Nar from the fire I

The Chinese district was located in the north of the city, on the second largest island in the lagoon, therefore a boat was needed to reach it from the city-center, otherwise one must had waited for the ferry that went back and forth between the two coasts.

Clearly Fiamma and Ren did not have a private boat: so they had to wait for the ferry, which theoretically had to leave every thirty minutes, but this timetable was rarely respected, especially during night-time.

The two young alchemists went to sit on the pier: the adrenaline had left their bodies and all the weight of tiredness and tension took its place.

When the ferry finally arrived, Ren had been asleep for at least half an hour: his forehead pressed against Fiamma's shoulder, who was also struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Hey kids, do you have to catch this boat?" Asked the ferryman, kicking Fiamma's boot to get her attention.

The girl opened her eyes suddenly, and nodded sleepily, vigorously shaking her friend to wake him up. They boarded in and before the ferry sailed again the two were already sound asleep.

The ferry passed placidly on its route, crossing only a couple of other boats that proceeded lazily: the passengers were sleepy workers who were finally returning home.

The lagoon, a brackish expanse normally in constant turmoil, was at that moment silent and dark, the stars reflected on the calm water, creating the illusion of sailing on a starry sky.

But the two young alchemists did not enjoy that spectacle.

However, the solitary passenger of a small boat sailing in the opposite direction did. The man was standing up on the boat which apparently was moving without any sail or oars.

The passenger was an elderly man, he had a long white beard and wore a simple tunic, but despite his age, one could still see a strong temperament on his face. If the kids had been awake they certainly would have noticed the strange circumstance that his little wooden boat was moving without any apparent thrust, and they would have also realized that it was a spell.

The man's robes revealed that he was an alchemist, the finishes and subtle blue embroidery on the lapel of his tunic would be enough to guess that he came from the School of Parnassus[1].

It was one of the five Alchemical Schools of Venice, it was renowned in the city and in the rest of the world of Alchemists for its virtuous teachings and the rigidity of its disciples.

Among all the alchemists they were certainly the closest to what can be called a religious cult, which explained why they often found themselves at odds with the Catholic Church but also with the other Schools.

It was a widespread belief among alchemists that religion and Alchemy were two separate topics: the first was concerned with souls and miracles, the latter studied the Matter and Physics.

Even the most religious alchemists tended to consider the soul as a part of non-corruptible and still unknown Matter, which survived the death of the body and had the ability to mix with universal Matter. These were abstract and boring concepts to most alchemists; the majority took a concrete attitude towards their practice and considered it closer to medicine or astronomy rather than disciplines such as philosophy or religion.

But the School of Parnassus was an exception. they still acted with the spirit of the ancient alchemists: those who had traveled the world in search of eternal life and panacea.

The disciples of the Parnassus School were the last relics of a declining world: the School was gathering fewer and fewer new students each year, and it was already rumored that within the next generation in the city the number of Alchemical Schools would drop to four.

Being familiar with the reputation of the School, if Fiamma and Ren had been awake, they would surely have been amazed to see one of Parnassus scholars sailing in the middle of the lagoon late at night. Being two young kids with sharp minds, they would have tried to understand what could have pushed him out of the School, and maybe they would have been able to guess the reason.

But the two kids were sleeping quietly, and they did not saw anything.

They did not see the old man dock his boat at the pier of the island from which they had sailed, much less did they see the man who was waiting for him and who bow his head towards him. The man was himself a Master of an important School, though not an Alchemic School: he was a Cultivator.

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[1] Parnassus in the Greek mythology is the mountain where the Muses resided, and it was consecrated to the cult of Apollo.