7 - Perception

 

        After four days of travel, the men had arrived at Isenburg Castletown, where Dietrich and his knights resided. Luitold had been given his own room that night, making him the only peasant besides Bernhart to receive such a privilege. Dietrich’s castle was among the most comfortable in the kingdom for all who were granted its residence, though for Rudolf it was a place he dreaded visiting whenever the time came.

The baron laid in his curtained bed that night in one of the castle’s luxurious guest rooms, reserved only for lords like himself. Despite the comfort of the warm fur blanket that covered him and the tiredness of his travel-worn body, Rudolf again fell victim to the same sleeplessness that had plagued him ever since he had become the Baron of Holzstadt three years prior. The memories associated with the castle only made it worse, so much worse in fact that he wasn’t sure if he would be able to sleep at all for as long as he stayed there.

With no better choice, Rudolf left the comfort of the bed and exited his room, the wooden floorboards squeaking under his every step amidst the ambience of the night. He passed through the darkness of the guest wing halls, the shadows of the walls’ ornaments stretching ominously onto the floor in front of him. Rudolf knew the castle like the back of his hand, navigating the long dark hallways without even bringing a candle from his room, though he likely would have had he been in his more usual sensible state of mind. 

After a few turns, he reached a door at the end of a narrow hallway, one being blocked by two armored guards on night duty.

“Password,” one of the guards demanded stoically. 

“It’s me, Rudolf,” Rudolf replied, his voice weaker than he intended in his tired state.

“Password,” the guard repeated, “Count’s orders.”

“Perception,” Rudolf told him, refusing to look the guard in the eye in his frustration.

The guard on the left of the door backed away as the one on the right began to pull the door’s ring handle, only for it to remain firmly shut.

“Looks like it's locked, my Lord,” he said, his voice devoid of any emotional attachment.

Rudolf pulled up the right sleeve of his robe, revealing a large metal key grasped in his hand. Without hesitation, he stepped forward past the guard and inserted the key into the door’s lock, quickly and aggressively twisting it. With a loud mechanical thud, the door loosed, allowing Rudolf to swing it open and enter inside. The key was a master key of the guest wing granted to him by Dietrich whenever he visited. Every time it was given to him, Dietrich liked to remind him that he was the only baron it was ever granted to. Though it allowed him to enter the bedrooms of the other lords, the only reason Rudolf had any interest in using it was to enter this room, the best kept secret in all of Isenburg.

Shutting the door behind him with little regard for quietness, Rudolf gazed upon the sight of the storeroom’s interior. Within the small space was a wooden table topped with a single  lantern, surrounded on all sides by walls of shelving, stocked to the brim with jars of white crystals. The jars were sorted by size, with some fitting into the palm of a hand, and others being up to eight inches in diameter. Rudolf approached the shelf on the far side of the room and swiftly nabbed one of the small jars. Lacking any kind of pocket or pouch attached to his nightrobe, he gripped it as tight as he could in his left hand, as his right was already holding the master key. 

With the jar in his possession, Rudolf left the storeroom in quick strides, paying no regard to the two guards as he passed by. He continued through the halls, only he didn’t return back to his room. Instead, he took a different route, this one leading him out of the guest wing and through the keep’s main hall, bringing him outside to Dietrich’s very own garden. Like the storeroom door, however, the backdoor that led outside was blocked by another set of two guards. Before they could ask for a password, Rudolf quickly said “perception” as he opened the door himself, feeling his mind grow more and more anxious as he wasted his time scavenging around for his needed materials.

Breaching out into the midnight air, Rudolf briskly followed the cobblestone path to the garden. Though surrounded in hedges the same way his own was, it was quite dissimilar from Rudolf’s garden back in Holzstadt. Every plant was arranged systematically, placed in rows of perfect rectangular boxes separated by a grid of stone pathways. Even the plants themselves held a less beauteous purpose than the flowers of Rudolf’s garden, with most of them being grown for medicinal and alchemical purposes. Still, a small patch of rosebushes could be found there, appearing as if it had been placed out of obligation to have at least something with at least a little visual appeal. 

Rudolf plucked a rose from one of the bushes, carefully holding it between the thumb and index finger of his right hand, hanging the master key around his other fingers. Though at home Rudolf would often stay outside and observe his garden during these sleepless nights, here there was no time for such things. With everything he needed, the baron left the garden as quick as he entered, quickly tracing his steps all the way back to his private room in the guest wing. 

Once in his room, he shut the door behind him and placed both the jar and the rose on his wooden desk. He then paced to the storage chest in the corner of the room and opened it, placing the master key inside and retrieving from it a small but heavy iron stand, made up of four legs that culminated into a circular hole where a jar or bottle could be placed over a flame. Rudolf was first introduced to such a device when he first visited Isenburg’s alchemy lab two years prior, on a day he would never forget for as long as he lived.

The baron put the stand on his desk, placing it over the burning beeswax candle that it had already been decorated with. He grabbed the small glass jar from the storeroom and stared into it briefly, observing the all too familiar ghostly color of the crystals inside, watching as small amounts of pale blue vapor hovered over them. Following these few seconds of inaction, Rudolf finally unscrewed the cork lid and put the jar on top of the alchemy stand. As the crystals heated and the vapor inside grew, he quickly picked up the rose and held it to his nostrils, consuming every last ounce of scent they held as traces of the vapor travelled through the air. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he was met with the familiar sight of a peasant woman, both beautiful and rugged, her long and elegant brown hair juxtaposed with her calloused and scarred hands.

Rudolf fell to his knees before her and his lips trembled as she looked down on him. A glow seemed to radiate around her like she was some kind of holy being.

“Elisabeth,” he said weakly, “Oh, Elisabeth…”

The baron leaned down, burying his head between his arms as they fell to the floor.

“My mistakes…” he spoke into the fabric of his sleeves, “they continue to haunt me more and more!”

“Your mistakes?” she said softly, “Can something be called a mistake if it has benefitted you as much as this?”

Rudolf rose his head from the ground and looked up into the woman’s eyes.

“What?” he said, his eyes brimming with water.

“Did you always feel remorse for my death?” the woman asked, “Or is it only now that you witness its consequences that you repent for it?”

“Yes!” Rudolf cried, “I would trade all the influence, all the power I’d ever gained just to take it back!”

“Then why don’t you?” the woman replied, “You could leave it all behind at any moment and confess, yet you continue on with life’s conveniences. You hide the truth even from my own son, who you now use as you used me.”

“I knew no better!” Rudolf said, “I was only a few years older than your son is now! I just wanted the Count’s approval.”

“You were young then and less young now, yet your actions have changed not. You remain an accessory for the Count rather than to your own people.”

“No! My intentions are with the prosperity of Holzstadt and I stand with the Count so that I can have the leverage to help them!”

“But it is your allegiance to the Count that kills them, that killed me.”

“I didn’t know he would—”
“Need I remind you how it went?”

“I know what happened!” Rudolf screamed, “The Count needed subjects and I—”

“Young Rudolf,” a bold male voice said from behind. Rudolf felt a large warm hand on his shoulder and turned around to see the face of Dietrich as he looked at him with his signature hearty smile, “Have you brought them?”

Rudolf looked into the Count’s eyes with terror, wondering how much he had heard of the conversation with Elisabeth. As he looked at Dietrich, he noticed something different about him. His face was subtly less aged and his normally short grey hair fell down to his shoulders. Rudolf then realized he was no longer in the guest room, and it was no longer midnight, as he stood outside by the castle’s gates under the light of a high summer sun.

“No…” he said to himself, frantically looking at his surroundings, “Don’t show me this now!”

Suddenly, he felt the touch of the hand on his shoulder yet again.

“Young Rudolf,” Dietrich said from behind him in an exact imitation of how he said it previously, “Have you brought them?”

This time, Rudolf for some reason felt compelled to give him an answer, one that came naturally to him, just as it did two summers prior.

“Yes, three peasants just as you asked, my Lord,” Rudolf said. He could feel that his face was relaxed and smiling despite the agony and chaos in his mind, as if his body and voice were acting without his input, merely dragging him along through a predetermined path, “They’ve been walking for two days, so they’re just a little bit behind. I picked only my very favorites from home.”

“Good, I expect interesting results then,” the Count said warmly, “And a shipment of brimstone is along the way as well?”

“Yes, my Lord,” Rudolf replied.

Dietrich began walking down a path around the side of the main keep, easing Rudolf forward as well with his hand on his back.

“For today’s tests, we’ll be seeing how brimstone reacts to Novum Verum,” he said, “I figured it would be a practical option considering you were already bringing along a large supply with you.”

The path continued behind the keep and led to a secluded stone building. It had no windows or other openings besides two large towering chimneys and a reinforced wooden door. Once entering, the two were met with a dim room, lit only by the burning red coals of a furnace that sat against the left wall. Tables and shelves were lined with various containers made of metal and glass, some featuring strangely shaped funnels and openings. On the table in the middle of the room sat a massive iron scale, likely used to measure the weights of different minerals. 

“Quintus!” Dietrich called.

Suddenly, a metal door at the back of the room, which Rudolf hadn’t even noticed, opened wide, revealing a short bald man fashioned with a greying beard and walking stick and clothed in long protective brown robes.

“Yes, my Lord?” the man said.

“A delivery of brimstone will be coming any minute now,” Dietrich said before patting Rudolf on the shoulder “Lord Rudolf from Holzstadt has offered it to us for our research.”

“Oh! It is a pleasure to meet you, my Lord,” the man said to Rudolf as he quickly hobbled towards him and bowed his head, “I am Quintus, Lord Dietrich’s court alchemist.”

“It is nice meeting you, Quintus,” Rudolf replied courteously. 

A few minutes later, the pack horses and their handlers arrived at the laboratory’s door. The handlers quickly unfastened the linen bags from the horses’ backs and placed them next to the metal door inside as Dietrich requested. The lab was instantly filled with the pungent smell of brimstone.

“The subjects should be just behind them,” Rudolf said, “I can bring them in, my Lord.”

“Let them in one at a time, please,” Dietrich replied.

“Of course.”

Following behind the handlers as they exited the building, Rudolf stepped outside and was met with three familiar faces. Before him stood three of his favorite staff members, Barnham, the cook, Ezekiel, the cleaner, and Elisabeth, the gardener. They all smiled as they patiently waited for him, for it was with these three peasants that Rudolf had grown the greatest bonds with over the years. During his childhood, as his mother and father busied themselves with political duties, Rudolf had been left unaccompanied and lonely as he wandered around the castle. It was these three workers that had befriended him and offered him company as he grew up, forging him to be the man he now was.

“Barnham, I will have you come in first, please,” he said to the wide-shouldered cook.

“Yes, m’lord.”

Rudolf led Barnham inside, shutting the door behind them. The metal door at the back of the room had been left ajar, with Quintus and Rudolf waiting beside it.

“The tests will be conducted in here, Lord Rudolf,” Quintus said as he gestured toward the door, “Have the man come inside.”
Rudolf turned to Barnham and smiled at him.

“Well, Barnham, good luck in there,” he said, “This is just a study on the King’s magic. We’ll have to see what kind of wonderful things appear in there.”

“Thank you for this opportunity, my Lord,” Barnham replied, smiling back. The cook walked forward into the room ahead.

Quintus fastened a thick wool scarf around his face, leaving only his eyes exposed. He then grabbed a large red tapestry that was hung beside the door and pulled at it extravagantly, revealing a large green-tinted glass window behind it, which allowed them to see into the second room.

“I will be heading into the room with our subjects to administer the stimuli,” he said to the lords, “I would like for you to watch carefully through this glass. There are certain things I may not be able to observe fully on my own.”

Quintus followed behind Barnham through the metal door and sealed himself inside. The room behind the glass was similarly dark to the main room, only illuminated by the light coming from a chimney overhead as well as a single small candle. Rudolf touched his hand against the glass window, being quite amazed at such a feat of technology. It was the largest sheet of see-through glass he had ever seen. Though some church mosaics were bigger, they did not offer the functionality of partitioning a room while keeping the other side visible. Every man rich enough to afford such an amenity that Rudolf knew was too preoccupied with the necessity of protecting their castle to install one.

Inside the other room was a simple arrangement of a chair and table. Through the glass, Rudolf could faintly hear Quintus telling Barnham to take a seat as he placed a metal stand and a jar filled with both Novum Verum and brimstone powder on the table right beside a burning candle. He then put the stand on top of the candle and the jar on top of the stand and finally removed the cork lid from the jar. The Novum Verum’s blue vapor escaped from the jar, only now it was far darker than any other time Rudolf had observed the substance, resembling a near-black shade as opposed to its typical paleness.

Quintus stepped away from the table and positioned himself in the furthest corner in the room so as not to interfere with the observation. As the vapor reached Barnham’s nose, he displayed no reaction. From what Rudolf had heard of Dietrich’s other experiments with the substance, this seemed fairly usual. After all, the commonfolk had no idea that Avaria’s magic was derived from a tangible material. For all Barnham knew, the items on the table were just for decoration. Rudolf was still unsure of how to feel about Novum Verum. With the values of leadership he was taught as a noble, purposefully ensnaring the public in a lie for the sake of control seemed immoral, though now that he was in on it, there was little else he could do than be complicit if it meant growing a closer relationship with Dietrich. He couldn’t help but pity Barnham as he sat idly waiting for some miracle of God to appear in front of him in this dreary space when it would only be his mind producing the sight to come. 

The silence of the testing room was broken when Barnham dramatically turned around in his chair to look behind him, only to frantically turn the other way shortly after.

“Mister, is there something else in this room?” he asked Quintus, who remained still in his corner. Receiving no response, he looked to Quintus and repeated himself, rising from his seat, “I swear I’m hearing some kind of animal in here. Something’s growling!”

Judging by the fact Rudolf could hear what the cook was saying through the glass, he figured he must have been speaking quite loudly, raising his voice in some kind of induced panic. Suddenly, Barnham grabbed the chair and held it in front of him as if there was something he had to protect himself from.

“Ah! Stand back, wolf!” he yelled.

A moment later, his grip on the chair loosened completely as his body lurched back, despite there being no physical force applied to him. With a blood-curdling cry of agony, Barnham fell to the ground and went silent, his body limp on the stone floor.

“Barnham!” Rudolf called as he slammed his palm on the glass.

“Stop!” Dietrich quickly interjected, grabbing Rudolf’s shoulders and pulling him away from the glass, “If you break the glass and the Novum Verum gets in here, there’s no telling what could happen.”

“I’m sorry, my Lord,” Rudolf said, catching his breath, “I just—I don’t know what to make of this.”

“There is a chance what happened to that man was a reaction unique to him,” Dietrich said, “We can continue with the other subjects while we try to wake him.”

Through the glass, Rudolf watched as Quintus waited for the vapor to clear out through the chimney as he sealed the jar and moved it away from the candle. A minute later, he reopened the metal door, dragging Barnham’s body across the ground by his legs.

“We can lay him in here behind a table,” he said as he struggled to precisely move him, “It might frighten the other subjects if they see the body.”

“You can go get the next, Rudolf,” Dietrich said firmly.

Rudolf looked back at him, concealing his dismay with a stoic face. His mind was racing. What the hell just happened? he thought to himself, Is Barnham..?

“Yes, my Lord,” he replied.

The baron approached the front door of the building and steadily pried it open. As sunlight crept into the dark space, Rudolf was met with the jovial smile of his dear friend Elisabeth. 

“Rudolf!” she said playfully, “Is it my turn already?”

“E—Elisabeth…” he said, his face growing pale. Again, Rudolf was forced to hide the fear in his mind, this time putting on a fake smile to greet her back. Her purity made it hard not to put on a brave face for her, “Yes, come on in.”

“We don’t get to see much magic in Holzstadt,” she continued as the two of them entered the room, “At least not the normal kind you hear of from travellers. I must say, I’m excited.”

“Follow me, woman,” Quintus said as he refastened his scarf over his face and opened the metal door, “We’ll begin the test as soon as you’re ready.”

“Okay!” she replied promptly and innocently, following behind Quintus into the test room. 

Rudolf returned to the window, his forehead nearly touching the glass as he watched in with horror. As Elisabeth sat down in the same chair Barnham had just a few minutes earlier, she observed the dark room, her head on a swivel. Unlike Barnham, she quickly noticed the window, and tilted her head in confusion as she saw Rudolf’s face through the glass.

“Oh? Rudolf, I can see you!” her muffled voice sounded from inside as she waved and smiled. Rudolf simply looked into her eyes as he was consumed with the purest dread he had ever felt, losing the will to smile.

As this was happening, Quintus was swiftly preparing the Novum Verum again, and had already begun opening the jar as it laid atop the candlelight. Just as it had done before, the vapor from within the jar culminated into a dark blue cloud before dispersing through the room. Rudolf watched anxiously, feeling a bead of sweat trail down his forehead as he awaited the results, and just as he had begun to fear, Elisabeth’s fate had already been sealed.

“What?” she said to herself, “No… this isn’t…”

The gardener sprang to her feet and leapt back from her chair as she shrieked in horror, jumping side to side like there was some kind of animal lunging at her. She ran to the window screaming.

“Rudolf!” she cried, “Rudoooolf!”

Elisabeth frantically banged her fist against the glass as Rudolf watched in shock.

` “Help me!” she screamed.

Under her repeated strikes, the glass began to crack until a jagged hole burst out from the middle of the window. Rudolf jumped back to avoid the debris, though a shard of glass was launched outward and landed just above his eye, scraping a bleeding cut into his brow. As soon as the hole opened, Elisabeth’s screams only grew louder as there was no barrier left to muffle them. She began trying to crawl through the hole, though in the affected state she was in, her imaginary assailant seemed to attack her legs, causing her to fall forward, piercing her stomach on the jagged glass as she went limp.

Again, Dietrich grabbed Rudolf and held him back, only this time he had wrapped his inner elbow around his face, smothering him.

“Do not breath it in!” he yelled, his voice muffled under the fabric of his mantle which he had tucked his nose under.

From the top of the hole, Rudolf noticed the dark cloud of Novum Verum seeping into the air of the main room.

“Quintus!” Dietrich said, “Open the door so it can escape through the chimney!”

Hastily, Quintus hobbled from within the testing room and kicked open the metal door. After about a minute of meandering throughout the air, the visible traces of Novum Verum had completely left the building. Dietrich finally released Rudolf from his protective headlock, leaving the baron to take a sharp breath in as he processed the situation that had just occurred before him.

“We cannot do another test while the glass is broken,” Quintus said, seemingly unbothered by what had happened.

“Then the third peasant cannot return home,” Dietrich quickly replied, “It would be too large a risk to let him spread rumors of the fate his companions met. Use the other two bodies for autopsy.”

“I apologize,” Rudolf said faintly, “I… need to step outside.”

The baron weakly stepped away towards the front door. When he began to open it, however, the door suddenly vanished into thin air, leaving him to fall forward, planting his face on the ground. Strangely, the ground his face landed on wasn’t made of dirt, or even cobblestone. Instead, it was wood, the same wood that the floor of his guest room in the castle was made of. He was back.

Too weak to get up, Rudolf stared up at the table beside him, the jar of Novum Verum he had placed on it still producing vapor as it burned above his beeswax candle. In his hand remained the same rose he had taken from the garden just a bit prior. It was certain, he was back in reality. A tear ran from his right eye, and fell sideways into the other across the bridge of his nose.

“Elisabeth,” he said to himself, “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.”

To his shock, he heard Elisabeth’s voice one more time.

“Rudolf,” she said, her voice seeming to project from the rose on the table, “Please protect my son.”
Rudolf didn’t respond.

“Protect Luitold.”