The Call Beyond

“Clarice, would you be a dear and make sure those field kits are packed correctly? They’re quite fragile, and not at all cheap.” Though it was merely staving off the inevitable, the elderly alchemist allowed himself distraction through the tedious process of packing his lab.
His apprentice, her dark hair tied back and a pleasant smile on her face, went about her work without the slightest worry.
“His Majesty demands a report on the packing, Master Pennel.” A firm and cold voice in his ear jarred him from his brief respite, the older man sucking in his breath as he patiently smiled at the soldier.
“Tell him that we’re just about done, and I’ll be meeting him soon to give a full report. My workers at the shrine informed me not long ago that construction is complete.” He answered quickly, closing a chest as he spoke to the ironclad warrior. “The ritual will occur as planned.”
Without a word, the knight dutifully nodded, stepping hastily to the exit to report to his superiors. Pennel watched him go, thoughtfully brushing his fingers against his chin as Clarice appeared, clapping her hands together.
“Lab’s all packed up, Master!” She chortled with a proud smile.
“…Good job. It seems that it’s time for us to make our final preparations for this evening. It seems that I have a report to make to our lord.” Forcing a smile of his own, he gestured for her to follow as he left the laboratory.
“You seem really distracted, Master. What’s the matter?” Clarice remarked, tapping his shoulder with a gloved finger.
“This is the most complex ritual that we’ve ever attempted, Clarice. Every detail of the process must be perfected, or else failure are inevitable.” He explained reluctantly. “As with everything I’ve taught you about alchemic processes, it is an art in its design, and a science in its precision.”
“Is this really an alchemy thing, though?”
“Not exactly, no. What we’re doing here is an art that’s been lost for ages. As the preeminent scholar relating to the ancient histories here, His Majesty King Venneth entrusted this task to me.” Pennel admitted. “I’ve learned much in the last few years from the ancient relics and texts that his explorers have brought back, but it’s impossible to determine my mastery of this field.”
Leading her to the main hall of the building, he laid eyes on the grand entry door that would lead to the throne room of his lord.
“I do fear for this project’s outcome, in any case. His Majesty’s…enthusiasm for my work has necessitated hastier progress than I feel comfortable with.” He lowered his voice, shaking his head disdainfully. “But he is the sovereign lord of the land, so his decision is final.”
Pushing open the large doors, Pennel did his best to maintain a pleasant expression as he laid eyes on the king, a plump man perhaps a few decades younger than himself. King Feren Venneth VI was typical of a king: well dressed, a smug and clean-shaven face, and most of all possessing a distinct air of apathy towards those around him.
“Ahh, my favorite alchemist. How goes your work, Pennel?” He spoke with a large grin, lurching off his throne to clap his hands. Around him stood a group of well-dressed nobles, each of them regarding the elderly alchemist with distaste. Pennel knew they supported the king’s fascinations with the unusual and strange only to curry his deeply capricious favor.
“I’m quite well, Your Majesty. You received my report, I trust?” He bowed stiffly, his back aching as he leaned forward.
“Oh, yes, yes, I heard those. Tell me, are preparations complete?” Venneth waved off the question nonchalantly, slapping the alchemist on the shoulder.
“They’re ready. As I’ve spoken before, my lord, I do wish to state my concerns regarding this—” Pennel had hardly spoken before he was interrupted.
“You’ve offered such ramblings before, yes. You worry too much, my friend!” Proudly staring back at his throne, Venneth placed his hands on his hips. “For too long we’ve lazed about in this trite land, Pennel. The explorers that came long before us blazed a path to worlds beyond our own, fearlessly so. I intend for history to remember that it was Feren Venneth VI, King of Lichor, that made the next step.”
“Thanks to his servants, he means.” Pennel managed to avoid rolling his eyes, reserving such an attitude to his own mind as he bowed his head. “Of course, my lord. I’m happy to have played a part in all of this. I’ve learned much from this venture.”
“Trust me, my friend…if this ritual proves a success, I assure you that the rewards will be…significant.” The king smiled, turning his attention to Clarice. “And you will have had the privilege of learning under the greatest alchemist in the history of our world, young one.”
“With respect, my lord, I already have.” She grinned, beaming at Pennel. Venneth let out a boisterous laugh, his court joining in.
“You’ve got quite the fiery apprentice! I now see why you took her on.”
“Of course, my lord. If I may interrupt, it appears that it is now time.” Pennel stepped in, gesturing towards one of the stained glass windows dotting the walls.
“Ah, indeed it is. At last, our efforts will be rewarded. Go, Pennel. I will join you shortly. Tonight, all of our dreams shall come true.”
Pennel left the throne room with Clarice behind him, a pensive expression written across his face.
“Clarice…if there is one thing that you must retain of my instruction, it is that you remain careful of whom you trust. The climate here can be as volatile as any chemical reaction.”
“Didn’t you used to say it was good that the king was paying attention to alchemists?” She asked.
“It was, then. King Venneth’s support allowed me to expand the boundaries of my research, financially and politically. However, it came at a cost, one that I still pay today.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Remember the nature of our study, Clarice. All things come at a price, in time.”
She stared at him, wide eyed and doubtful, as they reached the balcony doors. Pennel allowed the somber expression on his face to fade, replacing it with a tense smile.
“Remember what I’ve taught you, and you will live a long and fruitful life, my apprentice.”
On the stone balcony before them stood a grand array of crystalline mirrors and patterns drawn in an intricate circle. Several other alchemists worked diligently, examining the mirrors for flaws. Beyond the grand architecture’s boundaries was the city and ocean, reflecting against the horizon.
“Preparations are complete, Master Pennel!” One of them called out, the group slowly dispersing as he approached the center of the circle.
“Excellent. Then we lack only one ingredient to complete this.” Looking up at the sky, he gazed upon the dim silhouette of the moon, the sun rapidly diving under the horizon. “How much time remains?”
“Mere minutes. The mirrors have been positioned, and we stand at the ready.”
“That is exactly what I wanted to hear.” Venneth spoke up from behind Pennel and Clarice, a pair of his knights trailing behind.
Pennel and the others bowed respectfully, and Venneth approached the summoning circle, studying the arcane symbols scrawled neatly across the stone. To the king, he knew, their years of hard work were little more than nonsensical drawings.
“While we have time, I do wish to state some warnings about this, my lord. Tedious as they be, it is still imperative that we keep safety in mind.” He spoke up, the king mumbling something under his breath as he stepped back.
“Of course. Safety is of the highest concern.”
“As you all know very well, there are at least two realms that lie beyond that of our own. Both are alien and hazardous, but they are worlds we have come to know and study. Using the moonlight as a focusing energy, the summoning circle will reach out beyond those realms.” Pennel explained. “We have no idea what lies beyond. These glyphs have been created in order to contain whatever we bring here, at least for a time. Under no circumstance, until we are positive that it is safe, are we to break the circle.”
“Understood.” Each of the group nodded in agreement, his apprentice included, and Pennel responded with a satisfied grunt.
“And you can assure that whatever you call will provide us with the knowledge that we seek?” Venneth questioned him.
“If there is one thing that I can assure you of, my lord…it is that our call beyond will be answered. I only hope it is not of a hostile nature.” Pennel grimaced, his train of thought interrupted as a bright glow began to shine across the balcony. “There! The lunar energies have arrived!”
At first, it was but a faint light that reflected through the first of the mirrors…but as the minutes drew past, that thread of light drew stronger upon itself, refracting on each mirror again and again, until the shining glow of the moon drew itself upon the summoning circle. One by one the glyphs shimmered, the circle finally exploding in a wave of wondrous light, enough to blind Pennel as he covered his gaze, falling backwards from the force of the reaction.
The elderly alchemist was met with silence as he drew himself upwards, letting out a loud cough. His colleagues were besmirched with shock around him, even the king himself, as Pennel laid eyes on the circle, which no longer stood empty.
“…What in the world is that?” Clarice gulped, looking frightened as she looked to him.
The creature in question knelt upon the stone, a naked humanoid with thin arms and jelly-like pale skin. From its misshapen, unnatural head sprouted an array of tentacles, where its mouth would be.
“…Where…am I?” It was a quiet, whispering voice that echoed through Pennel’s head as he hesitated, though it seemed his colleagues heard no voices.
“…You are in Messen, the capital city of Lichor. My name is Master Janin Pennel, and I brought you here from your home beyond the stars.” He spoke calmly, stepping forward cautiously as he discreetly eyed the summoning circle. It seemed intact.
“…An alchemist? Curious.” The creature slowly drew itself upwards, standing tall above them as it regarded Pennel with its black, octopus eyes.
“…How did you know I was…?”
“Your mind is easy to fathom. Simple. Brittle. Not at all what I know.” It answered, though he knew their conversation had long become private. “You summoned me, but for what purpose, I wonder? You are conflicted.”
“Congratulations, Pennel. You did it!” Venneth interrupted their link, a smile on his face as he cautiously approached the alchemist. “Now, how do we communicate with this…creature?”
“You dress as royalty. Are you a king?” It spoke aloud this time, turning his attention to Venneth.
“Yes. I am King Feren Venneth VI, ruler of Lichor. It was at my bidding that you were summoned here.” Venneth nodded, proudly standing before the circle with a self-satisfied smirk.
“What is it you wish of me, Your Majesty?” The creature responded tacitly, ignoring the other alchemists as they nervously spoke to each other.
“I wish for the knowledge that you hold, the key to surpassing this meager world and stepping into a greater realm.” Venneth answered without hesitation, and Pennel reached out, desperately grabbing his arm. “What is it..?!”
“With respect, my lord. Be careful what you ask of him, we do not know what—” Before he could finish, the king shrugged him off, confidently meeting the creature’s gaze.
“And what can you offer in exchange? I cannot give you what I know freely.”
“What is it you wish for? I am a great king, and can offer anything you could desire of this world.”
Pennel felt the creature’s gaze burning into him, his skin crawling.
“I will cup those waters beyond in my hands. I would have sovereignty over what earth is struck by salt.” It answered cryptically. “That is my payment.”
“…That is all you request? A handful of water for a smattering of earth?” Venneth scoffed in disbelief, and the being nodded tacitly.
“My lord, I urge you to consider what you are agreeing to, as we agreed—” Pennel protested again, but the unsheathing of swords behind him silenced him.
“Quiet, alchemist. I’ve waited far too long and paid far too much to stop here.” The king venomously silenced him, a greedy smile consuming his face as he turned back towards the creature.
“For what you have asked, in exchange for the knowledge of the cosmos? I, on my honor as king, agree to your terms.”
"Very well. Here is your payment.” Before the king could react, the being lurched forward, ignoring the circle’s boundaries, its tentacles wrapping tightly around his head as Venneth let out a muffled scream. A glow emanated from its head, transferring into the king.
“My lord!” The two knights drew forth, wielding their blades threateningly…but the creature merely let go of the monarch, letting him fall to the ground. Pennel’s skin crawled as he saw Venneth’s comatose expression, his eyes whitened from the sheer knowledge that had been forced into his head.
“He has received what he asked. The knowledge of the beyond is his…should he ever manage to comprehend it.” Satisfied, it stepped towards Pennel.
“I-I don’t understand…the circle should bind you!” He stepped backwards, shielding Clarice.
“You are but an amateur. Once the adherent agreed to my request…your circle no longer has power over me.” Reaching out with his long, spindly arms, he threw aside the knights with ease. “And now, I claim my payment…punishment for those arrogant enough to attempt to control forces beyond their understanding. Behold!”
Turning towards the horizon, where the ocean lay, the creature reached out, cupping its hands together.
Pennel could only watch in horror as the seabed exploded upwards, a mass of water far surpassing that of any tsunami rushing upwards into an massive orb.
“You would cup the waters beyond in your hands…and claim whatever the salt falls upon.” He repeated, dropping to his knees.
“Whatever it falls upon. History will forget your people, your country, your deaths, and the world will remember your folly only in the ruin left behind, buried deep within the oceans and left to decay.” Drawing its hands back, the creature turned to face Pennel and Clarice as they could only watch, the enormous sphere of water hovering above, only growing as the oceans drew smaller.
Pennel closed his eyes as the creature let go, clutching his apprentice’s hand. It was not her screams, nor the torrent of ocean crashing down, that drew his last thoughts, but the maxim he had spoken only minutes earlier to her.

“All things come at a price, in time.”