them slip from her fingers. The cables were torn from her grasp, releasing

her last gift to the world – the destruction of those who sought to kill it.

“You were wrong about me, Oceaneyes,” She whispered, taking a deep, unsteady breath

and mentally pleading forgiveness for what she was about to do. There was a deafening

explosion as her crates hit their target, unleashing destruction, but her mission was no longer to

survive where the rest of her people had failed. It was to make sure everyone else would, and,

unfortunately, that dream demanded a sacrifice.

Looking out the window, Kizzi smiled regretfully as the world around her erupted into a

brilliant conflagration of flames and death. Tears of happiness dripping down her chocolate

brown skin, the alchemist dropped to her knees.

No one would ever use her weapon to harm a single soul again. Not King Quig. Not

Egotisticaltraitorousmindlessfool. Not even her.

 Alchemy 25

Kizzi felt heat whirling around her. She could smell the billowing smoke. She could hear

the crackling of the flames. The end drew nearer, but she would not perish on her knees. Forcing

herself to her feet, the alchemist stood tall, whispering the last words her father had told her

before he was imprisoned, interrogated, and subsequently murdered because an egotistical tyrant

wanted the secrets of an unstoppable weapon. “Rise from the ashes, heal you must try, for I am

an alchemist and for you, I die.”

Taking a deep breath, Kizzi forced her eyes to stay wide open, admiring the beauty and

destructive power of what she had created - an unstoppable, dilapidating formula combined with

dozens of fulminations. There was no way her enemies could survive, but that was not what

made her smile. She stood grinning and giggling to herself in the disintegrating prison amid ear-

splitting eruptions because Egotisticaltraitorousmindlessfool had been wrong after all. She could

escape.

The cries quieted. The world blurred. The pain numbed.

Darkness overcame her, but, even as it did, a light dawned on a world without alchemy.