Finish the Story Contest - WEEK #19 | The Door of Truth

I Will Write No More

Prague, 22 September 1994

Dear silent friend,

once again I will force you to bear the tremulous handwriting of this pathetic old man.
Time has yellowed my fingers and your pages in equal measure. But I know you will not complain in finding yourself soiled by my memories once again, after such a long time, after the hiatus of decades of life, spent far away from the ancient leather of your cover. And I hope it did not bother you to try the tickling of my pen again. Not more than three spots of water and ten sheets before this, you still were curiously waiting for the hand of a fourteen-year-old, full of dreams and watercolours.

As I write, the mist rises from Moldova and lingers among the ancient gothic spires, guardians of forgotten secrets, while a pale September sun, as a master of alchemy, transmutes in gold water and heavens.
There is this little kestrel who, for a few days, has been picking on the attic's glass at dusk, while I perform my little preparatory rituals before everything happens like every night. The graceful winged evening’s maid urges me to once again cast my gaze on the hundred towers city, but these eyes will no longer be able to patiently stand on the surface of the mystery.

"I discovered a terrible law that links the green colour, the fifth chord and the heat. I lost the joy of living. Power scares me. I will write no more”. Such were your feelings, Gustavo and I still remember your trembling voice when you confided in me, the last time we met, before the great war swallowed everything and everyone, forcing us to interrupt our occultic studies. Only now that the layers of reality have finally crumbled before my eyes, like a sedimentary stone on the sides of a primordial river, I can grasp the true meaning of your words. The anxious joy of discovery, mixed with the ancestral vertigo of sidereal abysses, has overwhelmed me and continues to overwhelm me every night I leave.

And, just as in the layers of rock are the remains of creatures lost in time, even these levels of reality are not devoid of surprises .. and encounters. By now, I'm sure they saw me, but I cannot help but go back. Of all, I know that the faceless child already waits for me, every time closer, just beyond the threshold. He craves my warmth, my vibration and, this time, I do not know if I will manage to continue playing the game of deceiving him, while I persevere to the end. Certainly, I cannot draw back right now that my human life ends and, at the same time, I’m experimenting one, a hundred, a thousand lives.

Forgive me, dear diary, for having forced you to bear my poor ravings again. Perhaps, we’ll never meet again. The kestrel flew towards the old city. It's time to leave.

This is the first part of the Finist the Story Contest - Week 19 by @f3nix. If you are interested to join click on this link Finish the Story Contest - WEEK #19

Below is my continuation.

Source

To obtain something of equal value must be lost. That is Alchemy's First Law of Equivalent Exchange.

I draw the alchemic formula on the ground while remembering our youthful folly when we first embarked on this journey of knowledge.

We marveled at the idea of transforming something into another thing as dreams of untold riches and fame! The keys to the kingdom in our very hands!

An amalgamation of science and mysticism that breaks down the laws of what can be possible and what is not. The first law was driven deep into our hearts as you attempted to bring back to life that kestrel that you love.

A piece of you forever lost placed in the vessel of a kestrel and when I asked you about what you did you do not recall any fondness or memories of that kestrel.

You do remember a door with a faceless child in front of it. I remember jotting that down in these pages before now wrinkly with age.

Each experiment brought new success as we changed sand into stone, water into wine, lead into gold! Yet with each one we notice our memories slipping. Memories for knowledge it seems. The faceless child grins as always in our perephiral vision,

Power and riches and we vowed to stop the experiments for awhile as we lived like kings and enjoyed the fruits of our knowledge.

I remember reading a story about you my friend, how you amidst a plague in your city attempted to cure it. The story ends though with you a broken man, a shell of who you used to be. The newspaper tells it because you were powerless to stop it but I know better. Without you no one would have survived but each task took away something from you.

To obtain something of equal value must be lost. That is Alchemy's First Law of Equivalent Exchange.

In the twilight of my years I turn to these pages. Remembering our youthful folly. Placing all the memories that I still have. Compressing a lifetime of experiences and recollection into these pages.

I turn back to the vials and powders as I embark on creating the Philosopher's stone. A whole city will be lost as I finish this final alchemic formula. I have placed several similar signs in different points in the city and once I activate it may God or whoever have mercy on my soul.

I wonder if this kestrel is the same one that bears your soul my friend. Is this a way for you to stop me?

The lines begin to glow, I hear the screams of people outside and I see the faceless child walk towards me as I jot down this last entry.

Farewell...

Story and idea come from the Full Metal Alchemist Anime and Manga. It is one of my favorites and is a great introduction to the world of Anime and Manga if you are interested in starting somewhere.

It follows the story of the Elric Brothers in their journey in using alchemy to reach their goal. It has a good mix of comedy, action and is deep in some parts.