Freewrite featuring Riktan the Alchemist

Riktan is a young man, like a really young man. He plans to join the Academy of Alchemy. However, this prestigious university only allows those with talent in alchemy to join. Money, power, prestige, or even willingness to learn, knowledge, and work ethic are all secondary to pure alchemical talent. Unlike most universities, the amount of students accepted each semester is incredibly small, perhaps 20 students each semester at most. You have to actively audition for placement in courses in front of the board of directors for the academy as though this were some talent show rather than a university.

Riktan is sitting out in the lobby waiting for his turn to audition. There is one person in front of him until it is his turn. The auditioner in front of him is trembling nervously, holding two glass vials. One has a small pinch of red dust at the bottom and the other is halfway full of a yellow liquid. Their quivering hands cause the vials to shake slightly, blurring the image of the two vials that are next to each other until they seem to overlap. Riktan can see in the overlapping image that the two substances join together to become a tiny human that fits inside the glass vial.

Riktan suddenly feels self-conscious. The person in front of him is a full grown adult man, but he’s shaking in fear. Should Riktan feel nervous too? Riktan doesn’t have any tiny humans to show off, nor does he really have any real idea of what he can do to wow the directors. He doesn’t even have much interest in alchemy. He is only auditioning for the sake of his family’s name and reputation. He is from a prestigious family of alchemists. No one expects him to actually succeed in getting into the academy. If only 20 people out of thousands of the most talented alchemists in the world get in, then what hope does he have, even being from a prestigious line of alchemists? However, it would dishonor his family name if he didn’t even try to get in. His family knows his lack of interest in the subject of alchemy, so they know not to even hope that he might be one of the few that make it in, but they urged him to audition so that the public doesn’t realize that he isn’t an alchemist. The directors will know that he isn’t an alchemist, but they face many applicants that have no talent or experience, and with thousands of applicants auditioning, they probably won’t even remember his name.

Over the speaker, a name is called out “Kerospal Nepton, please come to the stage.” The auditioner in front of Riktan goes stiff in fear. But slowly, he stands up and awkwardly shuffles through the door to the stage where he will show off his alchemical talents to the directors. Riktan doesn’t know what he should do. He hadn’t thought to bring anything since he doesn’t know how to use ingredients. He wishes he could at least have something to show the directors. Anything would be better than showing up to the audition with literally nothing to offer and no performance or talent planned. He hears a loud boom and the whole room shakes. It came from the stage. It sounds like Kerospal made a big impression, hopefully a good one. He still hasn’t come up with anything when his name is called out on the speaker, “Riktan Mixologist.” He stands and goes through the door to the stage.

He hopes there are no cameras. It’s bad enough for him to admit that he isn’t an alchemist, he wouldn’t want the whole world knowing. As he walks up to the center of the stage one of the directors says, “Be careful, there is glass and all sorts of compounds on the ground from accidents.” Riktan looks down and sees that there is indeed quite a lot of glass, powders, and liquids on the stage floor. However, he also sees the tiny man that he saw in the Kerospol’s vials.

Riktan looks up at the directors and says, “W-what are we going to do about him?” The directors seem confused, “Who?” One of them asks. Riktan gestures to the tiny person. “What are we going to do with that little man concocted by the last auditioner?” The directors still seem confused, but one of them perks up. This director has a bushy beard and wears thick red-tinted spectacles. It speaks in a gruff voice, “What do you see, boy?” Riktan crouches down to get a better look. “The tiny man is about half of a hand-span tall. It is dressed in a white dress shirt with a black suit jacket over it and a red bow-tie.” The tiny man looks at Riktan and a voice in his head speaks in a surprised voice: You can see me?

Riktan gasps and scrambles backwards. The tiny man didn’t move its mouth, but it is clear that the voice in his head is coming from the tiny person. That’s a yes, then. I need your help. The board of directors watch Riktan intently, as though judging his reactions. The voice in his head continues to speak. Kerospol created me, a homunculus. He made a mistake, so my form is unstable. You must use the scattered substances spilled all over the floor to complete me or I’ll melt within a few minutes. Ritkan doesn’t know how to respond to this poor little person. He knows he can’t help him. But if the poor homunculus is going to die within a few minutes anyway, and Riktan himself doesn’t have any other plans for an alchemical performance to show the board of directors. So he decides to give the homunculus hope in its last minutes of life by making a show of trying to save him.

“I can’t promise anything.” Riktan says, “You’re pretty far gone, but I’ll give it a try.” The director with the bushy beard and red spectacles chuckles. He turns to his fellow directors and whispers “Watch closely, we’re in for a show.” Riktan isn’t too sure what that director is expecting to see, he feels a bit bad knowing that he will disappoint that director. Riktan looks down at the substances spilled on the ground. There are all sorts of powders, metals, liquids, and even broken vials and distillery equipment. He notices that areas are steaming acid from volatile mixtures. He decides to avoid those. He remembers that the two substances that Kerospol was carrying that he must have combined to create the homunculus were half a vial of yellow liquid and a incredibly small amount of red dust. Such a small amount of dust doesn’t seem like it would be enough to create a tiny person. Maybe he could add some more to it, that makes enough sense that it shouldn’t alert the homunculus to his complete lack of survival chance.  He grabs some red dust from the floor and is about to sprinkle it over the homunculus when he gets the distinct feeling that it’s wrong. Perhaps it isn’t the same red dust. He just can’t shake the feeling that sprinkling it on the homunculus would be a bad idea. He drops the red dust back to the floor and looks around, none of the red dust on the ground seems right. He wonders if he can combine some of the substances to create the red dust. But when he considers adding the red dust, the idea seems wrong. He remembers how the two substances blurred together when the images of the vials overlapped from Kerospol’s shaking hands. The color of the yellow liquid was overpowered by the color of the red dust. The light refracted through the yellow liquid, turning it a dark red, like blood. The absurd idea of cutting himself to draw blood, sprinkling that on the homunculus is absurd, but it seems strangely natural to Riktan. He tries to convince himself that it is a terrible idea, that the homunculus is going to die no matter what he does. That he would only be embarrassing himself in front of the board of directors if he drew blood. But it just feels so right, like it is the best thing he can do. Riktan shakily picks up a broken shard of glass from one of the shattered flasks scattered on the ground. He raises it to his palm and slowly slides it across. The homunculus’s eyes go wide in shock and the board of directors begin to get up from their seats, wave their hands and shout for him to stop but are silenced by the director with a bushy beard and red spectacles, who says “We mustn’t interfere with the auditions. After so many accidents, why would you all get queasy from a little blood?” The blood starts trickling out of a paper-thin cut in the palm of Riktan’s hand. The homunculus cringes backwards as Riktan smears his blood onto the skin of the homunculus. The blood quickly disappears, absorbed by the homunculus’s skin.