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[img]https://i.imgur.com/7GRzd6B.png[/img]
[h1][color=D2691E]Farim[/color][/h1]
[color=D2691E][b]Location:[/b] The Slums of Genesea[/color]
[color=D2691E][b]Time:[/b] 4th of Ventu 1729[/color]

[h2][color=red]Flashback! Part 4[/color][/h2]

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The darkness of the backroom was stifling–as if the room tried to swallow all the light within it. Farim and Malik sat on their knees in front of the coveted leather tome, currently sat shut and on the floor. The owner looked at the scene with worry and a hint of regret before quickly spitting out a warning. 

“I will watch the front. We CANNOT be caught, you understand. This would be bad for all of us…so if you hear me greet someone close and hide the book and act like you are helping me sort inventory.”

The boys nodded, and the man slowly pulled the curtain over the door leading to the back. What little light bled into the room was even more stifled. All that the boys could use to read the book were the light of some nearby lit candles. And read they did.

The book itself had no title, it had no author, but whoever did write had much to tell on the matter of a certain type of magic–Alchemy. [color=D2691E]”A forbidden art within a forbidden practice. This is the kind of secret this man has been hiding from us.”[/color] Farim smirked.

Malik returned the sentence with a look of concern. [color=teal]”I think he is just hiding it from everyone. This kind of thing would be dangerous in the hands of the wrong person.”[/color]

Farim waved his hand dismissively. [color=D2691E]”But we aren’t those kinds of people! We can use this for good! Maybe finally get your family into a better place so we can hang out more!”[/color] Farim’s excitement was endearing, but Malik could not help but feel a pit in his stomach over the thought of these illegally gotten gains.

They both darted their eyes over every inch of every page. There were recounts of powerful alchemical feats, the history of the practice of alchemy, beginner recipes, and even a powerful recipe towards the back for something labeled a “Philosopher’s Stone”-- something that would take the burden from the caster and place it onto an inanimate object instead. Before they finished reading Farim’s eyes beamed with ideas.

[color=D2691E]”This is it! If we make you this, you could make gold and gems to sell and your family won’t be so poor!”[/color] Farim spoke so candidly about Malik’s poverty that it almost stung, but Malik could not deny the fact that eating stale bread and week old hummus was not something he could stomach the rest of his life.

So they followed the instructions as quickly as they could. They did not know if the owner truly meant “5 minutes” or “what felt like 5 minutes”. The necessary reagents for the spell itself were rather small, just requiring chalk to draw some symbols and to have two participants recite a long incantation uninterrupted. They gave the book a hasty look over one last time, making sure the prerequisites were done.

As they began, Malik showed once more a sign of doubt on his face. [color=teal]”Farim, we’ve barely read this spell over and you want to cast it? Maybe we can try another day…”[/color] But Farim shook his head. [color=D2691E]”Who knows if we will get another chance. The old man could be back any minute!”[/color]

Farim cleared his throat and began speaking the spell’s required verse.

[color=D2691E]”“Sanguis animae, pretium potentiae.
Lumen in lapidem, vita in vinculum.
Aeternum ferrum, servitium aeternum.
Philosophorum, surge.”[/color]

As the word “surge” left his lips, the room began to thrum with ancient energies. As if they woke up a beast asleep for hundreds of years–and it was hungry. The book surged with light that almost blinded the two boys, Farim shielded his eyes quickly. Malik on the other hand, seemed almost entranced, as if the light beckoned him in. A moment later, the old man sprinted from behind the curtain. 

[h2]“NO!”[/h2]

He sprinted as fast as his old body could carry him, tackling Malik away from the ritual circle. But just before an impact was made, a concussive shockwave pulsed from Malik. It sent Farim and the owner flying to the edges of the room–a sound echoing as if a thunderbolt had gone off. In just that brief moment, something had happened that would change the trajectory of Farim’s life forever.
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