И да пребудут Эфиры в равновесии. Пять Эфиров - основа практической алхимии, и надлежит чтить их нерушимо. Одним называют их "стихиями", другие — "Эйдолонами", третьи — иными, тайными именами. Но суть их неизменна: Эфиры суть чистые первозданные силы мироздания. Воздух, Земля, Огонь, Вода и Молния. Аэрос, Террос, Игнис, Аквос и Фульгор. Чти Эфиры — и они послужат тебе верно...
-Отрывок из "Практической алхимии" Р. Дягилёва
Руслав Дягилёв проснулся от гула космоса в ушах. К нему примешивался мягкий переливчатый звон жидких часов — подарка на прошлый день рождения. С трудом разлепив веки, он сел, встречая холод осеннего утра. Первые осторожные лучи света пробирались сквозь шторы; спустив ноги с кровати, он оглядел комнату.
По ту стороны в дистилляторах лениво побулькивали слабо светящиеся жидкости. Мягкое оранжевое и голубое сияние струилось по стеклянным трубкам, перетекая из одного сосуда в другой. Дягилёв кряхтя поднялся и зашаркал к лабораторному столу, по пути касаясь панели на стене — над головой загорелись матовые янтарные светильники.
Уголки его губ дрогнули в улыбке, когда шары света медленно разгорались, превращая комнату из царства теней в мир глубокого барельефа, где каждый предмет обретал объем. Луч, скользнув по рабочему столу, высветил знакомый хаос: стопки тетрадей, обрывки рецпетов, формулы. Доска, испещренная угловатым почерком, еще хранила матовый отблеск стертого мела.
Усталой рукой Руслав повернул вентиль горелки под колбой со слабо мерцающей голубой жидкостью. Содержимое забулькало активнее, и избыток, переливаясь через край, медленно закапал в коричневый расствор самой большой реторты. Помешивая стеклянной палочкой, он бормотал что-то на языке, который знали немногие, а произносить вслух решались и вовсе единицы. По мере чтения заклинания смесь из темно-коричневой превратилась в светлую, с золотистым отливом. Дягилёв усмехнулся и, приоткрыв клапан, направил часть жидкости в глиняный кувшин.
Он поднес сосуд к губам. Напиток коснулся языка, и по лицу его расплылось удовлетворение. Ах, наконец-то получилось; нейтрализовать Эфир Аэроса. Теперь на вкус как настоящий кофе. Усталость и раздражение от раннего пробуждения растворялись по мере того, как зелье вступало в силу.
Руслав Дягилёв, алхимик Седьмого Круга, стоял у окна своей мастерской, глядя на заснеженный пейзаж. Кивнув самому себе, он сделал еще один глоток, прежде чем поставить кувшин обратно на стол.
...Алхимия, как и всякая наука, имеет законы. Правила. Сии законы и правила порой могут гнуться, но незыблемы они, подобно устоям физики. И если науки о материальном полезны в делах мирских, то необходимость сдерживать алхимические аномалии требует особого постижения искусств алхимических...
-Отрывок из "Пути Запечатывания" М.Р. Тиссарта
Первое в истории упоминание "Аномалий"
Спустя несколько часов Р. Дягилёв — как гласил его бейджик — сидел, сгорбившись в машине, затерявшейся в очереди на въезд в Зону 79. Снег усиливался с каждой минутой, и Руслав раздраженно вздохнул. Вечно эти хлопья цеплялись за подол его мантии. Из-за непогоды очередь растянулась необычно далеко, а печка в салоне уже не справлялась с холодм так, как раньше.
Наконец Руслав подъехал к КПП и молча протянул охраннику удостоверение. Их взгляды встретились — в глазах мужчины мелькнула едва заметная усмешка. Тот лениво провёл карту через сканер и вернул её.
— Всё в порядке. Можете проезжать.
Руслав подавил вздох, ощущая на себе насмешливый взгляд охранника. Он давно привык к таким взглядам и такому своеобразному уважению со стороны коллег.
Он встал на свое парковочное место, выбрался из машины и сквозь зубы выругался на снег, устилавший землю парковки. Расчистив небольшой участок ботинком, он отсчитал 88 шагов, а затем тихо произнес формулу. Младший научный сотрудник уставился на него, едва не сбив концентрацию. Возможно, парень и не впечатлился мантией Руслава, но после заклинания снег перестал цепляться за её подол. Уголки губ ученого дрогнули в лёгкой улыбке — он мылсенно поблагодарил Эфир Аэроса за помощь.
Он шёл по коридорам, где мягкое шуршание его одеяний контрастировало с чётким стуком ботинок исследователей и лёгким цоканьем каблуков. Его собственные башмаки, ярко-фиолетовые и грубой выделки, были изготовленны по древним алхимическим рецептам еще годы назад. Тёплые, водонепроницаемые и бесшумные, они заслужили ему прозвище "Виноградная нога" от университетский приятелей. Впрочем, он же алхимик, а не сапожник.
Войдя в кабинет, Руслав облегчённо вздохнул, достал из складок мантии телефон и подключил его к компьютеру для зарядки. Он пробормотал благодарность Эфиру Фульгора и проклятие в адрес Apple за короткое время работы батареи.
Кабинет был сугубо функционален: рабочие столы, на одном из которых красовалась система дистилляции-редукции, голые бетонные стены и единственная дверь — в лабораторию, соединенную с кабинетом коллеги. Аскетизм помещения мдеально гармонировал с характером хозяина. Взгляд Руслава скользнул по настенному календарю у стола — с котиками. Уголки его губ вновь дрогнули.
Устроившись за рабочим столом, он принялся разбирать утренние письма. В Фонде всегда хватало бюрократической ерунды.
...и ныне нам, Мудрым, надлежит стать защитниками мира. Фонд — наш последний оплот, дабы навеки отсечь влияние Сущностей. Посему предлагаю действовать без промедления: создать Великую Печать и навеки преградить путь вторжениям в нашу реальность...
- Отрывок из "Воззвания к Деянию" Р. Дягилёва
Когда пробил двенадцатый час, в животе Руслава заурчало от голода, и он отложил отчет о зелье из патоки, с помощью которого один известный американец достиг бессмертия. Сделав несколько последних пометок в своих записях, он поднялся, потянувшись и зевнув во всю ширь своих могучих плеч.
Медленно, с нарастающей усталостью, он направился в столовую. Утреннее зелье, должно быть, переставало действовать. Он тихо понадеялся, что приготовил запас хотя бы на пару недель. Ведь столь удачное сочетание факторов вряд ли в скором времени повторится еще раз.
По пути он заметил доктора Коллинза, тоже направлявшегося в столовую, и слегка помахал ему рукой. Доктор оглянулся, улыбнулся и подождал, пока Руслав поравняется с ним, после чего они зашагали вдвоём.
— Рад тебя видеть, Руслав. Хорошо провел выходные? — спросил Коллинз.
Ruslav nodded, and smiled at Dr. Collins, "Yes. My philter finally came into the proper solution this morning. I was very happy to say that it worked without any difficulty." Ruslav took a left turn towards the cafeteria, the sounds of conversation filling the off-white hallways.
They joined a small crowd on the escalators up to level 3, to the cafeteria. It opened out into the expansive, and tastefully decorated cafeteria level. They had remodeled recently, the dark glass looking out over fields of snow-covered grass. The dark tile of the floor complemented the subtle burgundy of the walls. All colors Ruslav found pleasing.
Dr. Collins smiled at Ruslav, as they walked towards the serving area. "Congratulations, Ruslav. I had hoped it would happen soon. Is this the same super coffee you were discussing before?" Dr. Collins got into the line for the hot buffet, and grabbed a tray, loading up a couple of plates with his usual starchy fare. He had gained a few pounds recently, stress eating due to a recent project.
Ruslav grabbed his own tray, loading it up with a mix of vegetables, a light salad, and a large piece of some pink fish, pretending to be salmon. "Yes. I am happy to say it works properly. This morning was significantly easier." He grabbed up a small tray of cookies, his one indulgence, and headed to the top of the line.
Dr. Collins flashed his ID to pay for his lunch, and Ruslav did the same, the two of them heading for an empty table, nearby. Several other researchers waved to Dr. Collins, and the two sat down, digging into lunch with abandon. The other tables were rapidly filling up, but Ruslav and Dr. Collins had one of the smaller round tables to themselves.
His dark brown robes stood out from the white-coated researchers, but they did every day. They made small talk for a few minutes, before a young researcher stepped up to their table looking eager and bright eyed, "Dr. Collins? I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about the new research topics you had suggested last week?"
Dr. Collins looked up, and quickly swallowed the bite he was chewing through, "Of course Daniel. This is Ruslav Diaghilev, one of the members of the Alchemy Division." Ruslav looked up to meet the eyes of the young man displaying the usual mix of confusion and surprise.
"How do you do young man." Ruslav held out one large hand, shaking the younger mans hand firmly.
"Ahh, good, good, it's nice to meet you Dr. Diaghilev." Daniel said a little too fast, not particularly covering up his confusion very well.
"I am not a doctor, but I understand the confusion. Mister, or if you're being very formal, Elder is the appropriate title." He tried to hide his grimace as the usual look of incredulity passed over the young man's features.
Dr. Collins looked over at Ruslav, and quirked his head, "If I heard right, you guys are getting a new hire today. Unless Jamesson was talking out his ass again." He scooped up his last bite of pasta, and leaned back.
Ruslav's eyebrows raised, the deep lines on his face creasing. "New Hire? I wasn't aware we were getting new apprentices anymore." And I hadn't realized anyone could even feel the currents anymore He thought to himself. "I will have to consult my colleagues."
Dr. Collins rose, escorting Daniel away, "Till next time Ruslav, enjoy your studies!"
...В связи с вышеизложенным, Отделу Алхимии вменяется в обязанность обеспечение сдерживания и сохранения режима секретности в отношении Инициативы [УДАЛЕНО]. Все сведения об алхимии подлежат полной дискредитации. Обслуживание защитных структур, включая печати, круги и прочее алхимическое оборудование, возлагается на руководителей Отдела Алхимии — Р. Дягилёва и М. Адебайо...
-Отрывок из "Плана мероприятий Совета О5" №[УДАЛЕНО]
The quiet walk back to his office was uneventful. Upon reaching his door, he heard a quiet tingling, a soft sound like water upon a starlit lake. He closed his eyes, growing lost in the sound, the Aequeous Aether speaking to him in the deepest language the universe offered.
It was soon, a convergence. He would be able to access both the Aequeous and the Aeronous. It was finally time to begin the next steps in his processes.
He hurried to the lab, where his only colleague Elder Adebayo stood, his coal-black skin a stark contrast to the, if he was honest with it, tacky milk-white robes he wore all the time. The walls of the lab were unlike any other room in the site. From top to bottom, copper chisels had been used to inscribe it with formulae of containment, order, and protection.
Ruslav and Adebayo had prepared this room over sixteen painstaking months, using various convergence events, and stored Aether where necessary. This room was the Alchemical equivalent of a bomb shelter, and the only place they dared to work any significant research.
The walls were lined with tables, containing several decanter-reduction systems, wind-flow apparatus, a few burners, and even a fine earth separator.
Mounted on one wall was a solid wooden holder, which contained two heavy Croziers. One of brass, and wood belonging to Adebayo, the other of cold iron and lead belonging to Ruslav. Across from the crozier stand was a set of three concentric circles set in the floor. The first was polished, inscribed copper, the second was cold iron, the last was the finest and most delicate gold. The materials for the last circle had been transmuted from pure aether to common lead, then to gold.
"You felt it too, Ruslav?" The rich syllables of the Third Language flowed from his lips, his mellifluous accent blending perfectly with the interplay of light and dark in the phonemes, his hands spread over the wind-flow measures and pinwheels on his desk.
He felt the swirling currents, as he hurried to the equipment along the wall. He adjusted several knobs, and the liquids began to bubble, already taking on a soft glow. "Of course, I felt it. Where are you in the harness of the Aeronous?" Adebayo's specialty lay in the Aeronous Aether, and Ruslav would be significantly more comfortable in the Aequeous.
Adebayo's hands spread slightly, as he switched to the Second Language, approaching the beginnings of the True Language quickly. "I am almost there. Could you bring me the circle of Aeronous Binding?"
Ruslav nodded, and picked up a copper circlet, inscribed with various symbols occult organizations had cribbed from ancient alchemists in centuries past.
"We're going to renew the thirteenth seal, this time, yes?" Ruslav placed the circlet on Adebayo's head, crowning his shaved scalp.
"Yes. The creature made a noise a few months ago, and we need to make sure it's held. The seal is almost in the fullness of its shape. With this, we can—" A sudden crack of Aether sped through the lab, disrupting the energies shaped by the words of the second language. The Fulminous Aether surged quickly, pushing back against the ritual motions and words.
From the currents of the unseen, a laughing sound could be heard. Accompanying the electric energy of the Fulminous Aether was an empty feeling. The feeling of chaining and binding, of energies reflected and amplified. Ruslav knew that feeling well. The laughter echoed in the paths of his memory, as his eyebrows narrowed, his teeth setting in a snarl.
The Scarlet King was bucking his seal, and attempting to push back against Ruslav, and Adebayo.
Ruslav's hands blurred, as he drew the simple iron circle from the space under his lab desk, and tossed it into the air. His hands spread, as he began to chant in the First Language, one step removed from the True Language.
The iron circle stayed suspended in the air for a moment before bouncing, and landing on its side, slowly spinning around, on its side.
Adebayo's head burst into sweat, as the Aether's compressed. "They are pushing back. I do not know how long—" his words were strained now, the Second Language's powers being stretched to their limits.
Ruslav's voice rang out like thunder, and he pulled his hands to his sides, his fists clenched. "YOU WILL NOT DISRUPT OUR WORK, TODAY. I PUSH YOU BACK TO WHENCE YOU ARE. BEGONE SCARLET KING!" With a sudden crack of thunder the building energies flowed into the iron circle, grounding harmlessly into the hand-forged iron. The laughter turned to a snarling sound of pain, as the chains around the entity went taut again, pulling it tight. All went quiet, except for Elder Adebayo's chanting.
Several minutes passed, as Ruslav's breath came back to him. The effort required to banish the Fulminous Aether gathered by the Scarlet King to push against their ritual had been staggering, but he'd forced it into the circle at last, the energies contained within the ring of purified metal. Shaped by hand, with the right rituals, nothing could break it in the Aether. Only a mortal hand could undo the energies stored there now, and even then, they would need to be significantly gifted in the Art.
Ruslav struggled over to the lab desk, and put his hands to work on the Aequeous harness for the ritual. The waters and philters bubbled, as he spoke quietly in the Second Language, his words blending with Adebayo's, and forming a harmonious chorus.
The energies of the Aether poured into the small vial of purified water, creating truly elemental water. He held it gingerly between two fingers, and brought it to Adebayo's station. "Elemental Water. This will reinforce the seal perfectly. Did you get yours?"
He held up a small pinwheel, brightly colored like a child's toy. The ultra-fine inscriptions on the blades were near invisible to the naked eye. It spun slowly, with small air currents flowing around it. "Of course, Elder. I will perform the ritual tonight. Our colleagues in Vienna, and Casa Verde should have the Fire, and Earth required."
A quiet knock on the door drew both of their attention, to the small crowd of onlookers. Several of them had hands over their mouths, trying not to laugh.
Ruslav's heart dropped. They couldn't feel a single thing of what just happened. To them, it was two old men screaming at nothing, and pantomiming.
"What?" He growled, his hands shaking with exhaustion, and his mind filled with annoyance.
"Your uh...new hire is here. Mike sent me to get you, Mister Diaghilev." Ruslav narrowed his eyes. It was the young man from lunch. Daniel. He sighed heavily.
"Of course. Thank you." He shuffled off silently, his shoes completely silent.
The last thing he heard was Daniel's voice under his breath, "What's up with the purple shoes?"
...Зачем мы держим этих людей? Понимаю, что мы работаем с аномальным, но эти люди явно мошенники. Они просто тратят ресурсы Фонда. Суммы, которые они тратят на чистую медь, просто возмутительны...
-Отрывок из электронного письма Директора Зоны [УДАЛЕНО]
The rumors were true then. Ruslav turned, and headed towards the front gate, nodding at the various doctors, security staff, and administrative staff he passed. Most of them didn't give him odd looks anymore.
A few flights of stairs, which were getting harder, and muttered thanks to the Aethers at the correct times, brought him to the front desk, where a nervous looking young man stood in the lobby of the Site, along with Mike. Mike was giving him an odd look, with a hand on his hip, near to his baton. The reception area looked fairly plain.
There was a desk, behind which Mike sat, and a row of chairs along two walls which visitors were seated in. The drab taupe walls stood out slightly from the off-brown carpet across the floor. Two men looked at Mike and the young man with careful attention, interested in what was taking place before them. The magazines they'd been reading were tossed back on the table between the two sets of chairs.
The waiting room always reminded Ruslav of a doctor's office waiting area.
"I'm telling you, son, I can't let you bring unapproved weapons into the site." His eyes were locked on the glass and silver Crozier in his hand, the twin snakes of asclepias. Ruslav smiled, as his eyes hesitated for a moment over the young man's robe, a royal blue. Unpretentious, functional, and yet tastefully traditional. Perhaps there was hope yet.
He held a hand up to Mike, "It's not a weapon, Mike. It's a crozier. Alchemist's tools. He's alright."
Mike looked over at Ruslav, and nodded after a moment. He sat back down at the office chair in front of the monitors. The young man couldn't see, but the two "waiting" patrons relaxed as well. MTF members took threats and potential threats seriously.
"I am Ruslav Diaghilev, Alchemist of the—" Ruslav started, his voice tired, and heavy, expecting very little of the young man in front of him.
"Seventh circle. Yes, sir. I was recommended to study under you by Allen Barned, of the fifth circle. He said you were the best, and one of the last practical appliers of the Art." The clear Barcelona accent on his English lisped a few of his ess's, but he was reasonably understandable.
Ruslav narrowed his eyes, and switched to a form of proto-Etruscan, the Eighth Language. Closer to the True Language, but still distant enough for conversation. "And how trained are you, young man? Do you know the vagueries of the Art? Have you been initiated?"
The young man hesitated, and his head drooped slightly. He attempted to speak as well. "I am to be not practiced in the Art as one such are you to be. My—" he attempted to pronounce the name of the language, poorly, "Is not very good. I am sorry."
Ruslav smiled, and nodded, switching back to English. "You are more than a dabbler, young man. What is your name?"
"Arturo Genuomo, sir." He said, with a deep bow, which shook the backpack slightly on his frame. Ruslav's face split into one of the first genuine smiles of the day as he took notice of the equipment on his pack which marked him as a student of the Aequeous Aether.
"Welcome to the Site, Arturo, please walk with me." He turned, and silently walked off, Arturo's odd purple shoes an exact match of his own.
...Как я уже говорил, они не мошенники. Я лично видел на что они способны, и Совет О5 подтверждает их необходимость. Вы же видели бюджетные обоснования Отдела Алхимии — и мы уже не раз сталкивались с алхимическими SCP-объектами. Просто дайте им шанс, Джим...
-Отрывок из ответного письма д-ра Коллинза на сообщение Директора Зоны [УДАЛЕНО]
Обретая равновесие | Channeling Flows»