Gold belongs to the foolish

☆、Nigredo6

Theo Clovis didn't hear slow steps in Ralph's room until his knuckles swelled after knocking on the door.

He immediately put down the hand that was still on the door panel, straightened his collar quickly, and unconsciously straightened his back.

He noticed that the handle on the wooden door turned slowly and hesitantly for a moment.For a moment Clovis was sure that Ralph had turned the lock, but for reasons he did not understand he did not pull the door open.

"Melot?" So he asked (or was sure): "Ralph Melot?"

The wooden door finally opened a small crack, and Ralph's dark brown eyes and haggard face emerged from the gap. He was still wearing the crumpled dark robe that belonged to the Alchemy Tower before, and his eyelids were red and swollen , looking exhausted.

It was dark in his room.Clovis couldn't even be sure that the darkness behind him was still where he had come from yesterday.

"What's the matter?" he said, in a hoarse voice that startled Clovis. "You're not welcome, though."

Clovis does have a thing.But perhaps it was Ralph's attitude or his tired, sullen face—more likely the ink-black room behind him—that made him pause a little hesitantly.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You look tired."

Ralph frowned.

"I'm very bad." He replied unceremoniously: "If you came here uninvited just to say this, then you can go back now."

Clovis quickly resisted the door that Ralph almost slammed: "I want to discuss with you about refining the Philosopher's Stone! I think I found something!" he shouted.

Ralph stood in the doorway, watching him back and forth with a watchful look, and Clovis saw his knuckles white as plaster on the doorknob out of the corner of his eye.Noticing this he threw almost his whole body against Ralph's wooden door, and he could even hear the wood cracking softly under his arms: "It won't be long," he said.

Ralph stood watching him for a moment.

Then he flung the door open.

Clovis almost fell on the dark green carpet in his room.

Ralph sat watching him from a wooden chair, and Clovis noticed that all the curtains in his room were drawn, and the sunlight was struggling through the drapery and fell on Ralph's face—in that When he spoke, his profile was unbelievably soft.

"So what do you want to say?" Then he heard Ralph ask.

Clovis snapped back to his senses.

He lowered his head and rubbed his hands awkwardly: "After I went back that day, I read a few literatures and recipes, and did a few exercises. Actually, I didn't discover it, I... I have some ideas."

He looked up at Ralph.Ralph was silent as he expected.

So he lowered his head again: "In order to refine the Philosopher's Stone, I have used gold to transform the seeds a lot over the years. The one I showed you before is my proudest achievement during this time," he said with a smile After a while: "I always thought this was close, but you showed me yours again: I was very impressed at that time-although the effect is similar, your method is simpler and the transformed metal looks better. It's closer to gold, and it looks easier to store. I thought the similar effect at least meant that our raw materials might be similar, but yours is closer to the soul of metal than mine. But the materials we use are completely different. That That's when a crazy idea popped into my head - no, I've always had it: Can we really touch the soul of metal? Or are we just somehow seeding the metal without actually transforming it? ? What is it that changes the soul?!"

His voice was much higher and shriller than he expected, though he wished it had been a little calmer—a calmer voice is always more convincing: "The Philosopher's Stone is not limited to the transmutation of metals." , so can the Philosopher’s Stone really be made out of metal?!”

He almost shouted the last sentence, almost jumping up from his chair with excitement.But out of etiquette considerations, he changed his sitting position several times and tried his best to hold back.

Clovis looked at Ralph again.

He found Ralph sitting upright in his chair, looking at him.

His expression was completely different from before.It was as if someone had suddenly added a pile of blazing charcoal to his body, and the light of the fire was dancing in the depths of his eyes, and the previous fatigue and impatience had disappeared from his face like water dried by the fire .

He stared at Clovis with such concentration that Clovis felt that the blood in his body seemed to be burning with his sight.

Ralph jumped up from his chair and walked up and down the room twice.

"Keep on," Clovis heard him say. "I didn't think of that . . . Please go on, what did you do?"

So he couldn't help it at last, and stood up with Ralph: "I made several uniform transformations, and one of them was white lead. When the transformation was completed, I broke it off—I don't know how I thought of it." That's the idea, but I did it! The whole thing was as easy as snapping a carbon rod. And guess what I found?"

"You found that only the surface layer of the truncated surface is gold, and the rest is still white lead." Ralph said softly: "You have made several well-known effective transformations, but their real souls have never changed."

Clovis stared at his thin but excited face.

"You know...?" He murmured, "You did...?"

Ralph just watched him.

The flames in his eyes nearly consumed Clovis.

That was probably his answer.

The author has something to say: This chapter is probably about two junior high school boys who sit on the sky and think that they are very good... [I hope it is not difficult to understand if it is not written]

The new collection is probably a little angel who sympathizes with me *disheartened*, but in fact, when this article was written, I basically foresee this situation, although a little sad, it must be bad for me The writing power/copywriting/plot/pace are related to...

But if no one is watching, the advantage is probably that it doesn't matter if I slow down a little bit :D

☆、Nigredo7

The nights started to get rough again.Ralph gradually discovered this after becoming acquainted with Theo Clovis (he wished there had been someone else).

The day has always been extremely expendable, and there are so many things waiting for him—new alchemy equipment, raw materials that need to be replenished, piles of classics that can never be read, all kinds of alchemy with the same purpose but the same effect. , and some odd jobs: like herbs sold to monks, utensils for transforming rich people, etc.--insignificant but small gadgets that he depends on for survival.

Winter is probably his busiest time, and many times he doesn't even have time to eat, and heather bean tubers are a constant staple in his pantry.

And the day is always bright, even on cloudy days.

At night it's the exact opposite.

Ever since he was 14 years old and dreamed of a monk in the outer city, Ralph began to loathe the night - he saw his own essence in it: dirty, obscene, obscure and obscene.He found himself craving rough, violent same-sex contact—hot and fiery, direct and innocent.He did not want to admit that he had enjoyed these encounters in his dreams, and most of the time he refused to recall them.

Lust was filthy and ugly in the extreme, and Ralph had recognized it long ago. ("David . . . my God . . . ! David--!" Elizabeth Melott screamed from the bed as Ralph passed the open door. They connected to the evil behind the genitals And the filth made him puke all night, and she didn't even know they weren't closed)

But his desire for the same sex is the most unbearable.

Disgusting.

It's just disgusting.

He remembered that at the age of 16, out of shame and despair, he tried to cut off his disgusting penis: the thing was uglier than he imagined, and when it stood up, it looked like some kind of deformed monster—and in his The unspeakable dream is exactly the same as the one that appeared in the memory.The only reason he didn't succeed was because his grandmother caught him trying and slapped him ("What are you doing?!" she yelled at him, "You bloody little bastard!" and 16 year-old him weeping weepingly).

It's not that he didn't try to forget this dirty impulse by being busy, but that forgetting was only temporary.Lust lurks in his body like a stomachache and always finds time to resurface, making him sick and miserable.

This situation improved slightly after he moved to the smoggy neighborhood before (God knows he was never the kind of person who enjoyed peace, although he didn't appreciate the various disturbances around here), and after meeting Theo After Clovis, everything seemed to go back to when he was 14 years old.

In his dream he saw Clovis's smiling face clearly.They sat in the bar, Clovis's smile reflected in the drink, surrounded by a cacophony of shouting and laughter.The air was hot and humid, and the candlelight on the table flickered with life as the wooden door of the tavern opened and closed.

Ralph suddenly felt a strange, unsettling anxiety. He seemed to feel something and nothing at all.At the same time he became aware that Clovis' blue eyes were looking across - this time he didn't look down, he let himself look back into Clovis' pale blue eyes.

"Ralph," then he heard Clovis whisper, much lower and softer than he had thought.Ralph thought he couldn't hear, but the voice was strangely clear.

"Ralph," he said.

Ralph said nothing--he always seemed unusually quiet in such dreams.

"Ralph." Clovis said his name in a soft voice, like a poem, like a song: "Ralph."

He stretched out his hand.

The hand stretched across the table and took Ralph's.

Clovis' fingers were slender and strong, and the scars on his fingers and palm slowly rubbed against the back of Ralph's pale and thin hand with a strange force.Almost as soon as his fingertips touched the back of Ralph's hand, Ralph felt his stomach twist violently. He felt itchy all over his body. It seemed that a row of worms rushed from his back. climbed over.He wanted to scream or yell, he wanted to overturn the drinking table between him and Clovis, he wanted to grab Clovis by the hair or hug him, so many things he wanted to do, but those The whole thing is ridiculous.

So he just squeezed Clovis's hand back tightly in an eager, hungry way.His fingers recklessly parted the gaps between Clovis' fingers and thrust in. His whole body—the boiling blood and hot skin—felt the strength of Clovis' phalanx, which made him painful and intoxicated. , can only be gripped back with the same force.

His breathing was heavy as thunder.

Clovis in the dream was still watching him, and there was a message in the look on his face.Ralph read it keenly.

He gasped for breath.

"Ralph," he heard Clovis say.

His pale blue eyes sparkled.

"Only you understand me." He heard him say, "Only I understand you."

enough.

stop now.

Ralph's mind awoke from this horrible dream earlier than his body.

The moment he opened his eyes, despair and anger flooded him like a tide.

see.He twisted the corner of his mouth, you disgusting little bastard, who should approach a maggot like you?Who are you worthy of?

He punched himself hard in the stomach, and walked to the washbasin to wash his face in a daze.

A strong bitter taste rises from the depths of his throat and presses under his tongue. The pain in his abdomen seems to be urged by something to throb violently—it seems to be an inescapable sense of guilt, a wound that cannot heal, damp A bed sheet or a dream that doesn't want to be recalled.

He slapped himself, closed his eyes and buried his face in the basin.

The author has something to say: update la la la

I've always wanted to write about a guy who's ashamed to hold hands in his dreams la la la

☆、Nigredo8

"I think we should get out of the Habsburgs," Clovis said suddenly over dinner one day. "I've heard people say the Habsburgs won't last long."

He waited a while after saying this.He was waiting for Ralph's response to the sentence: surprise, confusion, curiosity, even delight.

But Ralph seemed unmoved.

He continued to drink the soup casually, snorting as if perfunctory.

Clovis couldn't believe his indifferent attitude: "Aren't you curious?" He asked: "We may soon lose such a superior alchemy environment, don't you feel sorry?" But Immediately afterwards he said: "But it's good that they really go bankrupt, then that ghost contract will no longer be valid."

Ralph put down the soup bowl and glanced at him, the corners of his mouth twitched a few times, and the expression on his face looked like a sneer.

"What else?" he said, sounding very contemptuous: "It's just the reasons: the people hate the royal family who pays us liars, other countries fear that the Philosopher's Stone is forged, and the ridiculous old beggars in the astronomy Prophecy—alchemy is not a very attractive science, don't you know?"

A smile slid across Clovis' face.

"You're wrong," he said, "because the Habsburgs are about to go bankrupt."

"...Oh, so boring that it's not even worth mentioning."

"You're just saying that because you didn't guess right, Melotte." Clovis said, still with a smile on his face: "Actually, I have an idea."

Ralph frowned at him.

Clovis pretended he didn't see the impatience on his face: "If we can't go any further here—" he draws out his voice dramatically here to hide the embarrassment and trembling in his voice—he had Never said the next thing, partly because he didn't think anyone was really as smart or prescient as he was, and partly because he really didn't meet many real alchemists: "—Melotte, Would you like to study with me in Loire? I think we could go—”

He stopped slowly.

Ralph's eyes were fixed on him.His hair slid down from behind his ears and hung down his face like a curtain, making his face as white as the white dye on a mural.

He stared at Clovis with wide, dark brown eyes like dried blood.

It wasn't any expression Clovis had ever envisioned, and he couldn't even understand why the fear, anxiety, and loathing had come across his face.

They spent a lot of time together during these times, and Clovis was sure that Ralph Melotte was definitely not a man with many friends. Before that, Clovis even thought for a while that he was probably among the people Ralph knew. The only one who could be called a friend (so he didn't think about the situation at all, of course).For a while Ralph was even overly gallant.Clovis couldn't believe that the previous two weeks had been his own wishful thinking: Ralph had watched him so eagerly, wistfully, and he couldn't deny that he'd been enjoying it—

But lo and behold.Look at it, you stupid ass.

This mistake is so fucking embarrassing.Annoyance and embarrassment screamed in his brain, and the only reason he had was to keep him from slamming the bowl on the ground.

He had never felt so self-indulgent.

"...you don't want to?" he said at last. "Indeed, I was too abrupt. Do you have any other plans?"

He expected a denial or an explanation - at least it wouldn't make him look like a joke.

But Ralph gave only a smirk after a moment's silence.

"What makes you think that I would be willing to study with you in Loire?" He said in a soft tone, his skinny fingers slowly crossing together: "What did I do to give you this illusion, Chloe?" Vi? I'm assuming we're not as close as you think."

At this time, they didn't get along for a long time, and Clovis couldn't see his real thoughts from Ralph's tone and expression, so he was furious now, and his embarrassment and disappointment made him have a splitting headache.He wanted to stand up now and punch Ralph's mocking face hard, but he managed to hold back.

"Isn't it?" In the end, he tried his best to show a smirk, and squeezed out this sentence through his teeth: "I never thought about it that way, I just want to know if you have any other plans. "

"I don't have any other plans." Ralph replied, "Is it alchemy, or do you think I will do other things?"

Clovis said nothing more.

He left Habsburg that afternoon.

The author has something to say: I almost forgot to update...

Clovis is actually a very arrogant/narcissistic guy, don't know if you can see it.