The Shadows over the Alchemist
The night in Needle-Stone had its own flavor. In the upper districts, near the great forges and the Agency Hall, it smelled of coal, metal, and the power of money. But as one descended into the winding alleys and plunged into the lower districts, the air changed. It grew thick with the scent of poorly channeled sewage, of cheap food frying in old grease, and of a damp desperation that seemed to emanate from the very walls of the rotting wooden tenements.
It was in this labyrinth of shadows and misery that Mia and Lia moved. For the two Blades of the Hashshashin, this was their first real intelligence mission, and they embraced it with a fierce concentration. Gliding over the sloped, unstable rooftops, they were ghosts, their new dark leather gear merging with the darkness. The city below was a map of dangers and opportunities.
"Target in sight," Mia's voice was a whisper in the bond she shared with her sister, a communication faster and more secure than any spoken word. They were lying prone on the roof of a small bakery, observing a narrow alley across the way.
The target was a small shop squeezed between a pawnshop and a dyer's that spewed a sickly colored steam. The wooden sign, worn by rain and time, read simply: "Elian - Potions and Elixirs." The shop was dark, the only light coming from a small glass alembic that bubbled slowly in one of the windows.
The door opened and a man stepped out. It was Elian. He looked older than the thirty-something years the Agency records gave him. He had long brown hair tied back in a sloppy ponytail, and thin-rimmed glasses that constantly slid down his nose. His alchemist's robes, once perhaps of good quality, were stained from years of chemicals and neglect. There was an aura of deep fatigue about him, the posture of a brilliant man who had been crushed by the weight of the world.
He glanced up and down the alley, a quick, nervous movement, before heading back inside.
For hours, they watched. Elian's clientele was a parade of Needle-Stone's misery. Mothers buying a cheap cough remedy for their children, miners with chapped hands looking for a pain-relieving salve, Iron-Rank adventurers buying the cheapest of healing potions. Elian was patient with them all, his voice calm, his expertise evident even when mixing the simplest of ingredients. At one point, a small street urchin tried to steal an apple from his small herb stall. Instead of yelling, Elian simply gave her the apple and a small vial. "For your mother's cough," he said, before gently shooing her away.
The real danger arrived as night fell. Three burly men, dressed in battered leather and carrying the air of those who live by intimidating the weak, entered the alley. They didn't walk; they took possession of the space. They were the loan sharks, the hunting dogs of the underworld's creditors.
The twins stiffened at their observation posts.
The men entered Elian's shop unceremoniously. There were no shouts. Just the sound of shattering glass, the dull thud of a body being thrown against a wooden shelf, and the cruel voice of the leader, loud and clear in the quiet night.
"Time's up, alchemist. Where's our money?"
"I... I need one more week," Elian's voice was weak, filled with pain. "Sales... have been slow."
"Not our problem," the leader said. The sound of shelves being overturned followed, Elian's work being destroyed. "This is your last warning. One week. Or else, we won't take your money. We'll take your hands. An alchemist with no hands doesn't owe us anything, right?"
The threat was cruel and specific. For an alchemist, his hands were everything. It was a professional death sentence.
Mia felt a wave of fury rise in her chest. Her hand instinctively went to the hilt of her new Architect's Alloy scimitar. There were three of them. She and Lia could handle them. They were just thugs. Protecting a future guild asset seemed like the logical thing to do.
The moment her muscles tensed to leap, she felt a cold pressure in her mind.
It was Lia's voice, but with Kael's authority.
Mia gritted her teeth, her fury warring with the cold logic her sister presented. Lia was right. It was the lesson Kael had taught them. Rage was a tool, not the master. With a visible effort, she relaxed her hand on her weapon, her body trembling with contained energy.
The loan sharks left the shop, laughing, taking Elian's small coin box with them. Moments later, the alchemist staggered out. He looked at his destroyed shop, and his posture, previously just tired, was now that of a completely broken man. He didn't cry. He just stood there, under the faint light of his own broken lantern, the personification of despair.
The twins retreated into the shadows of the rooftops, their observation mission complete. They had all the information Kael needed.
Back at the HQ, they delivered their report. Kael listened in silence, his face a mask of neutrality as he processed every detail. Elian's kindness, his expertise, his debt, and the imminent threat to his hands.
He turned to his guild charter on the wall. The box labeled "Alchemy Division" was empty. And now, it had an expiration date.
Asset Analysis: [Alchemist Elian]
* • Current Status: Compromised. Imminent physical threat (loan sharks).
* • Window of Opportunity for Recruitment: Reduced to seven days.
* • Psychological Factor: Direct threat to his 'tools' (hands) exponentially increases his desperation level, making him more receptive to an unconventional offer and a long-term loyalty contract.
* • Revised Action Plan:
* • Phase 1: Continuous Surveillance (The Blades). Monitor the loan sharks.
* • Phase 2: Offer Preparation (Ren/Marcus). Liquidate some minor assets to have capital available to pay off Elian's debt in one lump sum.
* • Phase 3: The Approach. Prepare an affiliation contract that offers debt settlement and protection in exchange for exclusivity and loyalty to the Hashshashin.
* • Phase 4 (Contingency): Prepare the Vanguard for direct intervention against the loan sharks on the seventh day if negotiations fail. The acquisition of this asset is now a critical priority.
He looked at his Inner Circle. "Ren, find out the exact value of Elian's debt. Marcus, prepare the funds. Mia, Lia, I want you to know every step those loan sharks take."
He turned and looked at the map of Needle-Stone. The cold war against the Golden Compass was his strategic priority. But the city had its own predators. And Kael would not allow a pack of street dogs to devour an asset he already considered his own. The acquisition of his alchemist had just become a much more delicate and dangerous operation.