The Alchemist's Practice Chapter 15

It was less than one week until the festival of Kokkini, nearly two months since Edric had arrived back in Mayel, and for the first time, he felt as though a weight had lifted from him.

Beyond his thanking Wynn out loud, he also thanked her in silence for her pushing him to visit his old home. If she hadn't done that, he probably would have gone back to Sybold never to return. If he had left, he also wouldn't have his renewed vigour to find his brother, Sel. Edric felt a wave of shame over the whole affair, but it was silenced by his good humour.

After visiting his old home, he and Wynn returned to the inn, where it had become a touch busy in their absence. Wynn went straight back to work after giving Edric another brief embrace, and he sat down with Garrick and Kennard to tell them his decision. He also asked that they keep his desire to open a shop a secret for now.

Having not completed his apprenticeship and not finishing the licensing exam, Edric would be taking a significant risk in opening a shop in Mayel. If an inquisitor found out, he could stand trial for breaking the law and, at worst, would be sentenced to hang.

In the face of finding his brother and other feelings, not having a license was the least of Edric's worries.

The following day, Kennard left another in charge of the bank and took Edric around to look at a few former residents' shops and homes. According to Kennard, there were several to choose from, but only three would have been appropriate for a shop that didn't require extensive renovations.

The first home they went into was nearby the bank, almost next to the courthouse and right in the village square. It was, in no plain terms, a mansion like Kennard's family owned.

"Kennard, this is too much for a small shop as I envisioned," he said to his friend next to him as they stood outside.

Kennard moved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Perhaps," he said. "But at least let me show you the interior." Edric simply stared at the home without moving, so Kennard added, "Do you remember who owned this home?"

Edric looked down in thought. A wagon full of travelling merchants stopped beside them and began unloading their cargo, rushing to stake their claim to what little area there was left to sell in the square.

"I can't say I remember," Edric finally said.

"The Koller's."

Edric's brow raised as his memory came back to him. The Koller's were a wealthy family from Tishani who came to Mayel on what seemed a lark to live a country life. The matriarch, Markus Koller, tried to become the mayor of Mayel but never succeeded in winning over the farming families.

"Why did they move away?" though Edric could guess at the answer.

"Their son," Kennard said, which surprised Edric. He thought it would have been because he couldn't become mayor, though that may have also played a part. "They took him to Sybold to seek treatment."

Edric didn't remember the child much. He was born only a bit before his brother and would have been about five when he left Mayel. "What was wrong with their son?"

"He inherited his mother's goitre, and he looked touched," Kennard said. "Because of his wealth and standing, none said it to Markus, but the farmers said the boy was a faeling by the way he acted. And you know as well as I do how cruel kids can be, especially when their parents endorse certain ill behaviour." Kennard looked angered. To anyone else, there was no difference, but in his two months home, Edric picked up his subtle expressions again. "Markus said it was due to the rise in banditry, but I think he loved his son too much to allow him to be bullied."

Edric shook his head at the notion. In Sybold, such old-fashioned thoughts were no longer spoken of, at least in public. Edric knew that goitre in children would lead to developmental issues, but even in Sybold, there was no cure for it. At best, they knew diet could be a factor in some cases, but not all, and there weren't enough cases to experiment with, so research was currently at a standstill.

Now, Edric was curious about the house that they had lived in. He stepped forward, and Kennard went ahead to unlock the doors with a large keyring he was carrying around.

Through the double doors, the mansion of a house revealed itself to Edric and Kennard. A waft of dust met them as they walked through, and after waving it away, they were in the great hall.

The great hall was far larger than seemed necessary for a house even of this size, it being a mansion compared to others in the village, after all. Nearly the whole floor in the hall was covered in a lavish carpet that made Edric balk. Around the room, all the furnishings were left behind, couches, chairs, tables, and a serving cart filled with teapots and dishes. On the ceiling was a chandelier that could light the hall and the second floor easily. It would have even rivalled the York bank as a business and looked eerily similar in many ways, no doubt due to the same carpenter working on it.

On the far wall, across from the entrance, there was a dusty painting of the Koller family, father, mother, and son. The painter judiciously softened many of the uglier features of the two. Markus's gut was less pronounced, his wife's goitre wasn't quite so noticeable, and the son looked every bit the boy of ten he should. Edric knew that if the goitre was inherited, enough so that he developed wrong, and it was noticeable, there was no way the son looked that well.

"Perhaps when my business rivals your own family's, I may need something of this size," Edric said as he waved more dust away, "but for now, I think I should look elsewhere."

Edric and Kennard left the Koller home and headed to another house near the village's edge just before the guard post on the road towards Sybold. They passed by the merchants setting up stalls, many of who called out to them trying to sell them something.

The house by the guardpost was nearly the opposite of the mansion they had just visited. It used to be home to a small family that Edric wasn't familiar with, though they were a large family. The single-floor dwelling had one large room for a living area and hearth for cooking and a side room for sleeping with six beds crammed into it.

Though it would make for a suitable home, especially for a bachelor such as him, Edric thought it wouldn't make for a good business.

"I'm not trying to be picky," he said, "I just want to weigh my options." Kennard nodded but made a curious expression. "What?"

Kennard shook his head. "Nothing," he replied with a smirk.

Edric smacked his arm. "Just show me the next place, you swindler." The two laughed together at Edric's jab.

Kennard took him to the last location, the old cobbler's shop, a generational home owned by a family whose namesake came from their profession. It was just off the square halfway between the inn and the church, a near-perfect location for a business.

At the front of the shop, the door was in the middle, and two large windows held nooks to show off shoes or other wares to the main street. Edric wiped one window and tried to peer inside, using both his hands to block the sun out, but it was too dusty on the inside.

Kennard opened the door, and the two went inside. As soon as Edric looked at the shop, he knew it was the place he wanted. On both sides, there were many shelves that used to hold shoes that he was picturing holding potions and jars of medicine. In the center, there was a small island for more products, and at the back, a counter ran the length of the shop with more shelves for other items.

Above, there was a decently high ceiling above that, with the large windows, let in a lot of light. He figured he could hang herbs to dry from the ceiling, and they could get sun through the day to dry, and they would be high enough to not bother any customers.

Kennard lifted up the left part of the counter on a hinge to get to the back of the shop, where there was a door. "Come, let me show you the living quarters."

Edric, lost in thought, jogged over to catch up with his friend. Kennard opened the door to the back as Edric was examining behind the counter, where he could see many small cabinets for more storage.

At the back, there was another door in front of them and a hallway off to the right. Kennard opened the other door to show Edric a small storage room lined floor to ceiling with shoe racks with enough room for two people to stand shoulder to shoulder in the middle.

Edric thought that if he removed the shoe racks, it could make for a decent private room to examine patients. He could even perform minor treatments in such a room if he had the proper equipment.

The stairs at the end of the hallway led up to the second floor. Just to the left of them, there was an open doorway to the back of the home. Kennard went up the stairs first, but Edric slowed down to glance at the back of the house, where he saw the kitchen and dining area. He was only able to catch the hearth in the corner, a heavy wooden table, and a door and windows to the backyard before he ran up the curved, narrow staircase to the second floor.

The second floor was the plainest part of the whole shop with just three bedrooms. The master bedroom was a decent size with a fireplace connected to the central flue of the kitchen hearth and a view of the village creek and the road to Tishani. The other two bedrooms were as big as his room in Sybold, and both faced the village road to the church. It would be a bit much for him, but there was room for a family, should that opportunity present itself.

Back downstairs, they examined the kitchen and living room more closely. The kitchen hearth was well used and felt solidly built with deeply trenched stones all around. And, unlike the rest of the home, the entire living room floor was covered with hewn stone of a good make. The hewn stone was also encompassed the small plot of the backyard. The stone looked beautiful, but he could practically feel the cold dampness it would bring in the winter. He would have to ensure the seal between the wood and stone was proper before fall came.

Outside, the backyard was spacious and gave a nice view of the road to Tishani and the creek and the small bridge just a ways from Nuumad's Blessing. Thanks to the road's slight curve and how the village was built, he could see Nuumad's Blessing from where he was. And, just across the creek in front of him, a large apple tree stood that was used by the community and wouldn't be torn down, so he had no fear of losing his view any time soon.

"I can really picture myself in this place," he said as he took in the smell of fresh spring grass and the running creek in front of him.

Kennard was leaning against the doorframe of the living area. "I had a feeling this one would work best for you."

Edric chuckled. "Then why show me the other places?"

Kennard paused a moment before stepping out to take in the spring breeze and the view with Edric. "Perhaps this trick may help you in your business, perhaps not," Kennard began, "You can't simply give someone exactly what you think they'll like first. Instead, you show them something you know is wrong first. That way, they can see why it's wrong for themselves. Then, by the third thing, after they've been a bit worn down, they'll have envisioned what they want. And, if you're great at what you do, you'll already know what they want before you've even started."

Edric laughed this time. It was as though Kennard had read his own mind. Before they began looking, Edric didn't have a picture in his head, but he knew what he didn't want. "You," he said with mock severity, "that's why you were smirking earlier, and that's why you insisted on letting me see the Koller home."

Kennard smiled, this time a bit bashfully, and shrugged his shoulders. "My father taught me well, and some comes with experience."

Edric shook his head and tried to win back the battle of wits he didn't know he was a part of. "Well, one area that you missed was a distillery. No room here for my equipment unless I don't want a kitchen, and it wouldn't be safe to add it to the backyard given the creek being so close." Of all people, Edric felt he didn't need to explain to Kennard exactly why it could be harmful to have a mix of potions leaking into the water supply.

Kennard glanced around and nodded in thought. "True," he said eventually. "There are some larger cabins just past the bridge that are away from most of the homes in Mayel and the main well that could be suitable."

"I'm sure you can find one for me. I probably don't even need to see it since you're such a smart businessman, o' illustrious banker of the York family," Edric said with a slight bow.

Kennard ribbed his friend with his elbow, and the two left the Cobbler home laughing together. Many in the village took notice of what was happening. Soon, word had spread throughout the village about how Edric was looking for a place to buy a home and possibly a business to become the new healer in town.

The next day, as Edric didn't want to use any of the gold left by his parents, he returned to the bank to discuss a mortgage. When he entered the York bank, he could tell Kennard looked frustrated, or, at least, frustrated for him. He was looking at some papers on the counter in front when Edric walked over.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Kennard turned the papers around to show Edric. "There's been another offer on the Cobbler home."

Edric's heart sank. The location was nearly perfect for his shop, and now he could be involved in a costly bidding war. But, the timing seemed suspect. Why would someone only now put in an offer, just after he had? He looked over the papers Kennard had shown him and saw the name of the person who put in the other offer, and he cursed under his breath as his stupidity came back to bite him once more. The one who made the other offer was none other than Maxwell Hensch.

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I hope you enjoyed this chapter of The Alchemist's Practice. Be sure to heart it at the bottom and share it with friends and family. If you like my writing, then check out www.mcleansnovels.com where you can see all my full length novels.

This chapter was a bit interesting to write. Originally I had planned for this to be more of a footnote, where he agonized over the price of a few and how none were perfect due to not being able to have a distillery. Then I remembered mortgages exist. And I also remembered that this is a novel, and conflict is the backbone of a novel. First it was the internal conflict, and it's slowly turning external.

I hope these little moments we're sharing aren't too much "inside baseball" for you. Although Moneyball was very entertaining, so perhaps it's moot. Look forward to the next chapter. Let the festival of the sun begin!