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Legends of the Alchemist (acronym: LOTA) is a novel/novel trilogy being written by Beast Boy Cahill. None of these books are completed (or even half-done) or published but that is because Beast Boy Cahill puts a lot of work and consideration into writing it/them as it is intended to be the length and quality of a real, quality novel. (NOTE: From here on, the article will be written commonly referring to it as just one novel for simplicity's sake.)
Legends of the Alchemist is a Medieval fantasy novel, the type with knights, wizards, magical creatures (including monsters) but most importantly, as the name implies, alchemists. In this series, alchemy is defined not as a magic or a science (like in Fullmetal Alchemist) but as a mixture of the two, in fact, it is defined as the only existing bridge between science and magic, the two elemental principles of reality, which is actually what makes it so great.
Basic plot descriptionEdit
The main protagonist of the series is Samuel (always referred to as 'Sam') Fantastic (the reason for this rare and ridiculous surname is that his father, Merlicicus, didn't have last name so he simply invented one for Sam), a 12-year-old orphan boy. His father, a wizard and alchemist named Merlicicus, had been a living legend (when he was alive) as a brilliant one (wizard and alchemist). He was revered as one of, if not the best, wizards and alchemists of all time. He died in battle when Sam was but 3 years old saving the entire kingdom from an invasion which would otherwise have conquered it. As for Sam's mother, she was a fairly average woman in work and reputation, but was apparently a good enough person for Merlicicus (who was on the antisocial hermit's side) to have fallen in love with her. She died before he did, of a monster attack. So he lives in an orphanage, where his best friend and roommate is a lad named Roland Wildbee. To be continued...
Arthur (surname undecided)
To be continued...
To be continued...
(Main antagonist, evil warlock, dark lord, name undecided)
Book 1: The Safe, Chapter 1: The Orphan, beginning.
Sam put his hands under his head, kicked back and lay to rest on the top bunk. He claimed he needed to start taking the bottom bed as he was starting to levitate in his sleep and the ceiling was closer to the top bed than the top bed was to the bottom bed, but Roland was used to the bottom one and insisted that they take action when Sam started hitting the ceiling.
“What?” Roland asked, trying to persuade Sam while pacing in their room, “it’s not like you’re going to hit the ceiling hard! They say you escalate slowly. You probably won’t even feel it enough for it to wake you up!”
“I don’t care, Roland,” replied Sam, making himself comfortable, “I’m not going to wait until I start slamming into the ceiling.”
Roland was Sam’s best friend and roommate at Lancelot Orphanage. He was a pasty white, skinny 12-year-old boy of just below average height who stood out by his fruit-orange hair and bright green eyes. Sam was about the same, except he was of average height and had sky-blue eyes and light blond hair.
“Let’s compromise,” Roland was speaking on, ignoring the vial of transparent, colorless liquid that Sam was taking out of a small box (he refused to call it a jewelry box, even though it fit such a description perfectly) as Roland spoke, “if the slam that you take from the ceiling is fatal, I promise, I’m never taking your bed.”
“How generous of you,” Sam said as he uncorked the vial and spilled the colorless liquid down on Roland. This caused Roland to shriek like a little girl, one of his unfortunate habits and watching which was one of Sam’s simple pleasures in life.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Sam proudly announced, “All welcome Roland Wildbee, the most courageous and masculine knight who ever lived! Honorable of holding position of the Royal Round Table of Knights!” It was a known fact to everyone that Roland wanted to be a knight when he grew up. It was his fantasy from childhood. Unfortunately, it was also known he was exhibiting a few flaws of incompatibility to such a task, as the Royal Round Table of Knights and even the plain old cavalry was rumored to frown upon the habit of screaming like a little girl.
“That’s not funny,” Roland exclaimed as he brushed the liquid off with his hands, “what was in that vial?!”
Sam laughed and then said in a low, grim voice, “Oh, my, Roland, I fear I might have gone overboard. For that vial contained a most hazardous chemical found naturally only in the depths of Excalibur Lake. What’s the common name for it? Oh, yes. Water.”
Roland grunted. “If only you could use your gifts for good and not mischief.”
“Uh, which gifts?” asked Sam. “You mean my gift for endurant walking 1½ miles to Excalibur Lake or my gift for filling my glasses with water?”