CHapter 1: An Alchemist’s Elixir

Chapter 1: An Alchemist’s Elixir

Nicoletta’s mother was a world-class alchemist. Nicoletta’s father was a world-class hunter of ingredients. Together, they were regarded as the most powerful pair of alchemists in the ruling north. And, under service of the queen, Lady Chrissa, they had somehow managed to uphold peace in the nation for the last three decades. Just as their reputation suggested, they were quite powerful; nobody in their right mind would dare challenge her parents, or at least that was what Nicoletta thought. 
Now, Nicoletta on the other hand? Bah, what a disappointment, her cousin would say, that she wasn’t very much of an alchemist. She was very much unlike her parents. Nearly opposite, in fact. Where had those powers gone that should have been her birthright? Where was her uncanny ability to find rare ingredients? Her talents lie only in making a fool of herself, her cousin would spout. But, that wasn’t entirely true… At least, that’s what Nicoletta told herself. True, her potions didn’t quite evoke the wonders found glistening in the eyes of others for her mother’s potions, but her potions were still very much useful as they were; they did as they were made to do, and that was all an alchemist could ask for... Wasn’t it?
But of course, it was a big deal for any proper alchemist to be able to brew a perfect potion. Her cousin could be right; if she were worth any grain of salt, she wouldn’t have lost every competition in the Brewing Festival every year for the past eight years, in all eight categories. So she had lost sixty-four competitions in total, which was a grand feat on its own since nobody ever attempted to enter into every competition every year; most aspiring alchemists focused on one or maybe two categories, which they tried to specialize in, but Nicoletta entered in them all because she had thought it was far better to try everything, just in case. But, that hadn’t worked, and not only had she not won in the last eight years, she had not won spectacularly. So much so that everyone in the ruling north was afraid of coming near when her brew was a-brewing… She could at least say that she was almost as famous as her parents in that regard. Or rather, infamous. But it wasn’t her fault if a potion decided to blow up willy-nilly all on its own. 
          Of course, her past failures didn't matter; she would just win this year. She had to since it was her last try and all. Her mother would be so disappointed if she failed for a final time, unable to take a seat beside her in the Queen’s Circle, unable to join the highest order of alchemists under her queenship herself. The thought almost made her sigh… No, not almost, she thought, and let out a sigh.
The ruling north—as people liked to call Szoleria—was the main capital of the northern nation and was home to both her family and the largest gathering of alchemists in the world. It was where the northern monarch, Lady Chrissa, resided along with her king consort, Lord Pritchard. And, if he were still alive today, as Nicoletta liked to believe he was, their son, Prince Azrelius, would have resided here, too. But since he had been missing for the last eighteen years, the people of the north believed he had been kidnapped and killed all those many years ago. Perhaps by a rival nation, or from a jilted beggar; nobody knew, which was what struck her as strange. She believed he was still alive because of just that, nobody had come forward about killing the prince, and people always wanted the attention, the glory of having accomplished so great a feat, so why hadn't they?
Well, at least his missing princliness didn’t stop the Brewing Festival from happening. It was all young alchemists looked forward to every year; children dreamed of one day participating in the event so that they, too, could be a part of the Circle and gain recognition as a true alchemist. That was Nicoletta’s plan as well, to make her parents proud, as people liked to say. But it was more to make herself proud and prove to her cousin that she wasn’t worthless. At least, not completely worthless…
So, she would just have to win. If she didn’t, she didn’t know what she would do with the rest of her life. True, she could try getting into the Queen’s Circle some other way, but that was near impossible outside of the competition these days. The only person currently in the Circle who hadn't gone through the competition was Merlin’s niece, Merlina, and she had joined nearly forty years ago. Never mind that their family had magic running through their veins like water, Merlin having been a very powerful wizard, after all. It was fair to say those exceptions didn’t really happen anymore. And if Nicoletta couldn’t join the Circle this year, she guessed she would have to try her hand at ingredient hunting like her father… But she dreaded the thought of sloshing around in the mud just to obtain a small piece of mudroot and couldn’t help letting out a groan.
“Nicoletta,” the reverberating voice of her mother called out to her from atop the stairs. Nicoletta turned her head towards the sound but saw nobody standing there so she turned back to look out the window she had been glued to for the past half hour. She had been staring at the people down below, people who lived very different lives, all gathered for the festival with their fancy clothes, their rare things, and unusual creatures. There were nobles from the west, royalty from the east, and traders from the south all laughing, smiling, bartering for things, and milling about in front of the ingredient stands. They brought with them rare and unusual things to trade for other rare and unusual things the people of the north had stocked in their stores for the travelers. Many alchemists and hunters often brought things to trade during the festival, and it was a good time to do so because of the challengers and their constant hunt for the best ingredients to brew into their potions. Fresh, rare things were hard to come by, after all, so it was better to wait until someone brought it for you from the outside instead of going out to find it yourself. “Nicoletta,” her mother called out again, sounding somewhat impatient. Nicoletta flinched and turned back around to the stairs. 
“I’m here, by the window,” she shouted, already guessing her mother was going to ask whether she had finished with her preparations.
“Are you done preparing your ingredients?”
“Yes, mother,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. “I have all the ingredients I need.” She turned back to the window and dropped her head into her palms with a short sigh. She wondered at the deja vu-ness of it all.
“Have you put them in the basket?”
“Yes, I’ve already put them in the basket,” she said.
“And the boiler, have you got that as well?”
“Yes, yes, it’s by the door with the ingredients inside it.”
There was a thumping from upstairs and then a figure appeared on the stairwell. Nicoletta peered at her mother from the corner of her eye; she was dressed in fine garments of white, gold, and green, the colors of the queen. It was very unfortunate that her mother was going to be a judge in today’s festival; she was a very harsh critic of what made a proper brew and was always criticizing the lack of refinery in Nicoletta's potions. But that was also what made her famous; her high regard of potions in turn made her good at making them, and she did not like people playing around with what she considered a high art like it was all just fun and games, not at all. 
“Good, yes, then we are ready to go,” her mother said with an approving nod. “Has your father dressed himself?” she asked, looking around for her father. 
“He left to go find Sherril,” said Nicoletta, waving a hand towards the door. “And Sherril ran off to find that fancy countess visiting from the east.”
“Ah, yes, she mentioned that,” her mother mumbled, nodding absently. “Alright, then, let us be off. They will be calling the contestants soon and you know they don’t take kindly to late contestants.”
“I know, I know.” Nicoletta stood up from her seat by the window and walked to the door to grab her things. “I was just waiting for you to finish.”
“Grab your things, then. The festival begins in five minutes and it will take us six minutes to get there, so we’ll just have to rush down and make it in three. Now, hop to it.” She waved her hands at Nicoletta and herded her out the door. 
“I’m going, I’m going,” she said, scurrying over to grab her things. Nicoletta hauled the boiling pot, the ingredients basket, and her mixing and cutting tools into her arms before she pushed the front door open with her shoulder. Her mother followed close behind and shoved the door shut tightly behind them. Then she brought out a small vial of glistening purple liquid from the sleeve of her robe, popped the stopper off, and then generously sprinkled the liquid around the worn wooden door frame. Protective magic, most likely, thought Nicoletta. Or maybe something to ward off ghosts and her mother’s admirers. 
Finished with her chore, her mother pocketed the now empty vial and they hurried down the cobbled road towards the city's center. It was a steep slope down and Nicoletta never got tired of looking at the city angling downward from where her home sat near the top. The city could be likened to the shape of an ice cream cone; it curved down towards the center like someone had pushed a finger into it. Even the cobbles layering the ground at the city's center looked like a thumbprint, which was why it was aptly named Giant's Thumb. 
Lady Chrissa’s castle sat just on the edge of Giant's Thumb, shining bright white and gloriously pointy. Sometimes, during the right time of day, the castle could be caught waving it's pointy head at something beyond the city borders. Nicoletta had only seen it happen twice and it looked a lot like a dancing cactus, if you asked her, but she supposed there was some purpose to the ridiculous routine. It was part of the enchantment, her mother had told her, to ward off dragons and things. But Nicoletta knew better; dragons hadn’t been seen in ages and were very much a creature of legend. So that meant that the castle was doing something else waving around like that. She just didn’t know what that was. Not yet, anyway. It was also very shy; if Nicoletta stared at it directly when she noticed the shiver and shake about to take place, it would stop its motion immediately like it had been caught doing something very naughty, which was why she had only seen it twice, and once at night. It hadn't noticed her staring in the dark, after all, but it was all very suspicious. 
They hurried down and was in the arms of the festival within minutes. Nicoletta was sweating a lot more than her mother but she figured it was due to the difference in stride; her mother was a head taller, after all. But despite the overexertion, they had made it, and she didn't even grumble  when she saw old Mr. Bilby Bellows standing by the floating wooden stage waiting for them with a pocket watch in hand. “Almost late, Ms. Nicoletta Flamel,” he said to her with a shake of his gray-bearded head. Nicoletta frowned and was about to say something when she noticed his hat hadn't moved despite the moving head, not turning at all even though his head turned this way and that. A useless enchantment, she thought, to make a hat do nothing at all, quite literally! 
“But we are on time,” said her mother. “And there is your place, Nicoletta. Go drop off your things and get ready. It’s going to be starting in a minute.”
“Okay,” she said, and shuffled off to her place in front of the floating stage. There were a number of small floating platforms around the large stage, like a ring around a rose and spinning ever so slightly in a circle. Nicoletta walked up to a floating platform and carefully hopped onto a small set of stairs attached to the wooden island before making her way up and setting her stuff down. She was used to the scene around her; when the competition began, all the platforms would lift into the sky and stop at the center of a floating arena full of people cheering for the competitors. She didn’t understand why there was so much cheering, but she supposed it was because of all the fantastical explosions they saw each year. 
“Will you be winning this year, Ms. Flamel?” Mr. Bellows bellowed from below. Nicoletta peered over the edge of her small platform and looked at him. Mr. Bellows’ family had been the host of every competition each year since its conception simply because of their strange familial gift of being able to throw their voices into the air. They could also make things sound louder than they actually were. But every time she saw him, she wondered if his family name had come before they had discovered their gift of bellowing loudly or if it had come after the fact. She had asked once but they hadn’t known either, which was a shame.
“Yes,” she shouted down. “I have no doubt I’ll win this year.”
“The perfect attitude to have,” he said, nodding approvingly. He stared up at her over the rim of his crescent moon glasses--something she saw no point in him wearing at all--and smiled knowingly, stroking his long, pointed beard. “I have a feeling you will have great things to show us today, young Ms. Flamel. Growth comes after an immense amount of pain, after all,” he said, “and you’ve already grown used to the bitter taste of failure. A very good ingredient, indeed, for success.”
“You’re making fun of my potions, aren’t you?” she said with a harumph. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her nose away. “People always complain about how bitter it is or how painful it is to drink.”
Mr. Bellows laughed, loud and bellowing. “Yes, indeed,” he said, patting his belly in good humor. “I am truly looking forward to your potion brewing this year. What strange potion will you concoct next? Ah, but the very best of luck to you, Ms. Flamel. I must be off.” And then he shuffled away just as festival-goers starting shooting small lightning roots they had found buried underneath a tree that had once been struck by lightning off into the sky to watch them explode into a million firesparks. The festival was underway, the competition was starting, and Nicoletta was ready for what the rest of the day would bring.
The one thing she was absolutely certain of this year was that she was going to win.