Heartbroken, I returned to the shelf—but not before sneaking a few pages. My childish mind couldn't grasp most of it, but one concept stuck: *the transmutation of lead into gold.* It planted a seed in me.
Years later, that seed would grow into obsession.
---
The driver suddenly interrupted, tightening a screw under the hood:
*"Don't tell me… the book was *The Alchemist*?"*
Sebastian smirked. "Yes, my friend. It was."
---
The Real Change Began at 15.
Lythibath and I were in the garden when the ancient oak—our family's sacred tree—*spontaneously combusted.* In the middle of winter. In pouring rain. The flames wouldn't die until the tree was ash.
The next morning, my father's friend, *Duke Josh*, arrived for dinner. A bald, obese aristocrat and a successful mystery novelist, he was one of the few people my father respected.
Over roasted turkey and red wine, my father mentioned the burning oak. Duke Josh tensed.
*"That… sounds like the work of *Manuel Bradbury's* boy. That deranged child tied dead cats to my apple tree during a storm—wired them with fishing line and electrodes. He *waited* for lightning to strike, thinking he could *resurrect the dead.* When the cats' eyes flickered open from the current, the idiot thought he'd succeeded."*
I was surprised by this information To be honest.
The driver, now drenched from the rain, paused his repairs and muttered:
I'm sure you didn't find this in the Alchemist book, right?
Sebastian replied:
"I had forgotten about alchemy, but Edbyath, who had been reading about it, became more and more obsessed with it day after day, until we arrived at the Swiss university to which we had been sent. My father had wanted us to learn languages and become familiar with new cultures. One sunny day, Edbyath was walking in the large university garden behind the academic tower, among the apple trees, green grass, and rose gardens filled with bees and wasps, alongside his new friend, Henry. I was walking behind them, sipping my favourite matcha drink.
Henry congratulated us on our admission to the university. Edbyath told him that he was planning on a different major, a new job, and a different kind of studies, and that he no longer liked the law school our father had enrolled us in.
Then Henry said, 'Have you heard the news? Your mother is very ill. Are you not concerned for her at all?'
We replied then that the new palace servants and the family doctor, Christina, were with her, and they wouldn't leave her should she need anything.
Then Henry handed us a letter from America, written inside it that our mother had died, and that she had said Edbyath would be the heir to the palace she owned, and that this would be her final wish.
We were shocked by the news. Edbyath, tense, said that he was very sad, although he did not shed a tear. He also said that he wasn't interested in the palace. I cried and mourned my mother like any child would, but Edbyath did not cry, and I had never seen him cry—not since he was little. As his blond hair grew longer and his cold features sharpened, he began to wear that strange yellow suit, always walking with his hands behind his back. I began to see the monster within him growing more and more.
Weeks after my mother's death..."
Edbyath moved to another neighbouring college. There, all the professors were amazed by his extraordinary, inhuman intelligence, as he explained chemistry and modern sciences in great detail, demonstrating his remarkable intellect. His fascination with these sciences grew even more, driving him to study obsessively. I remember that in the student dormitory, he never ate with us, as he refused to take a break from studying. He would look at a book like a psychopath. The professors began to wonder at the extent of his intelligence and his exceptional grasp of various fields of knowledge.
At that time, Edbyath would say to himself that he had become nothing more than a strand in the ocean of knowledge. And from there, his dream began to grow more and more, but this time his thoughts pushed him to surpass human scientists. He didn't want to reach our level of technology or even surpass us; no, he wanted to reach the technology of the gods—something no one had ever thought of, something that required experiments, many mad experiments. He realised the university was not suitable for conducting such experiments. He needed another place.
He told me all about these places when he asked me to take him to the cemetery. I took him, albeit reluctantly, because this boy had an irresistible charm that could control your mind. When we reached that dark cemetery at night, behind the fence, I grabbed his hand to stop him. He then said something very strange, something I had never heard before, in a strange language. As he spoke these words, his eyes began to change, turning into the shape of a predatory eye, red in colour. His fangs emerged, his ears became long, and his hands transformed into spider-like tentacles. The flesh peeled from his chest, revealing the bones of his ribcage.
ମୋ ହାତ ଛାଡିଦିଅ, ହେ ମର୍ତ୍ତ୍ୟ
And he ran into the cemetery.
At that moment, I felt this strange burning sensation in my hand as he let go of it, and my adopted brother disappeared into the cemetery. From that day on, I never heard from him again.
Edbyath moved to another neighbouring college. There, all the professors were amazed by his extraordinary, inhuman intelligence, as he explained chemistry and modern sciences in great detail, demonstrating his remarkable intellect. His fascination with these sciences grew even more, driving him to study obsessively. I remember that in the student dormitory, he never ate with us, as he refused to take a break from studying. He would look at a book like a psychopath. The professors began to wonder at the extent of his intelligence and his exceptional grasp of various fields of knowledge.
At that time, Edbyath would say to himself that he had become nothing more than a strand in the ocean of knowledge. And from there, his dream began to grow more and more, but this time his thoughts pushed him to surpass human scientists. He didn't want to reach our level of technology or even surpass us; no, he wanted to reach the technology of the gods—something no one had ever thought of, something that required experiments, many mad experiments. He realised the university was not suitable for conducting such experiments. He needed another place.
He told me all about these places when he asked me to take him to the cemetery. I took him, albeit reluctantly, because this boy had an irresistible charm that could control your mind. When we reached that dark cemetery at night, behind the fence, I grabbed his hand to stop him. He then said something very strange, something I had never heard before, in a strange language. As he spoke these words, his eyes began to change, turning into the shape of a predatory eye, red in colour. His fangs emerged, his ears became long, and his hands transformed into spider-like tentacles. The flesh peeled from his chest, revealing the bones of his ribcage.
ମୋ ହାତ ଛାଡିଦିଅ, ହେ ମର୍ତ୍ତ୍ୟ
And he ran into the cemetery.
At that moment, I felt this strange burning sensation in my hand as he let go of it, and my adopted brother disappeared into the cemetery. From that day on, I never heard from him again