Chapter 45
Huh?
…
"Okaaay…" Eilor murmured, letting out a long sigh as he lifted the sheet of paper in front of him.
He turned it a couple of times, tilting his head as if that would help make sense of it, but it was useless.
The paper looked like a tangle of crooked lines, crossed-out arrows, scribbles, symbols that only made sense to him, tight paragraphs, and notes crammed into the margins.
"What the hell…?" he muttered, bringing it a little closer. "I definitely need more paper…" he grumbled under his breath.
Eli, who was still talking to one of the newly awakened, glanced at him and let out a barely audible chuckle from the other side of the table.
"That," she said, pointing at the sheet with a finger, "is the most illegible summary I've ever seen in my life."
Eilor arched an eyebrow, not taking his eyes off the disaster.
"Yeah, well… it has its own system," he replied dryly.
"System?" she repeated, laughing under her breath. "If that has a system, then I'm a librarian."
Eilor let out a snort, setting the paper down on the table.
"Don't make fun," he said, though the corner of his mouth curled into an involuntary smile. "There's logic in there."
"Uh-huh…" Eli nodded with feigned seriousness. "It's just written in a language even you don't understand."
The nearby group chuckled softly. Some leaned over to look at the sheet and made joking comments:
"Is that a note or an incantation?"
"It looks like the map of a mental crime scene."
Eilor just raised an eyebrow, defeated but amused, and sank a little deeper into his chair.
He sighed and propped his elbow on the table, holding the sheet up against the light, but he still maintained a slight smile on his face.
He bit his lip, silently.
"Well…" he finally said, lowering the paper. "I admit that maybe… it is a little illegible."
Eli laughed softly, the sound breaking the quiet of the place.
"'A little,' he says," she repeated, imitating his tone. "That's not writing, it's a battlefield."
She rested her chin on her hand and added, with a barely contained smile:
"You should put a sign on it: 'here lie the victims of coherence'."
Eilor let out a dry laugh, shaking his head.
"Very funny. Next time I write something, I'll leave the calligraphy to you."
Eli leaned on one arm, tilting her head slightly as she pointed at the sheet with a finger, a half-smile on her face. "Can you even read it yourself?"
Eilor looked at her for a second, then looked down at the paper as if analyzing an abstract work of art.
"Mmm… yes." He leaned forward, frowning.
Eli let out a small laugh, covering her mouth with her hand.
Eilor watched her with feigned indignation.
Eilor turned the sheet, looking for an angle that would make it more legible, and murmured:
"Maybe if I look at it upside down…"
Eli laughed openly this time, lowering her arm and leaning back against the chair back.
---
The alchemist woke with a slight start.
He blinked a couple of times, his eyes still heavy, until the murmur of the place cleared his head.
He sat up slowly, supporting himself with one hand on the mattress, stretching until his back cracked.
As he did, he noticed the change in the atmosphere: there were no more quiet corners in the hall.
Behind him to his left, a group had gathered around the table where everyone was talking. Voices mingled with laughter, cross-talk, and the occasional yawn.
He turned his neck, stretching it with a soft crack, and his gaze stopped at the other end of the hall.
There, another group was sorting weapons and equipment.
The metals clashed together in an irregular rhythm, and voices were beginning to mix in a friendly debate.
There, a few young men were lifting a spear and asking aloud:
"Whose is this? I'm not carrying it again if it's not mine!"
"Leave it there, it's Jan's!" another replied, without even moving.
"Are you sure? Because Jan swears he didn't bring it!"
"Whose dagger was this?" one asked, holding it up by the hilt.
"Not mine!" another replied without even looking.
"Of course it is, yours has the broken hilt," a third voice chimed in.
"Mine was broken from the start!" the first one protested.
The alchemist allowed himself a half-smile.
The hubbub was gradually increasing, filled with half-asleep arguments and loose jokes.
Around him, the few who were still lying down weren't really asleep anymore: some had their eyes half-open, listening to the conversation; others simply refused to move, with the blankets pulled up to their necks.
The alchemist got up from his corner, stretching with a yawn so long it seemed to drag out the fatigue of the entire night.
He stretched a little more, searching for something with his gaze.
He found it in a corner, crushed under a coat.
He approached it with a sigh and pulled it out, shaking it.
A small cloud of dust rose as he did so. It was a satchel.
"Ugh…" he grunted.
Without worrying too much about any possible onlookers, he began to remove some of his clothing.
He started unbuttoning the clasps of the blue uniform, one by one, with slow, almost automatic movements. The fabric, stiffened by moisture, gave way with a rough sound, like old paper tearing.
The uniform fell off in parts: first the outer jacket, then the cross-straps that held the side pockets.
Underneath, the loose shirt still stuck a little to his torso, marked by pale stains of salt and dried sweat.
He shook out the sleeves a little, ran a hand over his neck, and then walked towards the group gathered near the table.
The murmur of conversations mixed with the metallic clatter of the weapons the other group was still sorting.
He crossed the hall, avoiding a couple of discarded boots and an open toolbox, until he reached the main table.
Eli noticed him first and looked up, greeting him with a slight gesture.
"Good morning, or whatever this is," murmured the alchemist, rubbing his eyes.
Eilor nodded, still seated, with the sheet in hand.
"Almost everyone is awake now."
"Yeah, I noticed," said the alchemist, looking towards the group still arguing over the weapons.
One of the young men from the back group raised his voice:
"Hey, alchemist! Your bag was about to be used as a pillow!"
"Then it at least served a purpose," he replied, without turning, which provoked a few scattered laughs.
Meanwhile, Eilor stretched his arms and rubbed his face, letting out a long sigh.
Eli watched him out of the corner of her eye.
The alchemist dropped the satchel onto the table with a dull thud and turned around.
The alchemist moved suddenly, almost as if propelled by a spring.
In the blink of an eye, he was no longer by the table: he had returned to the bed where he had woken up.
The mattress creaked under his weight, and the young man next to him jumped back, letting out a choked sound.
"What…?!" he managed to say, alarm evident in his voice.
The alchemist didn't even look at him.
His hands were already moving, pushing aside the crumpled blanket.
The gesture was quick, almost impatient.
He found what he was looking for.
He leaned over and, with a sharp movement, picked up the jacket from the floor.
The fabric fell with a heavy, damp sound.
He held it for a second between his fingers, assessing it.
Then he shook it out with one hand.
The young man who was still watching him took another step back, unsure whether to offer help or let him be.
The alchemist, however, had already finished inspecting the uniform.
Without wasting any time, he retraced his steps.
He walked back to the table at the same speed he had left, crossing the space in a couple of quick strides that made the heads of those nearby turn.
The group's murmur cut off for a moment, confused by the abruptness of the movement.
He reached the chair, stopped precisely, and hung the jacket over the backrest with a naturalness that contrasted with his previous speed.
The fabric settled slowly.
The movement revealed the marks of his equipment: leather belts, small holsters for vials and tools, and a row of glass tubes that tinkled softly as they were released from his belt. Some still contained liquids of various shades that vibrated slightly upon contact with the air.
Eilor looked up from the paper and watched him out of the corner of his eye.
"You're getting used to this quickly," he said, his tone somewhere between curious and casual.
The alchemist shrugged as he adjusted his shirt sleeve.
"It's not my first time. As a first-grade, I've found myself in similar situations before," he replied naturally, as if talking about the weather.
Eli nodded slightly, still with a small smile.
"Good line."
"Thanks," replied the alchemist. "I use it to impress people."
Eilor let out a discreet laugh, and the rest of the group continued sorting without paying him much attention.
The moment had a peculiar calm: that shared pause where everyone kept moving, but without urgency anymore.
For an instant, the entire hall seemed to synchronize: the footsteps, the crossing voices, the rustle of dry fabrics, the metallic click of a weapon fitting into its scabbard.
The echo mixed with loose murmurs, with brief laughter, with the routine that was beginning to feel familiar.
The alchemist stretched one last time, letting out a deep sigh.
"Right then…" he said, giving himself a couple of pats on the shoulders, as if concluding some invisible task.
Then, he noticed the sheet in Eilor's hands.
He frowned slightly and leaned forward.
"Can you read that?" he asked, crossing his arms as he moved a little closer.
Eilor looked up, feigning a confidence that fell apart mid-sentence.
"Of course I ca… I… can?" he murmured, dragging out the words as he brought his face closer to the paper, squinting as if that would help.
The alchemist arched an eyebrow, suppressing a smile.
"What's wrong?" he said, leaning over the table a bit more until the sheet was within his view.
Eilor held it, offering no resistance, and the alchemist tilted his head to get a better look.
As soon as his eyes focused on the content, his expression changed completely.
The crooked lines, the scattered symbols, the words boxed into the margins… it was as if every part of the sheet told its own chaotic story.
He let out a sound between a laugh and surprise, a half-snort that broke the group's calm.
"My god… what is this?" he exclaimed, not entirely holding back.
Eli turned her head immediately, and some of those nearby also looked up.
A couple of them leaned over discreetly, trying to look over the alchemist's shoulder.
Eilor pressed his lips together, slowly lowering the paper.
"Notes," he said with almost theatrical seriousness, raising an eyebrow. "Important notes."
The alchemist blinked a couple of times, as if expecting the paper to rearrange itself.
"Important, he says," he repeated quietly, and then let out a brief, resigned laugh.
Eli laughed too, covering her mouth with one hand.
One of the young men in the back commented in a mocking tone:
"Are those notes or the map of a crime?"
Eilor sighed, defeated, but the smile that formed on his face was inevitable.
"You're all hilarious," he said, letting the sheet fall onto the table.
The alchemist looked at him, incredulous.
"Didn't you have more paper?"
Eilor stretched over the table, grabbed another sheet and held it up, showing it to the alchemist. The sheet wasn't in much better condition compared to the other one.
Laughter spread around the table.
Even those who were further away turned their heads for a moment to look at the scene before returning to their tasks.
Eli observed the sheet from where she was, with a slight smile.
"Still… it's your handwriting," commented Eli, tilting her head a little, resting an elbow on the table and pointing at the sheet with a slight gesture. "Even if it's illegible now, at least you should understand most of it… or the bare minimum, right?"
Eilor grabbed and lifted the pen, scratching his temple with a nervous smile.
"Yeah, well…—"
Before he could finish the sentence, a hand appeared out of nowhere and snatched the pen from above.
"Huh?" Eilor exhaled, blinking.
The movement was so fast he barely registered the glint of the metal before feeling the emptiness between his fingers.
The sudden movement made everyone nearby turn at the same time; the air tensed for a second. Even Eli straightened up a little, instinctively.
The owner of the hand — a young man with messy hair and an alert gaze — froze, surprised by the general reaction.
"Hey… easy," he said, raising his other hand in a peace gesture. "I just wanted to see the pen, it looked weird from over there."
Eilor looked at him with a mix of surprise and annoyance before noticing his long blue coat and thus his identity. The young man from whom he had taken the pen while he was sleeping.
Eilor blinked a couple of times, his heart still racing.
"…warn me next time, you almost gave me a heart attack." - he said, intentionally ignoring the situation.
The young man smiled nervously, holding the pen between his fingers. Realizing his intention.
"Sorry, sorry. It's just that…" he turned it a little, observing the gleam of the bronze under the light "I've never seen a pen with engravings like these before."
Eli leaned in a little, curious.
"Engravings?"
Eilor squinted, surprised.
"…that wasn't there before."
A brief silence spread as the gleam of the metal seemed to intensify slightly, pulsing faintly with the ambient light.
Eilor turned towards the alchemist, still observing the strange gleam of the bronze.
"So… what's with this pen?" he asked cautiously, pointing at the object in the owner's hand.
The alchemist, sitting with his body somewhat tilted, raised a single eyebrow.
His reaction wasn't immediate.
First, a fleeting glance at the object; then, a silence that seemed deliberate.
He crossed his arms, exhaled slowly, and closed his eyes.
The entire room held its breath without knowing why.
The background buzz — laughter, footsteps, the scrape of metal — seemed to fade a few degrees, until only the murmur of the paper on the table remained.
Eli glanced at him, curious, and the others exchanged brief looks, waiting for the alchemist to say something.
But he said nothing.
He just maintained that air of someone measuring the exact weight of a response.
Three, maybe four seconds passed. Long enough for someone to cough nervously.
Then, with an almost theatrical calm, the alchemist straightened up.
He coughed softly into his closed fist, cleared his throat, and opened a single eye.
"Alchemist's heart blood," he said.
The phrase fell with the sound a heavy object makes sinking into water.
A dry silence.
And then.
"Huh?" several of them said at once.