Prologue

Spain, 1493

The rain hammered down onto the dirt streets, forcefully snaking its way through every hidden nook and cranny. The firelight inside each thatched house had been blown out at the first sign of the storm, as wood needed to be preserved during the impending winter. Gloom settled as the rain only thrashed and whipped the night sky harder. The view of the town became obscured as the darkness finally set in.

A lone figure ran swiftly through a sheltered alleyway, his lithe footsteps making no sound.  Clutching a brown canvas parcel close to his chest, he wiped the droplets of rain off of his forehead with the coarse sleeve of his camicia before rapping his knuckles on the door in front of him.

"Grigori, sir, I have it." The apprentice barked as the thick wood swung open before him. A tall, lean man appeared on the other end holding a large broomstick.

Grigori looked the apprentice up and down his drenched body before opening the door even further to let him inside. The smaller man stepped out of the rain, placing the package insignia-side down on a table beside him.

"Ah, I see the High Altern received my letter." Grigori said. "Tell me, Johannes, what price did he set?"

Johannes hesitated. "60 reales, master."

"And you were able to meet this payment?" Grigori raised his eyebrows.

"I was. My own mother left a small sack of coin to my name when she passed." He replied, looking down at his thumbs.

"What other news have you, Johannes?" Grigori queried as he tampered with the strings on the parcel, his piercing green eyes watchful.

Johannes took a deep breath before answering. He knew that his master had waited a long time to hear news such as this.

"Master, there is a family residing in a town just east of here that are rumoured to be able to move objects with their mind and change objects into another. I have told them that you will wish to see them." He said.

"And you think that those powers can be used to change a skin of water into the Elixir?" Grigori inhaled sharply, leaving the parcel unopened on the table.

"I do." Johannes confirmed.

"Dios mío! We must leave, now! No time to waste," He clapped, scuttling around the poor excuse of a house to find what he needed. "And throw some clothes on, chico!"

"Master! We cannot leave now, the night has come and we must rest." Johannes explained.

"No. I have rested my whole life and now the Elixir has finally come into my grasp! I shall not wait, not while it is out there."

"Even so, the storm is still raging. If we ride now we are most likely to catch our deaths, there is no doubt in that!" He pleaded, his voice raising.

"We leave now, Johannes. That is final." Grigori said, confidently but calmly. There was no way he could dissuade him now.

Johannes turned to his knapsack sitting on the doorstep, dripping with rain. He pulled out a spare tunic and a brown leather jerkin and placed them down on a bench littered with jars and skins full of yellow powdery substances. There was no telling what Grigori was ever up to, he had kept to himself ever since Johannes had shown up that clear night so long ago, eager to escape his past. Since then he had wondered a countless number of times if Grigori had always been this way, alone and miserable with nobody to rely on.

He pulled his camicia off over his head, the coarse fabric rubbing his scars irritatingly. He drew in his breath as one of his recent wounds re-opened, sending rivulets of burgundy coloured blood down his back. Washing the blood off with a spare cloth, Johannes donned his fine tunic followed by the leather jerkin, proving a much more comfortable wear.

It will all be over soon. After tonight, you will be free. Johannes thought, and smiled to himself.

Grigori returned with two black-hooded capes in his hands and a knapsack over his left shoulder. Handing one to Johannes, he slipped on the other and raised the hood over his salty hair, masking his face from view.

Johannes did the same as Grigori blew out the last candlelight, forcing them towards the front of the house in total darkness. A wild gust of wind tore the door open on its hinges and the pair ran out into the pounding rain.

Hobbling down the stony steps, Grigori and Johannes ran through the windswept streets and into the town square, their footsteps splashing through the mud. Breathless, Johannes swung the stable door open and untied the two nearest stallions from their post. The stable-master wouldn't mind as they would only be gone half of the night.

Mounting the horses, Grigori led the way outside and into the night, leaving the swinging stable-doors wide open and vulnerable.

They rode under the cover of darkness, galloping rapidly out of town and into the woodland, following only a small, overgrown path ridden with dead leaves and weeds. Grigori and Johannes neared the town, their black cloaks bouncing wildly in the wind and their knapsacks clattering with every blow.

The town, much like Grigori's, appeared dull and damp, water dripping off of their thatched roofs and onto the street below. Silence.  No flicker of candlelight illuminated the windows, no whispered gossip nor cry of an infant. Just eerie silence.

Johannes dismounted his horse, the loud thump of his feet echoing as he strode up to the last house on the street. It was set aside from the others, more homely and personalized than the dreary, repetitive scene he had seen moments before. This was the house he had visited just hours earlier, when the sun was at its highest in the sky. If he had guessed correctly, the inhabitants of this house already knew that they had arrived.

"Señor Garcia?" Johannes said softly, shaking the rain out of his blonde hair.

The door opened slowly, revealing a stout, middle-aged woman. Her black eyes narrowed as she saw the pair move forward into the room expectantly.

"Señora Garcia." She corrected, leading the way into a dark room shrouded with smoke and powder. The windows were boarded up with wood and dirty linen, the floor dirty with chicken bones and shattered pottery.

A man stepped out from the darkness with two small children at his side. An elderly lady stood to the left, ignoring the visitors who seemed to be intruding.

"You have the food?" The man asked, gesturing towards Grigori's knapsack.

Grigori set the sack down on a table which sat in the middle of the room, gathering dust. Pulling out three brown loaves of bread and a string of salted pork, Johannes watched as the children's eyes lit up hungrily. The man nodded, accepting the food.

"I have heard rumours that you can change an object into another, señor." Grigori stated expectantly.

"These rumours are true. Isabella here," He said assuredly, pointing to his wife, "can also change objects."

"I should like something created for me." The alchemist said as-a-matter-of-factly.

"Oh," the man chuckled, "we shall see about that. What is it that you desire?"

Grigori glanced at Johannes quickly, a sly smile on his face.

"I have the ingredients you require and in due time you shall find out what I need. Right now, I just need you to concentrate."

"If you desire the Elixir of Immortality, you cannot have it. Another has already created it and it cannot be made again. I warn you not to try, dear señor, for it has some nasty repercussions." Señor Garcia hissed, taking a seat on a wooden chair.

"You wouldn't know anything about the Elixir, its existence is only known to few, excluding the petty sorcerers and magicians. They are dabbling in magic that they know nothing about, so I suggest you clamp your mouth shut before you say another word." Grigori retorted.

Silence passed between the both of them, head-locked in what seemed to be a kind of silent debate. Johannes turned his attention towards the little iron-grey-haired girl who had begun playing with the tassels on his cape. He smiled down at her but was only met by distant black eyes, open in a soundless scream.

"I have no clue why you crave it anyway. It is a cursed blessing that you will regret later on in your life. You watch your friends die, the love of your life, your parents, your children." He spat angrily. "Who wishes that upon themselves!? Who would be so unstable to actually desire watching the death of their loved ones."

Grigori hesitated in thought, but dismissed the idea immediately. He handed Señor the intricately designed piece of canvas before whispering five words into his ear.

"I have no one left."

Turning to Johannes, he offered a smug smile.       

"You know I like to work alone. Perhaps you will take Señorita outside for a wander while I work?"

Johannes smiled back, hiding his disappointment. Everything he had worked for had built up to this, and now he didn't even get to see it succeed. To tell the absolute truth, he hadn't seen the final results of any of Grigori's experiments.

But I won't need to. Not once Laeragion has taken over.

"I won't be long, eh chico?" Grigori said, returning to his work.

Johannes slipped outside, the child in one arm and his knapsack in the other. The rain had ceased pouring for now, the only sound resonating being the clack, clack of his boots against the rough surface of the street.

They came to the edge of the town, a mere twenty yards away from the house. He placed the child down, taking her hand in his. The town stood on a hill, overlooking the rolling green fields stricken with livestock below. The light from the houses glowed a bright yellow against the foggy, grey sky. It was a pretty sight, one that he did not witness very often.

The ground below him suddenly began to shake terribly, snatching Johannes away from the sight. He whirled around, the movement only intensifying as he looked about desperately for the little girl who had accompanied him out here.

Shouts began to arise from the neighbouring houses; men and women alike emerging from behind thick doors dressed only in thin nightshifts.

It is happening.

The wood stabilizing the houses became unstable with every jolt, sending loose strands of straw flying onto the ground. Families ran confusedly out onto the streets, huddling together for comfort and warmth.

Johannes had not yet witnessed the escape of Grigori or any of the Garcia family, for that matter. Running forwards towards the darkened house, he felt an icy chill creep steadily down his spine. His feet stood still, but not on the damp ground. Johannes reached out to steady himself, but all he could grab was the cool air around him, and that was when he saw the distance between him and the ground.

A dark figure began to advance from the inside of the house, a dainty little black-eyed girl adorned in a pure white wolf pelt. Johannes tried to move, wriggling this way and that out of reach from the little girl that he had so foolishly led outside minutes earlier.

It was no good. He was stuck mid-way through a jump, his legs dangling in the air. Suddenly, a deep voice entered his mind; sifting through his thoughts like a miller's hand sifting powdery flour.

"Johannes. You need to get away from here now, do you understand?" It said.

The voice seemed to be coming from the little girl now standing directly in front of him, unmoving.

"What have you done to me? Get me down!" Johannes whimpered, genuinely scared.

The little girl laughed. Not a childish light-hearted giggle but a deep, malicious gurgle.

" Get out of here. I have a task to attend to."

"You need to save your parents, they are trapped in the house!" Johannes pleaded.

"Parents? Pah! They are not my parents, much too simple-minded for a being like me." It retaliated, clearly amused.

"Well then, what exactly are you?" He asked, scared.

The black-eyed girl took a step closer and leaned forward to caress his soft skin. The touch of her china-white hand on his face shocked Johannes; sending an electrifying tingle down his back. The truth dawned on him. This was Laeragion, the goddess the High Altern had sent to collect his payment.

"Not human, I can assure you." She admitted. "Truthfully, I don't know much about myself, only what I am here for."

"To collect his payment." He nodded.

"Yes. The High Altern does not let me out of captivity often, and when he does, he wants the task done swiftly."

"I told Grigori what the High Altern wanted him to believe, that the payment had already been made." Johannes sighed. "He believed the lie and set about preparing for tonight. Please, I beg of you, I have done everything he asked for, just let me go."

"In due time, young one." She smiled, turning away. "I just need to stop your master."

"Why?" Johannes asked, genuinely confused.

"You see, you had absolutely no idea what Grigori was planning tonight; what he would do when he acquired the Elixir." She scowled.

"And you do?" He asked, his eyebrows arching.

The little girl hesitated. "No, but I do know that it would be used for evil doings. Forever the world would be a maelstrom; a lofty ship battering the high, turmoiled seas. And I do not wish that on your descendants. The world should be happy and peaceful as it used to be."

"Why don't you talk Grigori out of the experiment? Make him rethink his actions." Johannes suggested.

The girl laughed piercingly. "Do you honestly think that he would co-operate now; when he is dangerously close to acquiring the only object he cares for and desires!? No, small talk will not do. They must be exterminated, all of them. Besides, his life is what I originally came to take." She concluded.

"Oh yes," she added, a sly smile on her face. "Once I'm finished with your amigo over there, you will safely be able to say that the Earth as you know it will never be the same again. Señor Garcia was correct; the experiment does have some nasty consequences."

The grey-haired child stepped forward and slipped him a water-skin full of a metallic-looking liquid before turning away to finish her job.

"What is it? Johannes asked, peering inside.

"Oh, just a little something I hid from Grigori." She said, smirking. "Adiós, Johannes."

The little girl strode away, igniting in her tiny hands what looked like a blazing orange flame. Resting her palms against the doorframe of the house, flames shot up swiftly; licking voraciously at the thatched roof.

Johannes cringed as the screams began; first a high pitched wailing and then the lower, deeper voices of the men trapped inside.

Glowing embers flew into the air as one by one the rafters fell in and onto the unfortunate inhabitants. The house crumbled into itself, but Johannes could still hear the haunting screams of his dying master ringing loud in his ears.

He stared down at the pouch he held close to his chest; the liquid inside trembling with every falling beam of wood. Suddenly it occurred to him what this mysterious liquid was. Johannes was holding the substance that his master had spent his whole life searching for.

The Elixir of Immortality.