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Memoir of an Alchemist – Part 01

“I’ve stolen a garden. It isn’t mine. It isn’t anybody’s. Nobody wants it, nobody cares for it, nobody ever goes into it. Perhaps everything is dead in it already.”

—Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

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Prologue: The Illusion of the Black Tower

A monochrome world, black and white as day and night.

Atop a hill on the outskirts of the village, a black tower stood in the darkness of night, illuminated by the faint, pale light of the hazy moon.

The black tower’s pointed roof seemed to pierce the night sky. A huge round clock on the tower indicated the time with its two jet-black, sickle-shaped hands.

There was not a soul around.

It was a silent, ominous night.

A black carriage came up the hill, disturbing the darkness. The horses neighed as thunder rumbled in the night sky.

The carriage stopped, and a woman in black disembarked. She tried to say something, but the driver paid no attention and wheeled the carriage back down the hill.

The woman stood alone, bewildered. After another thunderous roar, cold rain pelted down on her like arrows, and she took off.

To the black tower.

Two square windows, like eyes, gazed coldly at the woman. White flashes inside made it seem like a monster blinking.

The woman let herself get sucked into the black tower.

The interior was like a manufacturing plant straight out of a nightmare.

A dark room cloaked in gray, it had the same round shape as the tower itself.

It was hollow above, the ceiling shrouded in pitch-black darkness. Looking up was like staring into a bottomless abyss. It was hard to tell which way was up or down.

Like a sword cutting through darkness, something was slowly moving from right to left. The air shook. A huge pendulum was swinging back and forth, whistling ominously.

In the corner of the room, four huge mechanisms made odd grating noises. Gears turned endlessly.

The woman in black slowly entered the room and looked around in horror.

She removed her black veil, revealing a young face. She had hair and eyes of an indiscernible color. Underneath her thick cloak was a pure-white dress.

She surveyed the room fearfully, frowned at the clock and pendulum. When she spotted the ebony table, she rushed toward it.

The table was littered with books and laboratory equipment. Just as the woman picked them up and began searching for something, a puff of white smoke rose in the middle of the room.

The woman failed to notice it. The smoke took on a human shape.

When she finally turned around, she saw a monster standing there, wearing an eerie mask and a robe.

The woman screamed. Her lips moved to form words.

Forgive me, Master of the Black Clocktower!

I desperately need your help.

My father is sick and dying.

The masked man stepped closer.

The woman’s frail figure trembled with fear.

Slowly, the man raised one gloved hand, grabbed his mask, and spoke.

O’ fair maiden!

Lay your eyes upon my curse.

Behold the wretched face of an immortal man!

The man’s mask slowly peeled away and fell from his hands to the dark floor, swallowed by the shadow of the giant pendulum.

The woman’s beautiful face contorted in shock and horror.

This is the truth of immortality!

The woman’s eyes widened. She brought her snow-white palm to her face and groaned. The man’s hand moved to her throat. She started choking.

The woman staggered and fell on the floor. Her bare shoulders quivered. The man stood there, shrouded by the shadow of the pendulum, looking down at her.

The shadow shifted, and white light shone on the man.

The woman cried out in horror.

What horrible secret your mask hides!

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Chapter 1: Memoirs of an Alchemist

In a dark room, villagers in their chairs watched with bated breath at the black-and-white images projected on the screen.

The monster in the black tower was about to take off its mask and reveal its terrifying face.

The music swelled.

People had gathered today in the village’s small movie theater—a small abandoned theater that the young villagers renovated—to watch a horror movie titled ‘The Illusion of the Black Tower’. Among the villagers dressed in their cotton outfits was a girl in stylish clothing and her companion, an oriental boy. They were students of St. Marguerite Academy, a school for children of aristocrats located on the outskirts of the village.

The girl, slender with short blond hair, had been glued to the screen for some time. The boy, on the other hand, had been sitting with his back straight like a warrior for nearly an hour, his eyes tightly closed… sleeping quietly.

When the woman’s words appeared on the screen, the villagers stirred.

“What horrible secret your mask hides!”

The blonde girl—Avril Bradley—swallowed.

With a loud sound effect, the monster’s face finally appeared on the screen.

Avril screamed and threw the brown box she was holding. Chocolate chip cookies flew toward the ceiling. Avril strangled the sleeping Kazuya.

“A skeletooooon!!!”

Kazuya jumped awake. The people behind yelled at them to sit down. Some commented about the falling cookies. Kazuya bowed deeply, apologized, picked up the cookies, and sat back down again. He glanced at Avril.

She was staring at the screen with her mouth open and eyes twinkling. Kazuya stared at her childish face for a while, then smiled, fixed his posture, and softly closed his eyes.

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The year was 1924.

The Kingdom of Sauville, a small nation in Europe.

Lush green mountains, lakes, and vast forests marked its border with Switzerland. An endless expanse of vineyards sprawled on its border with France. A beautiful summer resort facing the Mediterranean Sea separated it from Italy. Surrounded by powers, this small kingdom survived the last Great War and was called the little giant of Western Europe because of its long and grand history, power, and its influence on the great nations.

If the Gulf of Lyon was the grand entrance to the kingdom, the Alps were the secret attic hidden in the deepest part of the country. At the foot of the mountains lay a small village, a beautiful and peaceful place known for its wine and fruits. On the outskirts of the village was a mysterious school that had stood since the Middle Ages.

St. Marguerite Academy.

Known as the educational institution for the children of aristocracy, it held many a mysteries. Some believed that secrets of the small, mysterious, and powerful kingdom were hidden in this school. After the end of the war, the secretive academy began accepting gifted students from allied countries as international students.

Kazuya Kujou was an international student from one of these allied countries, an island nation in the Orient. He had been selected for his excellent grades and good conduct. Excited about his new life, he crossed the sea to this kingdom, leaving his family and some part of him behind.

Kazuya’s life as an exchange student was filled with the prejudices of the nobility, the peculiar horror stories that pervaded the academy, language and cultural barriers, his meeting with a strange and beautiful girl, Victorique de Blois, and their adventures together.