1875-04-06: If At First You Don't Succeed
If At First You Don't Succeed
Summary: Alia refuses to accept that failure is her only option.
Date: 1875-04-06
Related: A Relief For Boredom, Fire And Water, Across A Field In Winter, Devil's Tongue.
NPCs: None
Players:
Alia  

There were few places that Alia felt at peace, these days. Places where she could set aside her anger and simply focus on the work to be done. The small study she had made for herself just off of the 'Lady's' chambers which had been set aside for her in Paras' main castle was one of those few places. She didn't dare venture into the actual suite which was being prepared for her use. The household staff was still in the midst of their redecorations. Though the rebuilding of Paras had been all but completed months ago, the chambers just adjacent to Darius' had lain fallow for many months, lacking of course a 'Lady' to occupy them, and the winter had not been kind to them. But it was no use retreating into his chambers either, lest he return to find that she had turned it into a wasteland of smoldering ash, charred wood, and blasted stone.

No, better to wait here, and read, in a place that no one would bother her, and old habits too long ingrained to be broken would prevent her from turning the world around her into a bonfire. Her books were simply too precious, gathered over her many years in Four Corners and what books she had been able to gather since she had departed for Imperial lands.

She had had such high hopes for the tests today. She had worked for weeks, on the preparation of the lacquer she had made from the bark of the devil's tongue she and her alchemists had gathered up on Mount Tharsis. She had tested, retested, sampled and spot treated sections of wood and leather and it had all worked brilliantly. Everything should have been perfect. She knew she had not made a mistake in the preparation. And that was not arrogance. That was knowledge of her abilities honed over decades of hard work and meticulous attention to detail.

The testing ground, too, had been perfect. An unused field, which was not yet ready for replanting, a series of six pieces of lacquer coated armor plates, from cloth to wood, to leather and metal grouped from the smallest sample to the full set of armor in the sixth position. She had spent hours on the application. Allowing it to dry, testing it for even coverage. It should have been perfect. Each had caught the flame she had cast on it, sheeting away or sputtering out. Until she had sent the flame to the full suit of armor and nearly been blown off of her feet from the force of the explosion.

It had all been so perfect. The flame had washed down, run off of the metal and leather like water, sizzling the ground beneath but leaving the armor wholly untouched. And then, for a reason she could not fathom, the lacquer had caught flame, and when it caught it had not simply smoldered, it had combusted with a force she had not imagined possible, and the fragments of leather and plate that had scattered across the field had stubbornly refused to be put out. It had taken nearly the work of two hours to stamp out the last of the flames, and had required a seemingly endless stream of water, sand and soil to quench.

Alia's hand tightened around the coin of lightsilver in her palm, channeling the rage inside of her into the singular bit of metal, forcing her emotions back under her control. It should have worked, the flames should have sheeted off as effortlessly as water off of the scales of a—

Alia rose to her feet, dropping the coin onto the parchment which she used in place of a tablecloth to prevent staining of the wood while she was working, the coin charring its outline into the covering as she skirted the table and headed for the bookcase, fingertips running over the spines until she found the book she was looking for. A treatise on flora and fauna which had alchemical properties. She carried the book back to the table, repocketing the coin which was now quite cool, ignoring the damage she had done to the parchment as she opened and began to read, skimming the pages, flipping them so quickly they made a twipping sound as she turned the pages, the strains of a bard's song running through her head until she got to the page she was looking for. 'On the Ash Serpent.'

She had enough of the devil's tongue to try again, but she had no scales in her supplies. Nor did she know of anyone who might have them at the Guild. Alia frowned, her expression thoughtful now rather than thunderous. She knew of only two ways to find such an ingredient. Venturing into the bowels of the markets in Four Corners and praying that the merchants there were not attempting to sell foul merchandise for fair…or making a trip to Mount Herensurge. And Gendiel was nearly a world away from Paras. There was the carnival of course, but that fair sight had not been seen for many years, at least to her knowledge. And she trusted their merchants no more than she trusted the ones in the back alleys of Four Corners. She would have to try to capture and kill a serpent. It was the only way she could be sure the ingredient was true.

She would need a party of hunters to hunt a great beast.

Thankfully, Alia knew exactly the sort of man who would be willing to take up the challenge.

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