FA+
Shop
I've been busy with commission work (including some stuff you haven't seen), and it's gotten pretty dark. I'm good with that, but I did feel like I was in the mood for a light palate-cleanser. If this story is how you're finding me and you think, "Gee, what a wholesome and cute story, I wonder what else this author has produced," all I can say is I'm so sorry.
Two friendly reminders. Reminder one: I have a Discord server! They not only saw this first, but saw an unfinished version, encouraged me to finish it, then gave some very helpful feedback. We're not always the most active bunch, but I think we're pretty cool. Reminder two: My commissions are still open, and I'm hoping this little breath of fresh air is showcasing my range. If you've got a story, clean or adult, light or dark, that you'd like to see brought to life, you can find my commission info in my bio. Hit me up, and we'll see what we can do.
With all that out of the way, please enjoy.
Bloom
Parker knocks on the door. His hands are shaking. Is it excitement? Fear? General nerves?
Probably that last one.
He needs this to work. And for that, he needs help. He’s just terrified that the alchemist won’t be able to provide it. But, Parker reminds himself as he hears footsteps approaching the door, this man is supposed to be the best of the best. If anyone can help Parker, it’s him.
The door opens. On the other side is the alchemist, a slender pine marten who’s entirely dressed the part, from his flowing midnight-blue robes to the belt full of vials and flasks to the floppy-brimmed, pointy hat. His twinkling green eyes are kind, and he offers the friendliest of smiles, like he’s known Parker all his life.
“Hello there!” The marten exclaims brightly. “How can I help you?”
Parker quickly shoves his hands in his pockets to hide how they’re shaking, but that’s already subsiding: The alchemist’s kind expression is already expelling the badger’s qualms. “Um. H-hi.” He hadn’t actually thought ahead far enough to figure out what he was going to say. “I need some help. Um, some specialized help. Alchemist help.”
“Well, come on in,” the alchemist says, stepping aside to allow the badger entry, “and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks.” Parker steps in, but not before wiping his dusty boots on the mat out front.
“I’m Luca, by the way,” the alchemist says as he closes the door.
Parker actually forgets to respond for a second, he’s too busy looking around in wonder. The large front room of the alchemist–Luca’s–cottage is clearly where he does business. There’s a large cauldron bubbling away in the center of the room, and lining the walls are all manner of potions in all manner of vials, in every color one can imagine, and a few that one can’t. They’re all neatly labeled, and Parker finds himself tripping over even his own name when he replies, “P-Parker.”
Luca takes his place behind the counter that’s set to the left of the door. “What brings you in today, Parker? Looking for a potion?”
Parker’s brow furrows. “I’m not actually sure, but probably.”
Luca quirks his own brow. “Probably?” Parker reaches into the messenger bag at his side, rifles around, and pulls out a small glass vial, stopped with a cork. He offers it out for Luca’s inspection. The alchemist holds it up to the light streaming in through the window next to the counter and asks, “What are these, seeds?”
“They are,” Parker confirms. “I’m a botanist. An archaeobotanist, to be more specific.”
“Oh, exciting.” Luca doesn’t sound at all sarcastic about it, either. “So, these are old seeds.”
“Very old.”
“And you want me to…?”
“Revive them. They’re dormant, and they’ll need some encouragement if I’m actually going to get them to grow.”
Luca frowns slightly, returning the vial to Parker. “That might be tricky,” he says. “Generally, alchemy can’t really create or otherwise cause life.”
“I thought you might say that. But there’s a catch. An extenuating circumstance.”
Luca cants his head to the side slightly, the tip of his hat now resting in a sunbeam. “Go on?”
“If I’m right…” Parker swallows, looking at the seeds. That’s a big ‘if’. But he continues. “If I’m right, these are Aetherbloom seeds.”
Luca blinks a couple times, opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it again. This repeats a time or two before he’s finally able to get out the words, “You’re joking.”
“Based on where I found them and what properties I have been able to observe, I’m about ninety-nine percent certain.”
“I thought nobody had ever confirmed they even existed at all.”
“Well, maybe we’re the somebodies the world has been waiting for.”
Luca grins widely, Parker’s evident excitement seeming to spread. “If those are Aetherbloom, that certainly changes things. That’s supposedly the most potent magical plant to have ever existed. If the stories are true, then there’s definitely enough magic in those to bring some life out of them. They’ll need some convincing, though. And I won’t be able to do it alone. I’ll need your help.”
“Of course. Anything.”
“First, though, I need to see how familiar you are with alchemy as a concept. Do you know how it works?”
“I think so,” the badger replies, still tightly clutching his seeds. “Everything that nature produces–plants, minerals, rocks, bugs–have latent magic in them. And those of you who are born with the gift can use your magic to sort of… wake it up?”
Luca nods sagely. “We activate nature’s magic using our own as a catalyst. After that, it’s just a process of mixing the right things together. But it’s not just plants and rocks and bugs, you know.”
“No?”
“Alchemists deal in the metaphysical as much as the natural. I can brew passion, bottle a myth, catch a sunset in a jar. And you mustn’t forget: We’re natural. By extension, so are the things we make.”
Parker looks a little confused, bordering on skeptical. “Really?”
“Really,” Luca says, adjusting his hat slightly as the brim flops down in front of his eyes. “It takes a really strong alchemist to bring out the magic in man-made things, though, since it’s pretty diluted. Fortunately, and not to brag, I’m one such alchemist.”
“So you think we have a shot at this?”
“If anyone does, we do,” Luca assures him. “I can help, on one condition.”
“Oh, r-right. I don’t have much money, but-”
Luca holds up a hand to stop the botanist. “I neither need nor want your money. If we bring the Aetherbloom back, and if we can propagate it successfully, then I get exclusive rights to use it for alchemy. And before you ask, I’m not asking for proprietary rights for heartless capitalist purposes. If the legends are true, then this plant is dangerous, and I’m the only one I trust enough to learn its properties and how to use it safely. Once I have it figured out, then it belongs to everyone.”
Parker doesn’t have to think for more than a second before offering out his hand. “You have yourself a deal.”
Luca treats Parker to another one of those charming grins as he returns the handshake. “Excellent.”
“So, where do we start? You said you need something from me?”
Luca nods, the point on his hat bobbing. “Yes, yes. I’ll need the closest living relative to the Aetherbloom that you can find.”
“That… might be tricky. It’s a legend, there’s really not a lot of literature about it. Nothing overtly credible, anyway.”
“Tricky or not, it’s what I’ll need. If the Aetherbloom’s a legend, then maybe legend is where you should start, not textbooks.”
Parker reaches up to scratch at the base of his right ear as he thinks about the suggestion. “I mean, I guess?”
“It’s where I’ll be starting.” When Parker gives Luca a quizzical look, the marten says, “I’m not making you do all the work. I’ll need to know about the Aetherbloom’s supposed alchemical properties if I want to wake it up properly. You do the science, I’ll do the magic. Sound good?”
“Y-yeah. Sounds good.”
“Do you want to meet back here in, say, a week? Just to touch base? I’ll make you dinner.”
Parker quickly stammers, “You d-don’t have to do that, really-”
“I know, but I want to. We’re partners now, we should hang out at least a little.”
“Y-yeah. Partners.”
Through the front window, Parker can see further into Luca’s cottage as he approaches, glimpsing the pine marten and his pointy hat in the dining room. He’s just straightening out the spoons when Parker knocks on the door, and he bustles over, pulling it open. “Parker!” He exclaims. Once again, he steps aside to allow the badger entry. “Please, do come in.”
Parker wipes off his feet before stepping inside, where he has to remark, “It smells amazing in here.”
“My famous root veggie soup,” Luca explains. He sets off further into the cottage, beckoning for Parker to follow.
“I forgot to say it last time,” Parker says as he takes a seat offered by Luca, “but you have a lovely home.”
“Thank you. I’m quite partial to it.”
Luca steps into the kitchen, serves up two bowls of soup, then brings them back out to the dining room. The first goes in front of Parker, the second in front of himself. Luca offers a brief, personal prayer in a language Parker doesn’t understand before saying, “Tuck in.”
Parker does, successfully not making a noise of satisfaction as the broth hits his tongue. “So,” he says between bites, “I think I’m making headway.”
Luca is absolutely chowing down. For having such a slender frame, the man seems to enjoy his food quite a bit. Still, he finds time to ask, “Oh?”
Parker nods. “I took your advice and started looking at old stories and fables. Apparently, it would bloom in late winter, which was actually really useful. Between that, its supposed geographic location, and a few other tidbits of information I found, I think it’s related somehow to the genus Galanthus.”
Luca grins, but replies, “You’re going to have to translate that one for me.”
“Snowdrops,” Parker clarifies. “Even if the Aetherbloom wasn’t a direct ancestor, they probably at least shared one.”
“Oh, that’s good to know,” Luca says, gesticulating with his spoon. His bowl’s empty. “That’ll help things on my end. All I know is that the Aetherbloom was supposed to be revelatory in some fashion. Accounts differ on what that means. Some say it lets you discern the truth from a lie, some say that it reveals the very nature of the universe.”
Parker, after finishing his own bowl, says, “That’s a pretty wide margin.”
“Right?” Luca rolls his eyes. “Would it have killed these ancient people to just write some stuff down straightforwardly?”
Parker leans back in his seat, crossing his arms casually. “If it’s as potent and dangerous as you say it might be, then they might have kept accounts vague on purpose as some kind of safety measure.”
Luca’s still holding his spoon in a manner reminiscent of a magic wand. “That would make an unfortunate deal of sense.” He finally sets his spoon down. “The good news is, snowdrops are pretty useful, so I keep some in the greenhouse. Which I guess makes sense, if they’re related to the Aetherbloom.”
“You have a greenhouse?”
Luca nods. “It’s not huge, so I don’t grow a lot in there, but I keep the most useful stuff on hand.”
“Wouldn’t that change seasonally, though?”
“You would think so, but I developed a fertilizer that allows plants to always grow as if it’s their season.”
Parker blinks a couple of times. “That’s incredible. How’d you manage that?”
“Oh, you know,” Luca says, leaning back himself, “A pinch of time, a smidge of belonging, and a little zhuzh of bamboo to hasten the growth along. Among other things.”
Whereas Luca leaned back, Parker leans in. “Did you say ‘time’? Like the concept?”
Luca nods. “I’m good at what I do.” When Parker doesn’t know how to respond, Luca flashes another charming grin. “Speaking of, I think I’m making progress on the potion side of things. I’ll need a little more time, though, just to make sure I’m getting all of my measurements right.”
“Oh, of course,” Parker quickly says. “I mean, it’s only been a week. And I still need to make doubly sure about the snowdrops.”
“I,” Luca then says, “am intrigued about how you discovered these seeds in the first place. Any chance you want to tell me about it over a cup of tea?”
Parker’s eyes light up; he’s very clearly the sort of person who will excitedly talk about his work ad nauseam when given the go-ahead. “I’d love to.”
Luca’s own eyes twinkle softly. “I’ll go put the kettle on.”
‘I had a breakthrough last night. The potion is ready. Come as soon as you can. (Don’t put off anything important for it, it’s not time-sensitive, I’m just impatient. It’s a personal flaw that I’m not working on.)
-Luca’
Parker, the letter tucked safely in the bag at his side along with the seeds, knocks on the alchemist’s door. It’s barely been an hour since the messenger pigeon delivered said letter earlier in the morning, but since their dinner a week ago, Parker’s been obsessing over the possibility of bringing the bloom back to life. The second he was told there was a chance, he had to come running. He briefly wonders if that’s the only reason he came running the moment Luca came calling, but he puts that thought out of his mind.
Even though the sign on the outside of the door says ‘closed for business,’ Luca’s voice from within calls, “It’s open!” Parker wipes his feet and pushes open the door, emerging into the alchemist’s workshop. Luca, standing at his cauldron, looks back at Parker. And there’s that grin that Parker’s come to expect. “How are you today?”
“Excited,” Parker says unashamedly, stepping forward to peer into the cauldron. Inside is a liquid that’s swirling green and blue. “This is it?”
“This is it,” Luca confirms. “I stumbled across some surprisingly edifying texts in the archives last night. This, I believe, should roughly approximate the magical properties associated with the Aetherbloom. Combined with the snowdrops, this should reawaken the seeds by reminding them of what they were. There’s just one thing missing.”
Parker finally tears his eyes away from the alchemical concoction to meet Luca’s gaze. “Is it something I can help with?”
“Yes and no. I need you here for it, but I don’t need anything from you.” When Parker looks confused, Luca elaborates: “Let me explain. I need a source of honesty, but that’s pretty hard to bottle, so I don’t really keep any on hand. It needs to be obtained in-the-moment.” Luca then clears his throat and straightens both his posture and his hat. “To that end, I’m going to say something to you, and you’re going to politely pretend that I didn’t, and we’ll move on.”
Parker shoves his hands in his pockets again, his brow furrowing in concern. “Is… Is everything okay?” He asks, his nerves getting the better of him.
“Of course, of course.” Luca clears his throat again, then says, “I just need to be honest and tell you that I find myself quite taken with you.”
Before Parker can even really comprehend what he’s just heard, let alone respond, Luca’s hand shoots out into the air, closing around something that Parker can’t see. The alchemist produces an empty vial from his belt of them, then holds it beneath his hand. He opens his fingers slightly, and the honesty pours from them as a shimmering purple liquid. He then procures an eyedropper to pull out a single drop of the honesty, which he adds to the cauldron, which puffs with pink steam. Parker’s held enrapt by the process, but not so enrapt that he doesn’t notice Luca’s lack of eye contact.
“There we have it,” the pine marten says as if nothing’s just happened. “The seeds?”
Parker’s hands are shaking as he fumbles in his bag for them, but he eventually holds up the vial. Luca takes it, uncorks it, and tips in the seeds, the little black things floating in the simmering potion below. “We’ll just let those sit a minute,” Luca says, staring into the cauldron with rapt attention. Parker, still silent, nods. After the prescribed minute, Luca uses a fine-mesh strainer to fish them out, then he turns to Parker and grins. “To the greenhouse?”
The badger nods. “Lead the- the way.”
Luca guides Parker through the cottage to the back door, ducking as he exits the house so he doesn’t knock his hat off. In the clearing in the woods that forms Luca’s backyard is the greenhouse, a modestly-sized thing that’s full of greenery and color, even from the outside. They step inside, and Parker immediately begins mentally cataloguing all the various plants and flowers Luca has growing. Indeed, most of them aren’t in season, but they’re all blooming regardless.
Luca walks up to a small plot that’s either been empty, or was emptied just for this task, and he picks up a trowel, which he hands to Parker. Parker takes it wordlessly and begins making small holes in a neatly-aligned grid shape. He deposits one seed into each hole, then covers them back up with the displaced dirt. Luca procures a watering can, and Parker trades him for the trowel. One healthy splash of water later, Luca and Parker are left staring down at the dirt.
“As much as I’d love for something to happen right away,” Luca comments, taking the watering can and setting it in its designated place, “my understanding is that it could take a few days before we know if anything’s happened.”
Parker nods as he dusts off his hands, getting rid of some of the dirt on his fingertips. “Yeah. Unfortunately, botany is not a fast science.”
“How often should I water them?”
“For now? Once a day should be fine, about as much as I did just now. And you’ll, um, let me know when something sprouts?”
Luca’s smile is a little softer than Parker has come to expect. “Of course. I appreciate the hopefulness of the phrase ‘when’ they sprout, and not ‘if’ they sprout.”
Parker looks down, a little sheepish. “You’re right. This is the find of the century if I’m right, so I might be getting ahead of myself a bit.”
“It’s okay to be excited,” Luca gently reminds him. “Besides. I have faith in us. When they sprout, I’ll send you a note.”
Parker finally brings himself to meet Luca’s gaze. He hasn’t done that since back at the cauldron. With a cautious smile of his own, he nods.
The sign on Luca’s door says ‘open for business,’ but Parker still knocks anyway. It seems no matter how many times he knocks excitedly on Luca’s door, he doesn’t get used to it. He can’t help the excitement, though, not when there’s a letter tucked in his bag declaring that the seeds have sprouted.
Luca opens the door, and his bright smile is back. “You came quickly,” he notes as Parker wipes his feet and enters the cottage.
“How could I not? Can I see them?”
Luca’s hat bobs as he nods. “Of course. I’ve got to tend shop, but the greenhouse is unlocked. Feel free to head on back.”
“Thanks.” Parker wastes no time in heading out the back door and across the small yard to the greenhouse. Inside, he finds the promised sprouts. He also finds why Luca’s letter told him to bring some pigments along if he planned on making any sketches: They’re glowing bright blue.
Parker’s grin is bordering on giddy as he pulls out his sketchbook, and he actually has to take a minute to calm himself in order to get his hands still enough to begin his drawings. He leans in as close as he can, peering at each sprout in turn. He’s not content just to draw them; no, he starts cataloguing every single characteristic in almost excruciating detail. He takes measurements, makes observations, calculates angles, and even scores every single leaf’s coloration on a verdancy scale of his own devising. He’s so excited that he forgets to jump in alarm when the greenhouse door is opened and Luca steps in. Parker, still knelt in front of the Aetherbloom plot, looks to the alchemist, his face lighting up. “You did it,” he manages to say.
“We did it,” Luca gently corrects while bearing a similar grin. “Come on,” he then says with a little nod towards the house. “I’m closed for lunch. I’ve made you a sandwich.”
Parker, rising fully, blinks a couple of times in surprise. “I’ve only just got here.”
“Parker,” Luca gently corrects, “you’ve been scribbling in various notebooks out here for three hours now.”
Parker reaches up to scratch at an ear. “Oops,” he decides on.
Luca rolls his eyes. “Come on. Lunch is ready.”
“You didn’t have to feed me,” Parker tells the pine marten as they walk to the cottage.
“I know, but I wanted to feed you.”
Parker finds the sandwich waiting for him on the table, but he helps himself to a seat and pulls out his notebooks first, spreading them out on the table. Only once he can read over his notes while eating does he pick up the sandwich and take a bite.
“Oh, gods,” he surprises himself by saying, forgetting himself and speaking with his mouth full. He manages to chew and swallow before saying, “This is incredible. What is it?”
Luca, sitting across from Parker, finishes his own bite before replying, “What you’re probably picking up on is the herbed butter. My own recipe.”
“It’s incredible.”
Luca offers a cheeky wink, then lifts his chin, peering over at all the papers surrounding the botanist. “So, how’s the note-taking going? Learn anything valuable?”
“Everything’s valuable,” the badger replies. “But, I mean, they’re glowing. If that’s not indicative that we’ve got Aetherbloom on our hands, I don’t know what is. Do you mind if I come back later tonight to measure their brightness?”
“Not at all. The greenhouse is always unlocked, so you can let yourself back there any time.”
“Thank you,” Parker says. “I really mean it. I owe you. A lot.”
“You owe me nothing,” Luca corrects in a tone bordering on stern, but one which doesn’t lose its touch of playfulness despite that. “We’re in this together.”
“I’m…” Parker looks down at his sketches and notes, though not to go over them. Just to buy himself a little time. “I’m glad you’re the one I’m in this with.”
Does Luca ever stop smiling? It seems like he’s always got a smile of some kind, it just changes tones every now and then. Right now, it’s soft and warm. “Me too, Parker.”
“Luca?”
“Hm?”
“The- the- um.” Parker swallows. “The other day. At the cauldron. What you told me. Do I-... Do I have to pretend you didn’t say anything?”
For a second, Luca seems so surprised that he forgets to smile. That doesn’t last long, though. “Not if you don’t want to,” he answers smoothly.
“I think… I think I’d quite like it if I got to act on that information.” Without another word, he extends his hand across the table.
Without another word, Luca takes it.
Parker comes over every day for the next week to catalogue the Aetherblooms’ growth. Even when he tries to avoid mealtimes so as not to take advantage of Luca’s hospitality, he can never seem to get out of the alchemist’s home without at least a cup of tea in him.
“It’s remarkable,” Parker notes between sips as he studies his notes, once again laid out on the table in front of him.
Luca, sitting next to him with his own cup, replies, “Do tell.”
“Well, the life cycle on these things are just… it’s incredible. Snowdrops can take years to sprout from seeds, and these popped up in a few days. And one week on, we already have flowers.” He starts flipping through pages, comparing daily sketches as a way to watch the Aetherbloom grow in real-time. The final picture contains the flowers, which are new as of this afternoon. They’re purple in shade, but like the rest of the plant, the light they give off is a bright blue. “At this rate,” the botanist continues, “We’ll have more seeds in just a few days.”
“Ooh, exciting,” Luca says. More seeds means more plants. More plants means he gets to do some alchemy.
Parker, knowing this is Luca’s particular path of logic, looks up and cautions, “Promise me you’ll be careful. We don’t know what these things can do.”
“Cross my heart.” Luca makes a show of doing it literally with his non-tea-holding hand. Parker still wears a concerned expression, but Luca rests a hand on the other man’s knee, squeezing gently. “You don’t have to worry. I’m good at what I do, and I still have all my fingers. I’ve never even lost an eyebrow. I know you have a general proclivity towards anxiety, but I need you to put that aside and trust me.”
Parker takes a deep breath and a steadying sip of tea. “I’ll try. I just worry.”
“I know. I also know that you’re thinking that if something happens, it’ll be your fault somehow. Put that thought out of your mind too.”
“I am the one who brought the seeds.”
“And I am a grown man capable of making all his own decisions. Nothing bad is going to happen, and even if it does, it won’t be your fault. Okay?”
Parker rests his hand atop Luca’s, which is still on the former’s knee. “Okay.”
After a few days come seeds. A few days after the seeds come more plants. The cycle repeats again, and again, until Luca’s greenhouse is almost entirely dominated with Aetherbloom and glows with a brilliant blue splendor. Finally, he and Parker agree that there are enough for the alchemist to start working his craft with them.
Parker continues to come by to check on the plants daily, even while Luca’s working on figuring out their properties and how best to harness them. The more of the blooms there are, the more beautiful they all seem to be in their vivid colors and shimmering glow. When asked how he’s progressing, though, the alchemist always plays coy, replying, “You’ll see,” with a sly little grin.
One day, roughly two months after first crossing Luca’s doorstep, Parker steps into the alchemist’s cottage. He’s finally gotten over his need to knock even when the sign declares that the alchemist’s shop is open.
Inside, he finds Luca standing in front of his cauldron, which, curiously, is only barely simmering, the flames below it closer to mere embers. Parker steps up beside him, peering into the cauldron. The liquid inside is purple, glowing brightly blue.
“How’s it going?” The botanist inquires.
“It’s done,” is Luca’s response.
Parker blinks in surprise, scrutinizing the other man’s gaze to see if he means it in jest. His expression is totally serious. Happy, but serious. As Parker watches, Luca pulls an empty vial from his belt and an eyedropper from his pocket. “It’s… It’s done?”
“It’s done,” Luca repeats as he pulls some of the potion into the eyedropper, which he then injects into the vial.
“What’s it, um, do?” Parker asks nervously as the vial of purple liquid is thrust towards him. He takes it, but he doesn’t drink. Not yet.
Luca adjusts his hat proudly. “It offers the truth.”
“About what?”
“Anything. You take a drink, you ask a question, and you get an answer. About anything,” he then repeats. “The answer to all the secrets of the universe are right here, in this pot. Go on.” Luca waves his hand at the vial, in a general upward motion, like he’s trying to guide it to Parker’s mouth via telekinesis. “Give it a go. Ask anything you like.”
Parker’s hand is shaking, and he closes his eyes, thinking. Finally, he lifts the potion to his lips and tosses it back. He pulls a face at the bitter taste that hits his tongue, but after a second, he opens his eyes. They meet Luca’s. Without a second of hesitation, the botanist moves in, their faces coming together, their lips locking. Luca’s briefly tense with surprise, but he very quickly relaxes into the sensation. The kiss breaks, the two mens’ foreheads now touching, their hands coming together, fingers intertwining.
“Did you really,” Luca asks quietly, “just use a chance at universal wisdom to ask if I wanted a kiss?”
“I might have done,” is Parker’s sheepish confession. “There will always be more Aetherbloom; we’ve seen to that. But every day I go without kissing you is something I can’t get back.”
Luca chuckles, his grip tightening around Parker’s. “I knew I’d make a romantic out of you yet. Next time, you don’t need Aetherbloom, though. You can just ask.”
“In that case: May I do it again?”
“In this case: You may.”
Two friendly reminders. Reminder one: I have a Discord server! They not only saw this first, but saw an unfinished version, encouraged me to finish it, then gave some very helpful feedback. We're not always the most active bunch, but I think we're pretty cool. Reminder two: My commissions are still open, and I'm hoping this little breath of fresh air is showcasing my range. If you've got a story, clean or adult, light or dark, that you'd like to see brought to life, you can find my commission info in my bio. Hit me up, and we'll see what we can do.
With all that out of the way, please enjoy.
Bloom
Parker knocks on the door. His hands are shaking. Is it excitement? Fear? General nerves?
Probably that last one.
He needs this to work. And for that, he needs help. He’s just terrified that the alchemist won’t be able to provide it. But, Parker reminds himself as he hears footsteps approaching the door, this man is supposed to be the best of the best. If anyone can help Parker, it’s him.
The door opens. On the other side is the alchemist, a slender pine marten who’s entirely dressed the part, from his flowing midnight-blue robes to the belt full of vials and flasks to the floppy-brimmed, pointy hat. His twinkling green eyes are kind, and he offers the friendliest of smiles, like he’s known Parker all his life.
“Hello there!” The marten exclaims brightly. “How can I help you?”
Parker quickly shoves his hands in his pockets to hide how they’re shaking, but that’s already subsiding: The alchemist’s kind expression is already expelling the badger’s qualms. “Um. H-hi.” He hadn’t actually thought ahead far enough to figure out what he was going to say. “I need some help. Um, some specialized help. Alchemist help.”
“Well, come on in,” the alchemist says, stepping aside to allow the badger entry, “and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks.” Parker steps in, but not before wiping his dusty boots on the mat out front.
“I’m Luca, by the way,” the alchemist says as he closes the door.
Parker actually forgets to respond for a second, he’s too busy looking around in wonder. The large front room of the alchemist–Luca’s–cottage is clearly where he does business. There’s a large cauldron bubbling away in the center of the room, and lining the walls are all manner of potions in all manner of vials, in every color one can imagine, and a few that one can’t. They’re all neatly labeled, and Parker finds himself tripping over even his own name when he replies, “P-Parker.”
Luca takes his place behind the counter that’s set to the left of the door. “What brings you in today, Parker? Looking for a potion?”
Parker’s brow furrows. “I’m not actually sure, but probably.”
Luca quirks his own brow. “Probably?” Parker reaches into the messenger bag at his side, rifles around, and pulls out a small glass vial, stopped with a cork. He offers it out for Luca’s inspection. The alchemist holds it up to the light streaming in through the window next to the counter and asks, “What are these, seeds?”
“They are,” Parker confirms. “I’m a botanist. An archaeobotanist, to be more specific.”
“Oh, exciting.” Luca doesn’t sound at all sarcastic about it, either. “So, these are old seeds.”
“Very old.”
“And you want me to…?”
“Revive them. They’re dormant, and they’ll need some encouragement if I’m actually going to get them to grow.”
Luca frowns slightly, returning the vial to Parker. “That might be tricky,” he says. “Generally, alchemy can’t really create or otherwise cause life.”
“I thought you might say that. But there’s a catch. An extenuating circumstance.”
Luca cants his head to the side slightly, the tip of his hat now resting in a sunbeam. “Go on?”
“If I’m right…” Parker swallows, looking at the seeds. That’s a big ‘if’. But he continues. “If I’m right, these are Aetherbloom seeds.”
Luca blinks a couple times, opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it again. This repeats a time or two before he’s finally able to get out the words, “You’re joking.”
“Based on where I found them and what properties I have been able to observe, I’m about ninety-nine percent certain.”
“I thought nobody had ever confirmed they even existed at all.”
“Well, maybe we’re the somebodies the world has been waiting for.”
Luca grins widely, Parker’s evident excitement seeming to spread. “If those are Aetherbloom, that certainly changes things. That’s supposedly the most potent magical plant to have ever existed. If the stories are true, then there’s definitely enough magic in those to bring some life out of them. They’ll need some convincing, though. And I won’t be able to do it alone. I’ll need your help.”
“Of course. Anything.”
“First, though, I need to see how familiar you are with alchemy as a concept. Do you know how it works?”
“I think so,” the badger replies, still tightly clutching his seeds. “Everything that nature produces–plants, minerals, rocks, bugs–have latent magic in them. And those of you who are born with the gift can use your magic to sort of… wake it up?”
Luca nods sagely. “We activate nature’s magic using our own as a catalyst. After that, it’s just a process of mixing the right things together. But it’s not just plants and rocks and bugs, you know.”
“No?”
“Alchemists deal in the metaphysical as much as the natural. I can brew passion, bottle a myth, catch a sunset in a jar. And you mustn’t forget: We’re natural. By extension, so are the things we make.”
Parker looks a little confused, bordering on skeptical. “Really?”
“Really,” Luca says, adjusting his hat slightly as the brim flops down in front of his eyes. “It takes a really strong alchemist to bring out the magic in man-made things, though, since it’s pretty diluted. Fortunately, and not to brag, I’m one such alchemist.”
“So you think we have a shot at this?”
“If anyone does, we do,” Luca assures him. “I can help, on one condition.”
“Oh, r-right. I don’t have much money, but-”
Luca holds up a hand to stop the botanist. “I neither need nor want your money. If we bring the Aetherbloom back, and if we can propagate it successfully, then I get exclusive rights to use it for alchemy. And before you ask, I’m not asking for proprietary rights for heartless capitalist purposes. If the legends are true, then this plant is dangerous, and I’m the only one I trust enough to learn its properties and how to use it safely. Once I have it figured out, then it belongs to everyone.”
Parker doesn’t have to think for more than a second before offering out his hand. “You have yourself a deal.”
Luca treats Parker to another one of those charming grins as he returns the handshake. “Excellent.”
“So, where do we start? You said you need something from me?”
Luca nods, the point on his hat bobbing. “Yes, yes. I’ll need the closest living relative to the Aetherbloom that you can find.”
“That… might be tricky. It’s a legend, there’s really not a lot of literature about it. Nothing overtly credible, anyway.”
“Tricky or not, it’s what I’ll need. If the Aetherbloom’s a legend, then maybe legend is where you should start, not textbooks.”
Parker reaches up to scratch at the base of his right ear as he thinks about the suggestion. “I mean, I guess?”
“It’s where I’ll be starting.” When Parker gives Luca a quizzical look, the marten says, “I’m not making you do all the work. I’ll need to know about the Aetherbloom’s supposed alchemical properties if I want to wake it up properly. You do the science, I’ll do the magic. Sound good?”
“Y-yeah. Sounds good.”
“Do you want to meet back here in, say, a week? Just to touch base? I’ll make you dinner.”
Parker quickly stammers, “You d-don’t have to do that, really-”
“I know, but I want to. We’re partners now, we should hang out at least a little.”
“Y-yeah. Partners.”
***Through the front window, Parker can see further into Luca’s cottage as he approaches, glimpsing the pine marten and his pointy hat in the dining room. He’s just straightening out the spoons when Parker knocks on the door, and he bustles over, pulling it open. “Parker!” He exclaims. Once again, he steps aside to allow the badger entry. “Please, do come in.”
Parker wipes off his feet before stepping inside, where he has to remark, “It smells amazing in here.”
“My famous root veggie soup,” Luca explains. He sets off further into the cottage, beckoning for Parker to follow.
“I forgot to say it last time,” Parker says as he takes a seat offered by Luca, “but you have a lovely home.”
“Thank you. I’m quite partial to it.”
Luca steps into the kitchen, serves up two bowls of soup, then brings them back out to the dining room. The first goes in front of Parker, the second in front of himself. Luca offers a brief, personal prayer in a language Parker doesn’t understand before saying, “Tuck in.”
Parker does, successfully not making a noise of satisfaction as the broth hits his tongue. “So,” he says between bites, “I think I’m making headway.”
Luca is absolutely chowing down. For having such a slender frame, the man seems to enjoy his food quite a bit. Still, he finds time to ask, “Oh?”
Parker nods. “I took your advice and started looking at old stories and fables. Apparently, it would bloom in late winter, which was actually really useful. Between that, its supposed geographic location, and a few other tidbits of information I found, I think it’s related somehow to the genus Galanthus.”
Luca grins, but replies, “You’re going to have to translate that one for me.”
“Snowdrops,” Parker clarifies. “Even if the Aetherbloom wasn’t a direct ancestor, they probably at least shared one.”
“Oh, that’s good to know,” Luca says, gesticulating with his spoon. His bowl’s empty. “That’ll help things on my end. All I know is that the Aetherbloom was supposed to be revelatory in some fashion. Accounts differ on what that means. Some say it lets you discern the truth from a lie, some say that it reveals the very nature of the universe.”
Parker, after finishing his own bowl, says, “That’s a pretty wide margin.”
“Right?” Luca rolls his eyes. “Would it have killed these ancient people to just write some stuff down straightforwardly?”
Parker leans back in his seat, crossing his arms casually. “If it’s as potent and dangerous as you say it might be, then they might have kept accounts vague on purpose as some kind of safety measure.”
Luca’s still holding his spoon in a manner reminiscent of a magic wand. “That would make an unfortunate deal of sense.” He finally sets his spoon down. “The good news is, snowdrops are pretty useful, so I keep some in the greenhouse. Which I guess makes sense, if they’re related to the Aetherbloom.”
“You have a greenhouse?”
Luca nods. “It’s not huge, so I don’t grow a lot in there, but I keep the most useful stuff on hand.”
“Wouldn’t that change seasonally, though?”
“You would think so, but I developed a fertilizer that allows plants to always grow as if it’s their season.”
Parker blinks a couple of times. “That’s incredible. How’d you manage that?”
“Oh, you know,” Luca says, leaning back himself, “A pinch of time, a smidge of belonging, and a little zhuzh of bamboo to hasten the growth along. Among other things.”
Whereas Luca leaned back, Parker leans in. “Did you say ‘time’? Like the concept?”
Luca nods. “I’m good at what I do.” When Parker doesn’t know how to respond, Luca flashes another charming grin. “Speaking of, I think I’m making progress on the potion side of things. I’ll need a little more time, though, just to make sure I’m getting all of my measurements right.”
“Oh, of course,” Parker quickly says. “I mean, it’s only been a week. And I still need to make doubly sure about the snowdrops.”
“I,” Luca then says, “am intrigued about how you discovered these seeds in the first place. Any chance you want to tell me about it over a cup of tea?”
Parker’s eyes light up; he’s very clearly the sort of person who will excitedly talk about his work ad nauseam when given the go-ahead. “I’d love to.”
Luca’s own eyes twinkle softly. “I’ll go put the kettle on.”
***‘I had a breakthrough last night. The potion is ready. Come as soon as you can. (Don’t put off anything important for it, it’s not time-sensitive, I’m just impatient. It’s a personal flaw that I’m not working on.)
-Luca’
Parker, the letter tucked safely in the bag at his side along with the seeds, knocks on the alchemist’s door. It’s barely been an hour since the messenger pigeon delivered said letter earlier in the morning, but since their dinner a week ago, Parker’s been obsessing over the possibility of bringing the bloom back to life. The second he was told there was a chance, he had to come running. He briefly wonders if that’s the only reason he came running the moment Luca came calling, but he puts that thought out of his mind.
Even though the sign on the outside of the door says ‘closed for business,’ Luca’s voice from within calls, “It’s open!” Parker wipes his feet and pushes open the door, emerging into the alchemist’s workshop. Luca, standing at his cauldron, looks back at Parker. And there’s that grin that Parker’s come to expect. “How are you today?”
“Excited,” Parker says unashamedly, stepping forward to peer into the cauldron. Inside is a liquid that’s swirling green and blue. “This is it?”
“This is it,” Luca confirms. “I stumbled across some surprisingly edifying texts in the archives last night. This, I believe, should roughly approximate the magical properties associated with the Aetherbloom. Combined with the snowdrops, this should reawaken the seeds by reminding them of what they were. There’s just one thing missing.”
Parker finally tears his eyes away from the alchemical concoction to meet Luca’s gaze. “Is it something I can help with?”
“Yes and no. I need you here for it, but I don’t need anything from you.” When Parker looks confused, Luca elaborates: “Let me explain. I need a source of honesty, but that’s pretty hard to bottle, so I don’t really keep any on hand. It needs to be obtained in-the-moment.” Luca then clears his throat and straightens both his posture and his hat. “To that end, I’m going to say something to you, and you’re going to politely pretend that I didn’t, and we’ll move on.”
Parker shoves his hands in his pockets again, his brow furrowing in concern. “Is… Is everything okay?” He asks, his nerves getting the better of him.
“Of course, of course.” Luca clears his throat again, then says, “I just need to be honest and tell you that I find myself quite taken with you.”
Before Parker can even really comprehend what he’s just heard, let alone respond, Luca’s hand shoots out into the air, closing around something that Parker can’t see. The alchemist produces an empty vial from his belt of them, then holds it beneath his hand. He opens his fingers slightly, and the honesty pours from them as a shimmering purple liquid. He then procures an eyedropper to pull out a single drop of the honesty, which he adds to the cauldron, which puffs with pink steam. Parker’s held enrapt by the process, but not so enrapt that he doesn’t notice Luca’s lack of eye contact.
“There we have it,” the pine marten says as if nothing’s just happened. “The seeds?”
Parker’s hands are shaking as he fumbles in his bag for them, but he eventually holds up the vial. Luca takes it, uncorks it, and tips in the seeds, the little black things floating in the simmering potion below. “We’ll just let those sit a minute,” Luca says, staring into the cauldron with rapt attention. Parker, still silent, nods. After the prescribed minute, Luca uses a fine-mesh strainer to fish them out, then he turns to Parker and grins. “To the greenhouse?”
The badger nods. “Lead the- the way.”
Luca guides Parker through the cottage to the back door, ducking as he exits the house so he doesn’t knock his hat off. In the clearing in the woods that forms Luca’s backyard is the greenhouse, a modestly-sized thing that’s full of greenery and color, even from the outside. They step inside, and Parker immediately begins mentally cataloguing all the various plants and flowers Luca has growing. Indeed, most of them aren’t in season, but they’re all blooming regardless.
Luca walks up to a small plot that’s either been empty, or was emptied just for this task, and he picks up a trowel, which he hands to Parker. Parker takes it wordlessly and begins making small holes in a neatly-aligned grid shape. He deposits one seed into each hole, then covers them back up with the displaced dirt. Luca procures a watering can, and Parker trades him for the trowel. One healthy splash of water later, Luca and Parker are left staring down at the dirt.
“As much as I’d love for something to happen right away,” Luca comments, taking the watering can and setting it in its designated place, “my understanding is that it could take a few days before we know if anything’s happened.”
Parker nods as he dusts off his hands, getting rid of some of the dirt on his fingertips. “Yeah. Unfortunately, botany is not a fast science.”
“How often should I water them?”
“For now? Once a day should be fine, about as much as I did just now. And you’ll, um, let me know when something sprouts?”
Luca’s smile is a little softer than Parker has come to expect. “Of course. I appreciate the hopefulness of the phrase ‘when’ they sprout, and not ‘if’ they sprout.”
Parker looks down, a little sheepish. “You’re right. This is the find of the century if I’m right, so I might be getting ahead of myself a bit.”
“It’s okay to be excited,” Luca gently reminds him. “Besides. I have faith in us. When they sprout, I’ll send you a note.”
Parker finally brings himself to meet Luca’s gaze. He hasn’t done that since back at the cauldron. With a cautious smile of his own, he nods.
***The sign on Luca’s door says ‘open for business,’ but Parker still knocks anyway. It seems no matter how many times he knocks excitedly on Luca’s door, he doesn’t get used to it. He can’t help the excitement, though, not when there’s a letter tucked in his bag declaring that the seeds have sprouted.
Luca opens the door, and his bright smile is back. “You came quickly,” he notes as Parker wipes his feet and enters the cottage.
“How could I not? Can I see them?”
Luca’s hat bobs as he nods. “Of course. I’ve got to tend shop, but the greenhouse is unlocked. Feel free to head on back.”
“Thanks.” Parker wastes no time in heading out the back door and across the small yard to the greenhouse. Inside, he finds the promised sprouts. He also finds why Luca’s letter told him to bring some pigments along if he planned on making any sketches: They’re glowing bright blue.
Parker’s grin is bordering on giddy as he pulls out his sketchbook, and he actually has to take a minute to calm himself in order to get his hands still enough to begin his drawings. He leans in as close as he can, peering at each sprout in turn. He’s not content just to draw them; no, he starts cataloguing every single characteristic in almost excruciating detail. He takes measurements, makes observations, calculates angles, and even scores every single leaf’s coloration on a verdancy scale of his own devising. He’s so excited that he forgets to jump in alarm when the greenhouse door is opened and Luca steps in. Parker, still knelt in front of the Aetherbloom plot, looks to the alchemist, his face lighting up. “You did it,” he manages to say.
“We did it,” Luca gently corrects while bearing a similar grin. “Come on,” he then says with a little nod towards the house. “I’m closed for lunch. I’ve made you a sandwich.”
Parker, rising fully, blinks a couple of times in surprise. “I’ve only just got here.”
“Parker,” Luca gently corrects, “you’ve been scribbling in various notebooks out here for three hours now.”
Parker reaches up to scratch at an ear. “Oops,” he decides on.
Luca rolls his eyes. “Come on. Lunch is ready.”
“You didn’t have to feed me,” Parker tells the pine marten as they walk to the cottage.
“I know, but I wanted to feed you.”
Parker finds the sandwich waiting for him on the table, but he helps himself to a seat and pulls out his notebooks first, spreading them out on the table. Only once he can read over his notes while eating does he pick up the sandwich and take a bite.
“Oh, gods,” he surprises himself by saying, forgetting himself and speaking with his mouth full. He manages to chew and swallow before saying, “This is incredible. What is it?”
Luca, sitting across from Parker, finishes his own bite before replying, “What you’re probably picking up on is the herbed butter. My own recipe.”
“It’s incredible.”
Luca offers a cheeky wink, then lifts his chin, peering over at all the papers surrounding the botanist. “So, how’s the note-taking going? Learn anything valuable?”
“Everything’s valuable,” the badger replies. “But, I mean, they’re glowing. If that’s not indicative that we’ve got Aetherbloom on our hands, I don’t know what is. Do you mind if I come back later tonight to measure their brightness?”
“Not at all. The greenhouse is always unlocked, so you can let yourself back there any time.”
“Thank you,” Parker says. “I really mean it. I owe you. A lot.”
“You owe me nothing,” Luca corrects in a tone bordering on stern, but one which doesn’t lose its touch of playfulness despite that. “We’re in this together.”
“I’m…” Parker looks down at his sketches and notes, though not to go over them. Just to buy himself a little time. “I’m glad you’re the one I’m in this with.”
Does Luca ever stop smiling? It seems like he’s always got a smile of some kind, it just changes tones every now and then. Right now, it’s soft and warm. “Me too, Parker.”
“Luca?”
“Hm?”
“The- the- um.” Parker swallows. “The other day. At the cauldron. What you told me. Do I-... Do I have to pretend you didn’t say anything?”
For a second, Luca seems so surprised that he forgets to smile. That doesn’t last long, though. “Not if you don’t want to,” he answers smoothly.
“I think… I think I’d quite like it if I got to act on that information.” Without another word, he extends his hand across the table.
Without another word, Luca takes it.
***Parker comes over every day for the next week to catalogue the Aetherblooms’ growth. Even when he tries to avoid mealtimes so as not to take advantage of Luca’s hospitality, he can never seem to get out of the alchemist’s home without at least a cup of tea in him.
“It’s remarkable,” Parker notes between sips as he studies his notes, once again laid out on the table in front of him.
Luca, sitting next to him with his own cup, replies, “Do tell.”
“Well, the life cycle on these things are just… it’s incredible. Snowdrops can take years to sprout from seeds, and these popped up in a few days. And one week on, we already have flowers.” He starts flipping through pages, comparing daily sketches as a way to watch the Aetherbloom grow in real-time. The final picture contains the flowers, which are new as of this afternoon. They’re purple in shade, but like the rest of the plant, the light they give off is a bright blue. “At this rate,” the botanist continues, “We’ll have more seeds in just a few days.”
“Ooh, exciting,” Luca says. More seeds means more plants. More plants means he gets to do some alchemy.
Parker, knowing this is Luca’s particular path of logic, looks up and cautions, “Promise me you’ll be careful. We don’t know what these things can do.”
“Cross my heart.” Luca makes a show of doing it literally with his non-tea-holding hand. Parker still wears a concerned expression, but Luca rests a hand on the other man’s knee, squeezing gently. “You don’t have to worry. I’m good at what I do, and I still have all my fingers. I’ve never even lost an eyebrow. I know you have a general proclivity towards anxiety, but I need you to put that aside and trust me.”
Parker takes a deep breath and a steadying sip of tea. “I’ll try. I just worry.”
“I know. I also know that you’re thinking that if something happens, it’ll be your fault somehow. Put that thought out of your mind too.”
“I am the one who brought the seeds.”
“And I am a grown man capable of making all his own decisions. Nothing bad is going to happen, and even if it does, it won’t be your fault. Okay?”
Parker rests his hand atop Luca’s, which is still on the former’s knee. “Okay.”
***After a few days come seeds. A few days after the seeds come more plants. The cycle repeats again, and again, until Luca’s greenhouse is almost entirely dominated with Aetherbloom and glows with a brilliant blue splendor. Finally, he and Parker agree that there are enough for the alchemist to start working his craft with them.
Parker continues to come by to check on the plants daily, even while Luca’s working on figuring out their properties and how best to harness them. The more of the blooms there are, the more beautiful they all seem to be in their vivid colors and shimmering glow. When asked how he’s progressing, though, the alchemist always plays coy, replying, “You’ll see,” with a sly little grin.
One day, roughly two months after first crossing Luca’s doorstep, Parker steps into the alchemist’s cottage. He’s finally gotten over his need to knock even when the sign declares that the alchemist’s shop is open.
Inside, he finds Luca standing in front of his cauldron, which, curiously, is only barely simmering, the flames below it closer to mere embers. Parker steps up beside him, peering into the cauldron. The liquid inside is purple, glowing brightly blue.
“How’s it going?” The botanist inquires.
“It’s done,” is Luca’s response.
Parker blinks in surprise, scrutinizing the other man’s gaze to see if he means it in jest. His expression is totally serious. Happy, but serious. As Parker watches, Luca pulls an empty vial from his belt and an eyedropper from his pocket. “It’s… It’s done?”
“It’s done,” Luca repeats as he pulls some of the potion into the eyedropper, which he then injects into the vial.
“What’s it, um, do?” Parker asks nervously as the vial of purple liquid is thrust towards him. He takes it, but he doesn’t drink. Not yet.
Luca adjusts his hat proudly. “It offers the truth.”
“About what?”
“Anything. You take a drink, you ask a question, and you get an answer. About anything,” he then repeats. “The answer to all the secrets of the universe are right here, in this pot. Go on.” Luca waves his hand at the vial, in a general upward motion, like he’s trying to guide it to Parker’s mouth via telekinesis. “Give it a go. Ask anything you like.”
Parker’s hand is shaking, and he closes his eyes, thinking. Finally, he lifts the potion to his lips and tosses it back. He pulls a face at the bitter taste that hits his tongue, but after a second, he opens his eyes. They meet Luca’s. Without a second of hesitation, the botanist moves in, their faces coming together, their lips locking. Luca’s briefly tense with surprise, but he very quickly relaxes into the sensation. The kiss breaks, the two mens’ foreheads now touching, their hands coming together, fingers intertwining.
“Did you really,” Luca asks quietly, “just use a chance at universal wisdom to ask if I wanted a kiss?”
“I might have done,” is Parker’s sheepish confession. “There will always be more Aetherbloom; we’ve seen to that. But every day I go without kissing you is something I can’t get back.”
Luca chuckles, his grip tightening around Parker’s. “I knew I’d make a romantic out of you yet. Next time, you don’t need Aetherbloom, though. You can just ask.”
“In that case: May I do it again?”
“In this case: You may.”
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 168.1 kB
Comments