Was talking to th Drewcifer earlier today. Was at a loss as to what to write, and I'm a bit stumped on my current projects. He challenged me to write outside my comfort zone, so I am going to start this high fantasy story. I really like a lot of the ideas I've come up with for the initial story. It should be good. And with that I give you this story I have yet to title. (You know if any of you should be struck with an idea for a title for all these untitled stories of mine,you should suggest it.)

The Alchemist

---------------------------------------------------------

“Where did that go.” Aleksey muttered, shuffling the papers on his desk, glancing at each as he did so.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Two men sat in a stone room, each at a desk surrounded by mounds of books and papers. Candles burned giving them light to read by. The wind howled through a nearby window.
The first man was older, grey speckled his short black hair and beard. He sat in a high backed chair wrapped in a grey fur blanket. His breath came out as a vapor, made visible by the cold air in the room. When he spoke his accent was thick, placing heavy emphasis on hard consonants. The other man sat across the room. His face was clean shaven, and his blond hair was short. He dressed in a heavy brown robe and also was covered in a blanket. The two stirred little, each peering at their prospective papers and books.

“Aleksey?”

“Hmmmm?”

“When is Erick going to be here? I still haven’t found anything for him.”

“I think he said Thursday.” Aleksey replied. “But I am not sure. I’ll look it up when I go downstairs for more food.”

“Thanks.”

The room was once again quiet for nearly an hour.

“Jacob?” Aleksey asked, breaking the silence.

“What?”

“Have you seen Samuel? There isn’t much wood downstairs for the fire. It was already low this morning. He’s normally good about that sort of thing, but I haven’t seen him all day.”

Jacob sat back in his chair and stared blankly at the wall for a moment.

“No, I don’t think I’ve seen him. That’s odd.”

“Well, I think I’ll go down and look for him. I’m hungry and my legs could use a stretch anyways.”

Aleksey pushed his chair back from the table and walked to a heavy wooden door across the room, removed a lantern from the wall, lit it, pulled the door open, and disappeared down the stares. He returned twenty minutes later, his face ashen.

“Jacob.” He said. “Samuel is dead.”