"This is an outrage!" the alchemist screamed through the sun-filled walkways of the outer castle. As he walked by the man’s side, Corco looked past him, down onto the port city. The tall houses of the merchants, red roofs vibrant in the sunshine, spoke of the port city’s prosperity. Truly one of the nicer places on Arcavia, at least from a distance. In another world, it might have been considered a must-see tourist attraction.

"Outraaage!" Hieronymus raised his voice even higher, which slumped Corco’s shoulder. Even Brym who had run up ahead turned around and watched in curiosity, the bag of props still clutched in his arms. It seemed like ignoring the alchemist wouldn’t be an option, so the prince looked towards the quack chemist with the long beard. Before he could answer though, Brym had already done it for him.

"What is an outrage, Master Bombasticus?"

"I will tell you, boy. I am the great Hieronymus Bombasticus, not a jokester who would perform tricks in front of others!" Again. Once again the alchemist complained about his role in their stage acts. They had the same discussion every other city they came through. Still, it was a routine the alchemist insisted on. As always, Corco would play along, just to placate the man.

"Look, you remember the deal we made in Etra, right?"

"..." an uncomfortable look was on his face as his head turned to the side to look out into the sunshine. They left the outer walkway of Eniila Castle and made their path through the outer gardens. Rather than a garden, it was a random assortment of wild grass, flowers and trees. Another sign of the unsophisticated nature of the Arcavians, Corco thought.

"Okay, my turn then," the prince answered for the silent alchemist, "You were willing to give us access to your equipment. We used your still, but you really shouldn’t have stuck around to make sure we don’t steal anything... which we could have done either way, what with three knight-strength men on our side and the one skinny alchemist on yours. Now it’s too late for regrets. Now you know the way to make the brandy, at least somewhat, and we can’t just let you go."

A snort from his left interrupted Corco.

historical

"Just a simple drink, nothing more. A bit of distillation is all it takes. Why would that be a secret worth keeping?"

"You’re still saying that? Today of all days? You saw how the king reacted to that very drink. He went crazy over it. Just how much do you think the nobles of Arcavia are willing to spend on a wine made with instructions from the Lords themselves?"

Visibly uncomfortable, the alchemist began to drag his feet. He should understand very well how much money there would be in the exclusive rights to such a product. Meanwhile, Brym’s eyes sparkled with an "ooooh" at the thought of their revitalizing business empire.

"So really, what choice did you leave us?" Corco continued, "The options were to kill you or take you along. We chose the latter, since we’re such nice people. Now you’re part of our gang of outlaws, as far as Duke Herak is concerned. Means you’re no longer a threat to our business, since your safest place is right here."

The alchemist opened his mouth, but Corco raised his voice first. "And please don’t tell me ’I would prefer death over humiliation’. No cliches, thank you."

Bombasticus closed his mouth and for a while the three walked in silence, further away from the center of power behind them. Only when they had passed the outer wall and fully left the castle did the alchemist pick up the thread of conversation. "Still, there is no need to include me in these embarrassing plays-"

"-acts. It’s stage magic. Well, mentalism, really."

"Whatever it is, sire could just as well have some of his friends assist him."

One brow raised, Corco returned a bemused look. "Have the giants play magician? No thank you. That sounds like a terrible idea for everyone involved. Not like we didn’t try anyways. Fadelio can play the role, but he lacks the finger speed for the kind of stuff you do. As for Atau..."

"...yes, better not have your cousin take part in any more performances, big brother." Brym finished the sentence with a shudder.

"Plus, you’ve got talent for this stuff. You’re good at it. Got the whole flamboyance part down pat and your alchemic knowledge gives you all the tricks you need to bamboozle your way to the top."

Finally, their goal had come into view: A shabby old stable, put outside the castle for the oxcarts. The accommodations the royals of Eniila had blessed them with.

"Just look at this treatment. How unsuited for a great alchemist. I might be forced to play along, but there is no reason for me to enjoy it."

"Of course not," Corco smiled. He understood very well how much fun Hieronymus had during their travels, but especially so during their performances. "It’s only a few more times now. After today, we’ll camp out here for a few nights and wait for our names to spread out with the traders and bards. From then on, it’s only kings and queens for us. Another eight or so countries and we’re back to Borna. Then you’ll be free of your magic duties."

The door to the stable was opened with a creak. The first thing Corco noticed through the stench of the inside was the strange visitor they had received, hidden within the straw on the ground.

"Who’s this?" Corco asked towards the back of the room in a stern voice. With great curiosity, he studied the man who lay on the floor before him, tied up and gagged. They really shouldn’t just let prisoners stick around all by themselves.

"Ah, Laqhis. Welcome back." Atau came from the back room while wiping his hands with a silk cloth, his beard neatly trimmed as always. "How’d the performance go?"

"...who’s this." Corco ignored the question. The bound stranger seemed more important for now.

"Just another one of Herak’s people. That’s... the third this month?" Atau kicked the prisoner’s foot. In reaction, a few muffled sounds escaped from his mouth as he squirmed around.

"He’s not gonna let up, is he?" Corco concluded. "Maybe it’s high time for the duke to learn that he can’t just send normal people to deal with a group of cultivators."

"He better not learn anything," Brym said with a shudder.

"Therein lies a further problem. Even when I agreed to come along, I could never fathom that the Duke would hate your group this much. I mean, assassins? When would a great alchemist have to deal with this sort of violence?" Until now, Hieronymus had stayed silent, but finally he broke and promptly began to complain again.

"Look friend, we know that you have your own trouble with the Borna nobles. No need to push the attacks only onto us," Atau complained right back.

"How..." The alchemists whisper was accompanied by his widening eyes.

"The great alchemist talks in his sleep." A grin forced its way onto Atau’s face, and Corco was soon infected. "Isn’t that how it is, oh great Alchemist Ronald Bakeling."

Ronald’s face first turned white and then red, his great secret revealed. How could a great alchemist have such a mundane name? Meanwhile, Atau’s laugh rang throughout the stable, while Corco and Brym doubled over and held their stomachs, a futile attempt to suppress their own fits and not insult their companion any further. The donkeys in the background, meanwhile, were completely unfazed by the noise. At least in this area, donkeys were much better than horses, was what Corco thought.

"That’s enough. I will see if the large one doesn’t botch the alchemic work again." And thus, the great alchemist, embarrassed by their laughter, marched off into the back of the stable, were the escaping vapor told of Fadelio’s work for the day.

"Ah, I wanna see too!" Curious as ever, Brym ran after the sulking Ronald.

Once his body had recovered from the quivering fits of laughter, Corco released the tension in his body with a satisfied sigh. In contrast, Atau had begun to frown as he looked down on the overenthusiastic would-be headhunter.

"Still, are you sure we should go back to Etra? You know Herak is no idiot. The only reason we haven’t seen anyone with ability go after us is because we’ve been moving away from Borna all this time, away from the danger. The half year is up now and we’ve reached all the way to the north-east coast. It’s time to move back across the continent, which leads us right into Herak’s arms."

A nod from Corco confirmed Atau’s assessment. "You’re not wrong. It seems needlessly dangerous, going back to Etra and setting up shop there. Still, it has to be done, just like this. The closer we are to Herak, the more he believes he has control and the more likely he is to make a mistake."

Corco marched over to their own wagon, beyond the donkeys, with his cousin in tow.

"And we can’t just take him out?"

Corco looked back towards the distant prisoner. From this far away, he wouldn’t hear anything anymore.

"Commoners killing a lord? You wanna get the church on our asses? No, we have to be more subtle and let the lords solve it among themselves. Look at this."

Corco pulled out a little leather sack from one of his pockets, weighed down by the metal inside. "All gold coins. That’s not payment though. It’s a gift. The overjoyed King Sabian handed it over, in gratitude. You asked earlier how today’s act went? They were going crazy over the brandy, especially the men."

Corco went to the back of their boxy wagon, where he unlocked the secret mechanism and slid open the trick-door. Within he found the short barrels in which their brandy was being matured and, wedged in the gaps, the leftover gold from the old Fastgrade stash. For the first time since the start of their journey, it was time to add to it, rather than take away.

"That’s great news. We were running low, you know. You’ve been spending far too much."

"You gotta spend money to make money. Give it another month and everyone in Arcavia will know our names. Then what do you think will happen if Duke Herak dares to attack a messenger of the Lords, the only one to provide the heavenly drink?"

The secret stash closed off again, the cousins walked towards the back of the room as well, towards the vapor.

"Well, I have to say. Even if your plan wasn’t any better than killing the Duke outright, at least it’s a whole lot funnier." Atau grinned as he opened the door to the back, a little annex they had slept in last night and would continue to sleep in over the next few days. When Corco stepped into the room, a wave of warm air made his head turn to the side. He could feel the humidity on his exposed hands and face. Clearly, the warriors had been hard at work as well.

"Boss, Ronnie says it went well?" Fadelio’s hopeful voice reached Corco, who opened his eyes and looked towards the warrior, sitting on the floor and hunched over a bubbling pot. Meanwhile, Ronnie sat on the far wall, too engrossed in his sulking to even react to the name.

"Any luck today?"

"We’ll know soon. The last batch is evaporating right now. I still got no idea how this is gonna help us though. So far we’ve had no success." Still staring into the pot, Fadelio answered. Corco followed his example and found that most of the water had disappeared by now. It wouldn’t even be a minute more until they had the results.

"What do you mean you have no idea? It’s just more leaching, right? Nothing new," Brym asked.

"Yeah, but leaching vegetables? We’re not exactly gonna get a weapon out of this, are we?" Atau chimed in as he took a seat in the corner, one long leg stretched over the ground.

"We’re not looking for a weapon. Well, in a way we are I guess. It’s the most potent weapon of them all, really." Corco’s face widened into a grin as he saw the last of the water disappear and leave behind a light-brown film on the bottom of the pot. This might just be it, and in such quantity too. Every place they had stopped, they had tried leaching every single root vegetable they could find. Without question, without fault. All in search for the precious contents before them right now.

Fadelio took a wooden spoon from the side, something meant for stirring rather than eating, but it fit the oversized warrior’s hand perfectly. He dipped the spoon into the still liquid mass and brought it to his face. Under the tense gazes of the men around him, Fadelio blew on the mass a few times before he tried the results, without fear. Immediately, his eyes opened wide in surprise. The spoon left his mouth again with a plop.

"It’s... sweet?" He said as he stared up at Corco’s wide grin.

"Guys, meet our second main product: Sugar. From the amount we’ve produced, these roots aren’t anywhere near as good as sugar beets, but it’ll do just fine. Soon, we’ll need more than just a wagon to fit our gold."