Seeds of Innovation

Chapter 13: Seeds of Innovation

The day's success left Alden energised as the caravan began to pack up for the evening. The clinking of coins in his pocket was a constant reminder that he was now closer to his dream than ever before. But there was no time to rest on his laurels. His ambition stretched far beyond selling a few crops at a market; this was merely the foundation. His true vision—the laboratory where he would push the boundaries of genetics and merge it with magic—was yet to be built.

And so, as the last sacks of crops were loaded back onto the carts, Alden signalled Bran to hold off on leaving. "I'm going to take a walk around the market," he said, his eyes scanning the stalls and alleyways that filled the vibrant town. "There are some things I need to acquire before we head back."

Bran frowned, clearly puzzled. "What more could we need? We've sold almost everything."

Alden smiled, already turning towards the heart of the market. "Tools, materials. Things that aren't obvious but will help in the long run. Stay here with the caravan. I won't be long."

The market, though quieter now as the evening descended, was still full of life. Lanterns began to flicker to life, casting golden pools of light over the stalls and illuminating the wares in new ways. Alden walked slowly, taking in everything with the calculating eye of a man with a plan.

His first stop was a tool merchant's stall. The merchant, an older man with thick, calloused hands, was packing up his wares but paused when he saw Alden approach.

"Something you need, young lord?" the merchant asked, wiping his brow with a rag.

Alden nodded, eyeing the neatly arranged rows of hammers, chisels, saws, and other implements. "I need tools—precision ones. For fine work."

The merchant raised an eyebrow, obviously intrigued. "Fine work, eh? You a craftsman?"

"Something like that," Alden said, his gaze narrowing as he spotted a set of small, delicate tools that seemed more suitable for a jeweller or watchmaker. "These. I'll take them."

The merchant leaned over, inspecting the tools that had caught Alden's eye. "That's a jeweller's kit. Not what most folks around here ask for. You sure you know what you're doing?"

Alden nodded. "Trust me. They'll be put to good use."

He made the purchase quickly, slipping the tools into a leather pouch before moving on. Next, he began to look for glassware—delicate instruments for measuring, observing, and experimenting. This would be harder to find, but Alden knew that alchemists in this world used similar tools for their potions and brews. If anyone had what he was looking for, it would be them.

Wandering deeper into the market's backstreets, Alden found what he was searching for: a small, tucked-away stall run by a hunched, elderly alchemist. The air around the stall was thick with the scent of herbs and strange concoctions. Bottles of various shapes and sizes filled the shelves, their contents glowing softly in the fading light.

"Ah, a young scholar, I see," the alchemist croaked as Alden approached. "Looking for something special, are we? A potion, perhaps? Or a rare ingredient?"

Alden shook his head, though he appreciated the alchemist's keen eye. "No potions today, but I am looking for glassware. Beakers, vials, flasks—anything of quality."

The alchemist blinked, then nodded knowingly. "Ah, I see. A man of experimentation. Very well, I have just the thing. Follow me."

The old man led Alden behind the stall, where a series of shelves held pristine glass instruments. Unlike the crude containers he had seen at other stalls, these were finely crafted—clear, thin glass perfect for detailed work. Some were engraved with precise measurements, while others were large enough to hold entire chemical reactions.

"These should suit your needs," the alchemist said, his voice almost a whisper. "They're not cheap, but I assure you, they're worth every coin."

Alden inspected the glassware carefully, running his fingers over the smooth surfaces. They were exactly what he needed. "I'll take these," he said, pulling out his purse.

The transaction was swift, and as Alden tucked the glassware carefully into a padded satchel, he felt a sense of satisfaction settling over him. He was one step closer to having everything he needed.

Next, he turned his attention to materials for building. He knew he would need space—a dedicated room or structure where he could set up his equipment and begin his experiments. But for now, he focused on the smaller, more immediate needs: sturdy tables, shelves, and containers to store his work.

His search brought him to a carpenter's stall, where rows of wooden planks, beams, and finished furniture pieces were displayed. Alden selected a few high-quality pieces of wood and a small, expertly crafted workbench. The carpenter, a burly man with an eye for detail, promised to deliver the goods to Alden's estate within the week.

By the time Alden returned to the caravan, the night had fully descended on Ormsworth, the market now quiet save for the occasional murmured conversation or the distant sound of music from a nearby tavern.

Bran raised an eyebrow as Alden approached, laden with tools, glassware, and wooden components. "Looks like you've been busy," he remarked, eyeing the goods with mild curiosity.

Alden smiled, feeling the weight of his purchases and the potential they represented. "Just gathering what I need. This is only the start, Bran. Soon, I'll have a proper workspace."

Bran grunted in response but said nothing more. The caravan began to move again, slowly making its way out of town and back towards the estate. As they left the flickering lanterns of Ormsworth behind, Alden allowed his thoughts to wander.

His mind buzzed with possibilities. With the tools and materials he had gathered, he could finally begin the work he had envisioned. The glass vials and beakers would allow him to observe and measure the finer aspects of plant biology, while the jeweller's tools would be perfect for more delicate experiments. The workbench would serve as the heart of his new lab, where he would sit for hours, methodically recording data, cross-breeding plants, and eventually, conducting more daring experiments with magic.

The journey back to the estate was long, and Alden spent much of it lost in thought. He imagined a future where his laboratory was filled with strange plants, each one carefully engineered to thrive in even the harshest conditions. He envisioned a time when genetics would no longer be a curiosity, but a respected and powerful tool, capable of changing the world.

But first, he needed to secure more funds. Today's sales had been promising, but they were only the beginning. To build his dream laboratory—one that rivalled the greatest alchemical workshops and magical libraries—he would need more capital. His next goal would be to expand his trade network, establishing connections with other merchants and possibly even noble families who could see the value in his work.

As they approached the estate, Alden glanced at the distant silhouette of the manor house. His family still had no idea what he was truly planning, but that was fine. For now, they saw him as a curious young lord with odd hobbies. But soon, they—and the world—would come to understand the magnitude of what he was about to achieve.

Alden felt a sense of excitement rise within him as they passed through the gates of Harroway. He was close now—so close. His laboratory would be the first step in unlocking the full potential of this world's mysteries.

And Alden was determined to be the one who would unravel them