The grease dropped off the roasted mink meat, stinking worse than Liron had imagined. Besides the horrid taste, chewing it made the muscles in his jaw sore. As he had left behind all the contents of his stomach and hadn't eaten at all, Liron wolfed down the meat. Some grease dripped from his cheeks onto his bare chest.
Angin had transformed his gloves into a heater, their wet clothes drying above it. Without his robe, the Alchemist froze as much as Liron, both sitting in their underwear around his machine, trembling. His once beautiful hair was an utter mess, dirty all over. He had abandoned all grace, devouring his portion of the mink meat with the same savagery as Liron.
They had sought refuge in a smaller cave near the Pader. The mink had managed to climb out of the river before perishing. Angin had repaid its service by tearing the needles out, turning them into knives, and cutting out fur and flesh. They couldn't stay close to the carcass, as it would attract predators.
The fur hung next to their clothing, drying above the heater. Angin had explained that he would try to stitch a new backpack, as he had abandoned his old one with their improvised bike. With that, Angin had lost almost all his gear. Nothing but the rod he had hoisted at his hip. He kept it close should a beast stumble over them.
Despite being a scholar, Angin had a muscular build, appearing like many depictions of a young Casar, carved out of marble without any flaw. After cleaning his right arm, no signs remained of his injury. Not even a scar, as if nothing but the last falling snowflakes had touched it.
Liron had never met an Alchemist, but he had expected their look to be molded by a life of comfort and lack of physical labor. But nothing about Angin had matched his expectations. He had fighting experience, handling the pursuit of the most famed Knight Dracon with bravura. He cursed and joked like a smith, not a hint of hesitation before saying something that would make a soldier blush. But he had also put on a front for Liron when they first met, presenting himself like a scholar should. He had shown interest in Liron before all went to shit, probably planning to use him for the Resistance's sake.
Aning had saved his life, but this didn't mean he had the best intentions.
Liron finished his meat, feeling human again. The exhaustion hit him hard, but he refused to rest. He needed answers.
"How did you move the mink?" Liron asked.
Angin blinked. He sucked the grease from his finger, licking up everything he could. "Hm?"
Liron mimicked the way Angin had steered the animal. "How does this work? You stabbed it in the head. It should have died. How did you do this?"
Angin wiped the grease from his mouth, smiling. "Well, Liron, I told you that I specialized in the human body. I know it better than any traitor of my craft in the Empire. I understand what it allows to function and how to repair it. To answer your question, I have to ask you one, too. Do you know what's in the heads of us and all greater beasts?"
"I know what a brain is," Liron said, narrowing his eyes.
"Excellent. What do you know about it?"
"Well, get hit hard enough in the face and people stop workin'. Doesn't happen when you get punched in the gut or on the arm. So, the brain keeps things runnin', I guess."
"Yes, Liron, good! The brain is an essential organ in the human body. It would take too long to count all the many functions it serves. Well, one of them is controlling our motion. What I did with our dear mink friend was stimulate the areas of the brain responsible for controlling its limbs.
"As I said, I specialized in the human body. So, I needed a bit to find the right spots and how to properly influence them. Trust me, I would have preferred not to risk it all on that rat, but the flying asshole didn't give me much of a choice. Taking advantage of the animals in the forest. Smart. I will give him that."
"How did you sti… stimulate the brain of the mink?"
Angin touched the heater. It looked similar to the engine, having a hole in which Angin had put the rest of his golden flakes in. Under his touch, it shifted. He removed a strip of it, turning it into a smaller version of the needles. He held it as before, but now Liron could see how five twigs grew out of the needle head, multiplying as they grew, resembling the roots of a tree. Angin moved his fist around, and Liron grimaced. How the mink had survived for this long was a question to which Liron didn't want an answer.
Angin returned the needle to its old form, reattaching it to the heater. He found some amusement in Liron's reaction. "I didn't take any pleasure in it. It had to be done. But this isn't the last of your questions. Please ask. A young mind like yours should be hungry for answers. Let's not keep it starving."
"You're an Alchemist…"
"Indeed, I am."
"Ehr… how does it work? You… touched things, and they… changed. I mean, your arm. It should be gone. Fuck, you should have pissed yourself from the pain alone."
Angin stroked the spots where the bone shards had ripped through his flesh, a melancholic smile on his lips. "'My flesh is clay, and I am the sculptor.'"
"What?"
Angin shook himself, his usual nonchalance returning. "Just a saying some of us Alchemists have. Not relevant. So, you want to know about Alchemy? Well, then I am the perfect man to ask. Alchemy, you see, is the art of change. Of turning one substance into something else."
He picked up a stone, holding it between his fingers. As his eyes intensified, the stone melted, appearing like mud. "This, Liron, is the art of transmutation."
The mud shifted yet again, reshaped into a stone once more. But while similar, it wasn't the same as before. Liron watched the demonstration like a child would a puppet show. "How… how does it work?"
"As I said, we Alchemists transmute things in our vicinity. But our abilities are not boundless. I can transmute this stone into mud, but I can't just turn it into water or fire. Our capabilities are hindered by three things: our understanding of the thing we are trying to transmute, what we are trying to transmute it into, and the relation between the two.
"While this stone is a rather simple object, I still require some knowledge of its nature. As I do with mud. Without understanding either of them, what defines them at their core, and how they can be, I can't do anything with them. But even if I do understand the two well enough, it doesn't mean I can transmute them. The closer two objects are related, the easier it is to transmute them into one another. Snow, for example, can be turned into water, and water can turn into steam or ice. Wood cannot become steel."
Angin played with the stone in his hand. "No, there are certain limitations to our abilities. But there are two exceptions. The first is gold. Gold is at the heart of it all. Why, no one knows. Better and savvier Alchemists than me tried and failed to answer that question. Gold is the only substance that can be turned into anything else. No matter what. This is why every Alchemist is always in desperate need of it.
"The second exception is Silvered Gold. Have you heard of it?"
"Heard, yes," Liron said. Warpriest or any other representatives of the Empire never mentioned it, and they refused to answer questions about it. Only returning soldiers like Dieter had talked about it in whispers. And most never returned. "It's worth a lot, right?"
Angin laughed at that. "More than you could ever imagine. Liron, where gold is the heart of Alchemy, Silvered Gold is the heart of the Empire and the Qilesh."
Liron gawked at that. "What do you mean?"
"Have you ever wondered why the Empire and the Qilesh are fighting in Sannara?"
"Ehr… no. I thought… that just happened. Casar couldn't push them to the Tainted Mountains. But I guess the Silvered Gold is only in Sannara."
Angin pointed at him, nodding approvingly. "While the Empire's records cannot be trusted, Casar did drive them out of the Empire after they nearly destroyed it. And yes, we can tell that he failed to beat them back to the Tainted Mountains. One reason for this was their dwindled resources. That they had survived the Qilesh's attack was a miracle in itself, considering the Cities of Ukun fell in weeks to them. They just didn't have the manpower to do much more, which was true for the Qilesh, too.
"But another reason they didn't was what they discovered in Sannara. The Empire did a splendid work in rewriting history, so we don't have many trustworthy records of this time. What we can deduce is that the Silver Moon hadn't been here at Ekon for too long during Casar's rise. The Silverlight's effects weren't understood yet."
Angin held the stone in one hand, using his other to gesture, adding to his enthusiastic explanations. "Our comprehension of Silver Light is still rather lacking, but we have enough proof to say with certainty that it influenced Ekon on a massive scale. The wildlife, for example, has mutated, growing in magnitude. We, as humans, have lost complexion in hair, skin, and eyes, all paling. Furthermore, our strength, endurance, and general potential were enhanced. To the people from the time of the True Dawn, we would be considered beyond human.
"Similar influences can be deduced by analyzing the little records we have on plant life and minerals, too. But they lack what we have experienced in the generations since. With one exception. Gold. Gold, Liron has changed. The one that can be mined in Sannara, at least. As a desert, Sannara…"
"Ehr, Angin… this is gettin'… a bit much," Liron said, rubbing his aching head. "Could you… get to the point… please."
Angin rolled his eyes, grimacing. "Well, fine. Gold in Sannara can absorb Silver Light, storing it. Through this, its capabilities get boosted. Where I can turn a bar of gold into fire, Silvered Gold would turn it into an inferno. But it's not just that. Silvered Light is pure energy. Lunar panels only absorb a fraction compared to the gold in Sannara, and look at what they can power already.
"Silvered Gold is what keeps the Empire afloat, powering and financing this entire facade. The traitorous scum that works for them, many specialize in transmuting Silvered Gold into the stored energy inside it. Due to it, the Empire can operate its greater machines and cities. The Qilesh use it similarly, strengthening their forces and using it for their flesh gardens."
"Flesh gardens?"
"Oh, believe me, you don't want to know. I hate the Empire as much as someone can, but they found an equal in the Fleshdancer. They are the mirror image of one another."
Angin's face twisted each time he had to put the Empire in his mouth, spitting it out like spoiled food. Liron studied the Alchemist. He still had so many questions for him, but all that had happened and everything Angin had told him weighed on his mind. He couldn't process it anymore. A part of him, though, refused to trust his words, outraged by the amount of heresy he had to listen to. To claim that the brave soldiers of the Empire and all its many heroes fought mainly to mine. What an insult to Harras's Scion and all his servants.
But he had seen the Empire's mercy. Lichtwald still burned. The flames wouldn't spread, the remnants of the winter's cold fending off its advance. Yet it had left scars already, scorched branches reaching for the sky like the burned hands of the damned, begging for salvation from the Dread Raven.
Having food in his stomach and no enemy to run away from, Liron struggled to stay awake. The Silver Moon had reached its zenith, beginning its descent towards the horizon, shining into their cave. He desired nothing more than rest, but he wanted one more question to be answered.
"Why do you fight them?" Liron asked. "Why have you joined the Resistance?"
"Liron, you have seen what those cunts are like. They hunted you like a rabid dog. Why ask?"
"I mean, you've answered it yourself. The Empire hunts every heretic. Yeah, I've seen what they do… I thought they only do it to ones deservin' it…," Liron said, wondering whether he belonged to those after all. "Why risk it? You know what could await you? Why do it then?"
Angin ran his thumbs over the stone, hair falling over his face. What little Liron saw of his face overflowed with something sad and honest. "Because it's easy. Hate can come to us all, Liron. In this world of ours, it's the only thing that can keep us warm."
Liron pulled his knees to his chest. "And what if you win?"
That one took Angin by surprise. "What?"
Liron shrugged. "What happens if the Resistance wins? The Qilesh want to kill us all, right? Isn't the Empire the only thing stopping them from eating us?"
"It is. One of the few truths it spreads."
"So, what will happen then? What comes after the Empire?"
"Big questions, Liron. Good. You do have potential. But you should be careful whom you ask them to."
Liron's vision wavered, his head resting against his knees. "You're not answering," he mumbled, his tongue heavy. As Liron slipped into his well-deserved slumber, he caught glimpses of Angin watching him. Did he smile? He couldn't tell.
"It's simple. Just kill them all. What comes after… hopefully, something better. Perhaps I should wonder what that could be."