The Demon Lord and his Hero

When Syryn was back in Alka's apartment, a delivery awaited him. One heavy wooden crate that had his name on it sat at the kitchen table.

Magnus was by the window watering one of Alka's numerous potted plants. Lucien, who was beside Magnus, also had his own miniature watering can that was shaped like a succulent with a red flower on top. Syryn thought it suited the little boy.

"Luci, come sleep with me tonight." Syryn absent-mindedly told the boy while his fingers moved around the wrappings of the crate. His day to day responsibilities had been keeping Syryn busy enough that he wasn't spending as much time with the boy anymore. Syryn planned to rectify that immediately.

Lucien nodded and wiped his wet hands against the small apron that Magnus had tied around the child's waist. He then came running to Syryn and stood at his feet, cute red eyes solemnly looking up at his big brother. Stretching out his small arms, Lucien waited for Syryn to pick him up.

Magnus watched the dark-haired boy smile at the redhead affectionately. With a gentle swing of his arms, Syryn had picked up Lucien. The fire mage set aside his watering can and swaggered over to the duo so he could peer into the crate that had appeared quietly at their door.

A small paper card that was stuck to the crate displayed the crest of Winter Fortress. It was an exact copy of the Cygnus constellation stitched to the anti mage robes.

"This has to be from Rowan," Magnus idly commented. Syryn prodded the crate with his magic and when he found no traps, the lid was swung open to reveal its contents.

Magnus whistled at the sight of the items inside the crate. "Must be nice being Syryn," he drawled.

Syryn licked his lips nervously when he saw the goods that Rowan had sent him. What stood out amongst the pile of precious alchemy kits was a cauldron made entirely of pyroclastic metal of the highest quality. On the inside of it, Syryn could see the engravings of magic that would protect the alchemist from harmful accidents which included explosions and corrosive fumes.

"Magnus, did we accidentally take someone else's delivery?"

"Even if we did, I'm not letting you return it," Magnus replied.

From right next to the cauldron, Syryn picked up a mortar from a set of three. Each bowl was uniquely and carefully designed with the right texture and material for suiting the requirements of the ingredients that needed grinding. The outer surfaces of the mortars were uniformly made of the same beautiful ivory-coloured Petrified snow wood that came as hard as granite. Syryn wanted to punch Rowan and at the same time fall to his knees in gratitude.

A set of knives that looked like products of dwarven make, five phials that protected their contents through a stasis spell, a bag of extremely rare ingredients that Syryn was itching to use, a glass jar where a single wispy cloud of light floated in it - Syryn ignored it lest he burst a vessel in his heart from excitement - and the heavy bag that contained far too many crowns for what his first potion delivery had been worth! Syryn had been conquered thoroughly by Rowan's gifts.

"I think," Magnus said with careful mildness, "he's trying to make a point. I don't know what it is but I'm sure it has to do with proving his ability to be a generous patron to you."

Syryn's scalp had gone numb from Magnus' words. He slammed the lid shut and drank a glass of water that Lucien kindly offered.

"Hey, what was in the box?" Alka came striding towards them in formal robes. A single button undone at the neck managed to loosen the stiffness of the robes into something more relaxed.

"Take a look at it yourself. Where are you off to anyway?" Syryn asked. The bell at their door rang at that moment and Alka hurried towards it letting his friends know he would be out for dinner with his family.

Alka swung the door open to reveal Syryn's new teacher looking a little less tired than he had appeared during their conversation. Standing side by side, Syryn could finally see the differences and similarities between the brothers. While they shared the same elegant bone structure, Alka with his bright green eyes and soft wavy hair appeared more vivid next to Artemus who reminded Syryn of cool night skies illuminated by a crescent moon.

Alka had not informed his brother about their living arrangements, Syryn surmised. There was some surprise in the lifting of Artemus' brows when he glanced at the alchemist.

"Brother, you don't look very well." Alka stood before his older brother, chin lifted, and observed his older brother's countenance with a calmness that seemed to run in the family.

Artemus smiled faintly at his little brother, "It's just tiredness Alka. We can catch up later. Mother is waiting for us." With a nod towards Syryn and Magnus, Artemus lead his brother to the hound coach that was faster than any horse-pulled carriage in the kingdom.

"Artemus is a lying liar," Magnus said under his breath. He then looked at Syryn with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm not letting you have Luci tonight just so you know." Magnus smirked at Syryn. "Where Luci goes, I go."

"You have no claim to Luci," Syryn argued knowing the futility of it.

"Debate later, dinner preparation first," Magnus replied.

"Syryn, I want to eat grilled squid with creamy potato soup and sticky pineapple buns." He shamelessly listed his desired menu to a disbelieving Syryn. When had he become Magnus' personal chef?

"Which part of me looks like I give a shit about what you want to eat?" Syryn narrowed his eyes at the fire mage.

"Language Syryn. I'll take Luci for a bath while you make dinner for the three of us." He aimed his bullshit grin at Syryn and gave him no chance to refuse when Lucien jumped off a chair and landed in the waiting hands of Magnus. It took considerable will on Syryn's end not to hurl a chair at Magnus' back.

Syryn had capitulated to Magnus' demands with a resignation that came from his will being gradually chipped away by the slick words of the fire mage. One of these days he would make a stand for himself but today just wasn't it. He blew out an annoyed sigh and went to work in the kitchen. And later when dinner was served, Syryn watched Magnus finish the food with an enthusiasm that promised no leftovers. He thought that it wasn't so bad to feed their resident animal once every few days.

Lucien, who had managed to tuck away a big portion of dinner, sported a bulging stomach. To remedy it, Magnus and Syryn took the redhead out for a walk by the canal whose sparkling clean waters ambled through the city and past Alka's apartment. It was still early enough that a vendor selling candied fruits sat by his stall and called out to his two loyal customers.

"Magnus, I dare you to try my patience tonight. Go ahead." Syryn's smile was pleasant, eyes curved into crescents.

Magnus lifted the red-headed boy and used him as a shield to hide behind. "Luci, your brother looks scary."

The boys spent a good amount of time walking through their sleepy neighbourhood. Spent from the walk, the sandman snuck up on them quickly. By the time Lucien began to nod off, Syryn was already asleep on one side of the boy on their makeshift bed. Magnus watched their chests rise and fall with sleep as he waited for Alka to come home.

Alka did not come home that night.

___________

"Young Syryn, the cauldrons that you requested are here. I'm quite the excited old man today! It's the first time I've ever had a contracted alchemist make such a demand." Due to his extenuating circumstances, Syryn was given a day off every weekday to use for the satisfaction of his contractual obligations.

Under normal circumstances, there would be a group of at least 20 other alchemists on their work tables, assisting the head alchemist, i.e. Syryn. But this time-consuming method had a wasteful effort to output ratio, and this low evaluation did not even include the mismatch in quality of potions. No, Syryn had a better idea.

"I wasn't sure you'd agree to it Head Magister. Thank you for accepting my request so readily." Syryn was grateful to Lord Peltner for accomodating his bizarre wishes.

Three enormous cauldrons the height of a house each had been tailor-made according to Syryn's specifications. The dangers that came with falling into the cauldron and getting cooked in the potion were circumvented by a safety harness that anchored the climber to the heat-insulated ladder. A long wooden ramp above the cauldrons allowed him to walk back and forth observing the potions. Now all that was left to do was for Syryn's assistants to pump in and dump ingredients into the cauldrons under his instructions.

Why this was never done before lay in the difficulty of creating big batches of potions without compromising on quality. Syryn had the confidence that was backed up by in-depth knowledge and experience of alchemy. For the more volatile potions, he had a separate smaller cauldron to work with but those weren't needed in big amounts.

"Syryn, this is a brilliant idea. Winter Fortress must take a tour of our facilities." Lord Peltner's eyes were alight with a competitive spirit. "The Lord Chancellor and her alchemist Salem will receive an invitation after we've tested out your wonderful plan. I do not doubt that your ability to make very good quality potions but as with every new contraption, we must refine the design."

His enthusiasm was infectious enough that Syryn felt the stirrings of excitement for this project. There was also another experiment he needed to carry out and it involved Artemus. He made a mental note to inform the stoic young man about meeting him for an in-depth medical examination.