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Sep. 19th, 2007 10:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gone_byebyeSenji’s office was on the third floor, a fact that surprised Ray a little, given the man’s clubfoot. The alchemist didn’t seem to mind, though, spending more time pointing out dents in the walls and particularly bright or dim students as they made their way up the stairs. Once they reached his office, Senji indicated a dark, patchy leather chair that wouldn’t’ve been out of place at the Firehouse. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said. “You do realize I’m going to have to question you first.”
“Senji, if the stuff you’ve got makes my head stop throbbing, I’d answer questioning by the ghost of Torak himself to get it,” said Ray as he sat down.
“Torak’s a myth,” said the alchemist, his voice a little muffled as he dug through an array of pots and bottles on a nearby table. “Something the Angaraks dreamed up to keep the rest of Mallorea in line. Where are you from, anyway?”
Ray blinked a few times at that, but decided it wasn’t worth it to argue just yet. “I don’t know that you’d believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.” Senji turned around with a tankard in one hand and a scoop of grayish powder in the other. “That is, unless you like having your head feel like the day after three nights of drinking.”
“Ugh. No, thank you,” Ray said. His thoughts were racing, insofar as they could race in between random interjections of ow! from the back of his skull. It probably wasn’t the best idea in the world to start talking about other worlds just yet, was it? Maybe later, but right now- “Would you believe Riva? I’ve been working at the Citadel, trying to come up with something better than charcoal and wood in the way of fuel.”
One of Senji’s eyebrows rose. “Riva?” he said skeptically. “And you’re here?”
“I don’t know how it happened, Senji, and that’s the truth,” Ray said. “I was demonstrating my defensive sword forms in front of one of the local masters, and I slipped and fell on my ass, and I hit my head on the ground. When I opened my eyes, I was here.”
Senji’s eyes narrowed at that. As he dumped the powder into the tankard he said, “Sorceror, huh?”
“Garion says I am.” Ray winced. “Not that I can actually use the Will and the Word, but he seems to think my ability to get things done when I’m up to my eyeballs in scientific study counts.”
“Hmph.” Senji stumped over to a cask in a corner of the office. “Well, I’ve heard stranger- I’ve done stranger. On the other hand, you’re a little bit short in the sword department for a man who was supposedly practicing with one when you got here. Did you leave it on the other side of the world?”
“No, it’s right here.” Ray held up the lightsaber handle. He only hesitated a moment before thumbing the switch. The look on the alchemist’s face at the snap-hiss and the green light filling that part of the room was gratifying. “I’ve just rigged it up so that the blade vanishes if I let go or drop it. I’d rather not cut off my own legs.”
“That alone gives you more good sense than ninety per cent of my students,” Senji muttered. “How do you do that? Make that-“ He waved a hand at the glowing blade. “Make that happen, I mean?”
“Can I have the headache stuff first?”
“Oh- all right.” Senji tapped off some of the water in the cask and mixed it into the powder, then handed the tankard over. “You know, I’ve heard about Alorns before. From the way the Angaraks talk, you’d think you all had less brains than a Murgo and an unquenchable thirst for blood.”
“Some of us have better things to do with our time.” Ray drained the tankard in two gulps. “Oh, that’s much better. Wow.”
“You’re welcome,” said Senji. “Now, about that sword of yours-“
“Chemical reaction to produce a great deal of energy that’s channeled into a number of different types of metal and crystals,” Ray said. “The crystals focus the light tightly enough to produce the blade effect. It can cut through nearly anything except certain types of ore. This is the first one I managed to make that didn’t explode when I activated it.”
Senji laughed, a coarse but appreciative sound. “You’ll have to show me how that works sometime.”
“Sorry. I don’t have the notes on me.”
“Really? Ah, well.” Senji shook his head. “That’s a shame. When you get back to Riva, I’d almost ask for you to send me a copy- but I don’t think Kondat would be too pleased to see anything in the post from an Alorn kingdom.”
“Kondat?” Ray asked, sitting up a little straighter (and switching the saber off).
“Emperor Kondat. I don’t expect you keep track of these things in Riva.”
Ray blinked. “I thought the emperor’s name was Zakath.”
Senji looked thoughtful. “I don’t remember hearing that name,” he said, “but I don’t usually pay that much attention to politics. Kondat was crowned three years ago. The Emperor before him might’ve been named Zakath, for all I know.”
Somehow, that was not the most reassuring thing in the world to hear. Ray reached up to feel at the spot on the back of his head again. “Senji?” he asked, a suspicion starting to gnaw at him. “What year was Kondat crowned?”
“5146. Why?”
Because Garion was born in 5355, Ray thought. Aloud he only said, “Sounds like my information’s pretty darn out of date, then.”
“Probably,” Senji said, finally pulling up a chair for himself. “If I can’t keep up with who’s on the throne after a few centuries living in this country, I can’t imagine anybody in Riva bothering to try.”
“Centuries?” said Ray, shifting a little in his seat. The burrito he’d had for lunch was starting to make its presence felt. “Alchemical longevity potions, or-“
“Not that I know of,” said Senji. “Although if you know how to make anything like that, it’d probably get you a lot of financing while you’re here. Maybe even enough to bribe your way back to the West.”
“I’ve never made a longevity potion, but I can do a lot of other things with the right chemicals,” Ray said. “Do you need an assistant?”
Senji looked Ray over, tapping one finger thoughtfully against his chin. Then he shrugged. “Why not?” he said. “I’ll have to see how you do in the lab, of course. If you blow yourself to pieces, it’s your own fault, you understand.”
“Of course,” Ray said. “I’ll do my best not to explode anything vital.”
“Good. I don’t think the Alorns would take it well if I sent you back there in a box.”
“No, probably not,” Ray agreed. “All right, then. I’ll show you what I can do. If it meets with your approval, I’d like to work here until I can come up with a plan and enough money to get me as far as Algaria. I can get the rest of the way on my own.”
Senji nodded. “It’s a deal,” he said, and held out a hand.
Ray grinned, and shook it. “Thank you,” he said. “You won’t regret it.”
“We’ll see,” said Senji, and then frowned. Sniffing the air, he said, “What’s that smell?”
“Uh. . .”
“. . . is that cinnamon?”
“Senji, if the stuff you’ve got makes my head stop throbbing, I’d answer questioning by the ghost of Torak himself to get it,” said Ray as he sat down.
“Torak’s a myth,” said the alchemist, his voice a little muffled as he dug through an array of pots and bottles on a nearby table. “Something the Angaraks dreamed up to keep the rest of Mallorea in line. Where are you from, anyway?”
Ray blinked a few times at that, but decided it wasn’t worth it to argue just yet. “I don’t know that you’d believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.” Senji turned around with a tankard in one hand and a scoop of grayish powder in the other. “That is, unless you like having your head feel like the day after three nights of drinking.”
“Ugh. No, thank you,” Ray said. His thoughts were racing, insofar as they could race in between random interjections of ow! from the back of his skull. It probably wasn’t the best idea in the world to start talking about other worlds just yet, was it? Maybe later, but right now- “Would you believe Riva? I’ve been working at the Citadel, trying to come up with something better than charcoal and wood in the way of fuel.”
One of Senji’s eyebrows rose. “Riva?” he said skeptically. “And you’re here?”
“I don’t know how it happened, Senji, and that’s the truth,” Ray said. “I was demonstrating my defensive sword forms in front of one of the local masters, and I slipped and fell on my ass, and I hit my head on the ground. When I opened my eyes, I was here.”
Senji’s eyes narrowed at that. As he dumped the powder into the tankard he said, “Sorceror, huh?”
“Garion says I am.” Ray winced. “Not that I can actually use the Will and the Word, but he seems to think my ability to get things done when I’m up to my eyeballs in scientific study counts.”
“Hmph.” Senji stumped over to a cask in a corner of the office. “Well, I’ve heard stranger- I’ve done stranger. On the other hand, you’re a little bit short in the sword department for a man who was supposedly practicing with one when you got here. Did you leave it on the other side of the world?”
“No, it’s right here.” Ray held up the lightsaber handle. He only hesitated a moment before thumbing the switch. The look on the alchemist’s face at the snap-hiss and the green light filling that part of the room was gratifying. “I’ve just rigged it up so that the blade vanishes if I let go or drop it. I’d rather not cut off my own legs.”
“That alone gives you more good sense than ninety per cent of my students,” Senji muttered. “How do you do that? Make that-“ He waved a hand at the glowing blade. “Make that happen, I mean?”
“Can I have the headache stuff first?”
“Oh- all right.” Senji tapped off some of the water in the cask and mixed it into the powder, then handed the tankard over. “You know, I’ve heard about Alorns before. From the way the Angaraks talk, you’d think you all had less brains than a Murgo and an unquenchable thirst for blood.”
“Some of us have better things to do with our time.” Ray drained the tankard in two gulps. “Oh, that’s much better. Wow.”
“You’re welcome,” said Senji. “Now, about that sword of yours-“
“Chemical reaction to produce a great deal of energy that’s channeled into a number of different types of metal and crystals,” Ray said. “The crystals focus the light tightly enough to produce the blade effect. It can cut through nearly anything except certain types of ore. This is the first one I managed to make that didn’t explode when I activated it.”
Senji laughed, a coarse but appreciative sound. “You’ll have to show me how that works sometime.”
“Sorry. I don’t have the notes on me.”
“Really? Ah, well.” Senji shook his head. “That’s a shame. When you get back to Riva, I’d almost ask for you to send me a copy- but I don’t think Kondat would be too pleased to see anything in the post from an Alorn kingdom.”
“Kondat?” Ray asked, sitting up a little straighter (and switching the saber off).
“Emperor Kondat. I don’t expect you keep track of these things in Riva.”
Ray blinked. “I thought the emperor’s name was Zakath.”
Senji looked thoughtful. “I don’t remember hearing that name,” he said, “but I don’t usually pay that much attention to politics. Kondat was crowned three years ago. The Emperor before him might’ve been named Zakath, for all I know.”
Somehow, that was not the most reassuring thing in the world to hear. Ray reached up to feel at the spot on the back of his head again. “Senji?” he asked, a suspicion starting to gnaw at him. “What year was Kondat crowned?”
“5146. Why?”
Because Garion was born in 5355, Ray thought. Aloud he only said, “Sounds like my information’s pretty darn out of date, then.”
“Probably,” Senji said, finally pulling up a chair for himself. “If I can’t keep up with who’s on the throne after a few centuries living in this country, I can’t imagine anybody in Riva bothering to try.”
“Centuries?” said Ray, shifting a little in his seat. The burrito he’d had for lunch was starting to make its presence felt. “Alchemical longevity potions, or-“
“Not that I know of,” said Senji. “Although if you know how to make anything like that, it’d probably get you a lot of financing while you’re here. Maybe even enough to bribe your way back to the West.”
“I’ve never made a longevity potion, but I can do a lot of other things with the right chemicals,” Ray said. “Do you need an assistant?”
Senji looked Ray over, tapping one finger thoughtfully against his chin. Then he shrugged. “Why not?” he said. “I’ll have to see how you do in the lab, of course. If you blow yourself to pieces, it’s your own fault, you understand.”
“Of course,” Ray said. “I’ll do my best not to explode anything vital.”
“Good. I don’t think the Alorns would take it well if I sent you back there in a box.”
“No, probably not,” Ray agreed. “All right, then. I’ll show you what I can do. If it meets with your approval, I’d like to work here until I can come up with a plan and enough money to get me as far as Algaria. I can get the rest of the way on my own.”
Senji nodded. “It’s a deal,” he said, and held out a hand.
Ray grinned, and shook it. “Thank you,” he said. “You won’t regret it.”
“We’ll see,” said Senji, and then frowned. Sniffing the air, he said, “What’s that smell?”
“Uh. . .”
“. . . is that cinnamon?”
