Alina hadn’t known what to expect when she followed Mareena into the earth’s embrace, but it certainly wasn’t the sprawling network of tunnels and chambers that unfolded before her eyes. Her brown eyes, wide with quiet astonishment, took in thehidden world below—an intricate labyrinth pulsing with quiet purpose. Phoenixians moved through the corridors with determined grace, and many cast startled glances towards the drakonian in their midst, clearly unused to the presence of an outsider beneath their sacred city.
‘Our most esteemed scholars work down here,’ Mareena said, her voice echoing softly off arched ceilings as they passed through stone corridors flanked by doorways and shadowy tunnels, some of which led to chambers that resembled classrooms. The air was thick with knowledge, the scent of wax and parchment laced through it. ‘I shall take you to the laboratories before we see the witch.’
Though buried beneath layers of stone and soil, the underground halls were anything but dim. The tunnels glowed with the gentle warmth of countless torches and carefully placed candles, casting a golden hue that softened the cold stone. The firelight lent the place a hushed reverence, like a cathedral of learning. Phoenixians in flowing white robes flitted through the corridors, their arms laden with books and scrolls, their red eyes widening at the sight of Alina walking in step with their princess.
Mareena halted at one of the many carved doors and knocked once before ushering Alina inside. For a moment, darkness swelled thick and still until Alina’s eyes adjusted to the dim glow within.
What she saw stole the breath from her lungs.
The chamber stretched as wide as a throne room, cavernous and humming with strange energy. All around her, bizarre and fantastical creatures stirred. Some caged, some laid out upon stone slabs, their wings outstretched, their scales or feathers glinting beneath the glow of enchanted lanterns. Scholars moved among them, measuring wingspans, examining beaks,murmuring to one another in low, reverent tones.
Alina found herself pausing, momentarily enchanted by a bird with an elegantly elongated neck and plumage so vividly pink it seemed almost unreal, like a blossom plucked from a dream. But before she could step closer, Mareena seized her arm and tugged her away with urgency, leading her briskly down a narrow passage to a discreet door tucked away at the end. They slipped through, vanishing into a smaller, far dimmer chamber.
‘What is this place?’ Alina asked, her brow knitting as her eyes adjusted to the gloom.
Rows upon rows of shelves lined the tight quarters, and on each rested glass jars of varying sizes. Suspended in the murky liquid within each vessel were peculiar creatures, some malformed, others eerily beautiful, each held in a silent, floating slumber.
Mareena moved swiftly to the centre of the room, where a large table lay strewn with parchment. Diagrams, scrawled symbols, and carefully inked notes covered the surface in a chaos of intellect that Alina could not begin to decipher.
‘I don’t understand,’ she admitted softly, glancing around at the glassy sentinels encircling them, then back to the cryptic texts.
‘Through alchemy,’ Mareena said, her voice calm, reverent, ‘we are able to reshape the fabric of life. Two creatures, no matter how dissimilar, may be fused into one, each bearing the finest traits of the originals, their flaws erased, reborn as something greater.’
‘To what end?’ Alina asked, unsettled.
‘Nature is imperfect,’ Mareena replied, her crimson eyes gleaming in the low light. ‘And so, we strive to rewrite it.’
Alina’s jaw tightened. ‘But such imperfection was crafted by God with intention,’ she said, her voice edged with quietdefiance. ‘I do not believe it is ours to rewrite.’
‘Unlike others, we possess no magic in these lands,’ Mareena said, her voice a low murmur that echoed faintly off the stone. ‘But we strive to uncover something akin to it, stronger creatures to shield us from our foes, and means by which we might refine ourselves.’ Her hand moved to the parchment before her, fingers gliding delicately over the curling script and symbols. ‘One day, perhaps, we could even conquer death itself.’
Alina’s brow creased. ‘Conquer death?’
‘Imagine it,’ Mareena whispered, her eyes gleaming with a quiet, fevered hope. ‘A world where death holds no dominion. No sickness, no hunger. A world in which you need never fear losing those you love.’
For a moment, Alina allowed herself to indulge in the beauty of the thought, a wistful smile brushing her lips. But she shook her head slowly. ‘Such a world is a dream. It will never come to be.’
‘But what if we could forge it into reality?’ Mareena gestured towards the rows of jars, each a silent testament to their efforts. ‘Alchemy grants us the power to shape entirely new beings.’
‘And can you make them live forever?’ Alina asked softly.
A shadow passed across Mareena’s striking face, her features briefly faltering. ‘No… Not yet.’
‘Perhaps there’s a reason for that,’ Alina replied, glancing once more at the scattered notes, choosing not to look too long at the grotesque forms floating behind glass. ‘Perhaps God did not intend for us to meddle with such designs.’
‘But God granted us the gift of alchemy, did he not?’ Mareena countered. ‘Surely that was not without purpose. And if not...’
‘Then God also ensured that every living thingshares a single truth,’ Alina said quietly.
Mareena tilted her head. ‘What truth?’
‘That we all must die in the end.’
A long silence followed before Mareena released a sigh, soft and almost mournful. ‘Then perhaps,’ she murmured, ‘God wishes us to find a way around it on our own.’
‘Perhaps…’ Alina said, stepping closer to one of the shelves, curiosity outweighing caution. She leaned in, peering into one of the jars only for her expression to contort in revulsion. ‘What are they?’
‘Fetuses,’ Mareena replied, her eyes never lifting from the notes she continued to skim. ‘From every animal species native to our land.’
