the words of a story
[ AO3 ]
faux pas [french]
an embarrassing or tactless act/remark in a social situation
synonyms:
+ mistake + blunder +
---
“35 liters of water; 20 kilograms of carbon; four liters of ammonia, a kilo and a half of lime.”
Arkos looked at the list he’d scribbled on the paper, hazel eyes skimming over his own sloppy handwriting as he mumbled everything to himself. He tapped his fingers against the paper, taking in a deep breath and then closing his eyes. He opened them again, kept reading.
“800 grams of phosphorus, 250 grams of salt and 100 grams of saltpetre. Then there's the 80 grams of sulfur, seven and a half grams of fluorine… five grams of iron and three grams of silicon.”
His parents wouldn’t be home for a while. Mother was in Creta right now, and Father had likely met up with her---he had left three weeks prior, so there was a good chance the two of them were together. Their neighbors were at work, except for maybe Ms. Yuu, who lived down the street, and he should be… well, he should be fine.
Arkos ran a hand through his hair again, pulling some free of his ponytail by accident, and he quickly shoved it back behind his ears.
He’d been studying for years. He’d read and reread books, filling up notebooks with whatever he could find out.
“I can do this,” Arkos said out loud, an attempt to hype himself up. “I can do this!”
He glanced out the window at the neighborhood --- the Lionhart household was at the end of the street, close enough for him to get help if something goes wrong but far enough away to keep secrets.
Wiping his palms on his jeans, Arkos closed his eyes and nodded to himself. He smoothed his shirt, and then shuffled off towards the unused guest room. No one ever came to stay, so it seemed like to best place to do what he wanted to do. Dalyla was waiting after all.
There was a moment where something cold shot down his spine, like a warning. Something reminding him that human transmutation was a taboo - something never meant to be performed.
But… Dalyla. His sister - the only person Arkos managed to have any kind of contact with once the parents went away. He just wanted to see her healthy again.
Four years was a long time to miss someone.
He nodded to assure himself and stepped into the room, quietly closing the door behind him. All of the materials had been gathered - he’d hidden it all in a small opaque tub that he’d proceeded to hide beneath the guest bed pressed against the window.
Now he pulled it out, producing a piece of chalk from the top, and he started on the transmutation circle. The circle took a little under an hour to complete, with Arkos worrying over every line and detail, ensuring its perfection. From there he measured out the ingredients - ones he had listed, memorized, bought with his meager allowance over the last year.
He laid it all out before him and looked down at his hand. He flexed his fingers before pressing the edge of a knife to the palm of his hand, and making a neat slice.
“Blood…” he murmured. It had always made him queasy. Holding out his hand, he watched his blood drip-drip from his hand before he pulled it back.
That should do it. Carefully stepped back and out of the circle, Arkos knelt down just outside before pressing his hands down to the circle. The room was filled with shadows, cast by the soothing blue light emanating from the circle. Electricity crackled off of it, disappearing almost as soon as it appeared, and Arkos felt some of his anxiety ease away.
It didn’t last very long. That blue light remained, by the edges of the circle grew inky - shadowy wisps rose from the edges, swirling into the air around him.
Arkos’s eyes flickered around - he couldn’t move. It felt like the trepidation, so heavy in the air, paralyzed his limbs and froze him onto the spot.
He should stop. He needed to stop, this felt wrong, but his hands wouldn’t budge. They stayed pressed firm to the ground, and dread started to rise into his throat.
Pain shot through his arm and Arkos yelped, collapsing. His eyes flickered wildly, catching on a multi-ringed iris that stared straight up from the eye that had opened up in the circle. From there he noticed that those shadowy wisps had taken form - small black hands on the edges, reaching and grasping for something.
The hands grabbed at him, reaching past his peripherals, and the world suddenly felt… muted. The sound of crackling electricity was gone, even though sparks still flew in the air. Everything was wrong ---
And then he saw white, and he stood in an empty room - an expanse of white.
YO!
Arkos startled, stepping back out of panic, and his eyes suddenly focused on… a person. Not a person. It looked like a mannequin - it moved like a person, but it had… no distinguishable features. A totally blank slate.
Arkos wondered if it was the cause of the dread in his stomach.
“... W… Who…?”
The figure straightened up and Arkos caught sight of a manic grin.
OH, YOU’RE ASKING? GOOD!
It sat back, that grin still present, and Arkos could feel the oncoming headache as it’s words reverberated with the sounds of hundreds of voices. Masculine, feminine, elderly, childish - the voices of an immeasurable amount of people came from this thing. It made him feel sick.
YOU HUMANS CALL ME… MANY THINGS. GOD. THE WORLD. THE UNIVERSE. ALL AND ONE. EVERYTHING, NOTHING, I AM ALL OF IT. It’s smile felt condescending now, as it raised a pale hand. I AM YOU, TOO.
There was the sound of doors opening and Arkos was petrified, too afraid to turn. His body moved without his permission, though - he turned his head and caught sight of a great, multi-ringed iris. The same thing that had appeared on the floor, in his transmutation circle. The same thing that showed up when he tried to bring back Dalyla.
YOU HUMANS ARE GREEDY THINGS. The figure sounded delighted. YOU DON’T KNOW YOUR PLACE, SO HOW ABOUT I SHOW YOU THE TRUTH OF WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR?
Arkous found himself restricted, suddenly. The same hands that he’d seen grabbed at him now, and he shouted in alarm as he was yanked into the portal. He lunged for the doors, catching at one with his fingers as the double doors began to close. Panic shot through him, lighting every nerve ending on fire, and he screamed.
The doors slammed shut and he was flying, eyes burning as his brain tried to catch up with everything that was forcing its way in. All of his senses felt overloaded, everything felt like it was burning.
There was Dalyla, her ashy-brown hair pulled up off of her neck as she picked flowers. Her skin pale as she laid in bed, sick. The pale flower she held in her hands as her breathing shuddered and her eyes closed.
The last beat of her heart before the doctor declared her dead and left Arkos so, so alone.
There were other things, too. Flashes of his family, compiled with too much information to process, and everything felt like it was falling apart.
It hurts! It hurts!
Then everything was clear, and his sister was there and gone.
He was back in that white void, on his knees and hyperventilating as everything slid into place. His breathing slowed. His heart rate lowered .
SO?
Arkos sat back and looked towards the double doors that had taken him and spat him back out, an ache in his heart. It was all a delusion, then. There was a way to achieve human transmutation, some vital components that laid just beyond his grasp.
The idea of finding it out made him sick.
He turned his head to the white thing that sat across from him, smiling.
NO THOUGHTS? DIDN’T YOU FIND WHAT YOU WERE LOOKING FOR?
“I found… something. Not what I was looking for, but I guess it’s better than nothing.” Arkos responded.
The being cackled. OH HOW INTERESTING! I DON’T THINK I’VE GOTTEN SUCH A FLAT REACTION BEFORE. It leaned forward, perching an arm on its knee. TIME TO PAY YOUR FEE, CHILD.
Fee? Arkos stared blankly at him and then realized, with a start, that he couldn’t feel his arms. He could see the thing’s mouth moving, but it was quieter now.
YOUR ARMS MEET THE EQUIVALENT EXCHANGE OF THE KNOWLEDGE TAKEN FROM YOU. AND WELL… YOUR EARS SEEM AS GOOD OF A PRICE TO PAY FOR ATTEMPTING TO PLAY GOD. DON’T YOU THINK, CHILD?
Arkos’s eyes widened, and then the white world was gone and he was back home, feeling a scream rip from his throat as he collapsed on bloody stumps of his arms.
He hit the ground, tears making his vision blur as the alchemic reaction died down, and terror caught him as he looked at the monstrosity he had brought. It was almost skeletal, with long hair that spread on the ground and eyes that were glassy. It seemed to have died immediately, blood pooling around it and smearing the transmutation circle, and Arkos felt his heart skip a beat.
He continued to scream, unable to hear but able to feel the way his throat grew raw.
Dalyla! I just wanted my sister back! I didn’t want this, why did you do this to me? What did I do wrong?
He was going to die here, Arkos realized. His forearms were missing, deconstructed from just below the elbows. He couldn’t hear, either. He didn’t even know if someone would find him, if someone could hear him. He was going to bleed out here on this floor, and he was going to die.
.
He couldn’t die. He couldn’t.
Gritting his teeth, Arkos forced himself up. He was bleeding out, he wouldn’t be able to stop it on his own. He threw a knee up, foot hitting the ground, and from there he propelled himself to his feet. He couldn’t go to a hospital, they’d ask him questions and he was terrified of what would happen if he had to answer them.
Ms. Yuu should be home, and she knew the rest of the neighborhood better than he did. As Arkos stumbled down the hall, towards his front door, he wondered if there were any doctors in town. He had the offhand thought that he was going to have to clean up the blood in the house before his parents could get home, and he stopped at the door. This was gonna suck.
The managed to use his foot to turn the handle down and he pressed his arms into his shirt, hoping to soak up the blood as he stumbled out of his house.
His screaming from earlier had drawn some attention, apparently. Arkos was glad - he was starting to feel incredibly dizzy as he caught sight of an older gentleman, his blonde hair slicked back. There was some measure of surprise in this man’s expression, but Arkos couldn’t grasp much beyond that.
“Help me,” Arkos managed, before his world spun and he was sent crumpling to the ground.