Things are never as they seem.
[Highest Rank: #41 Steampunk, #22 Dieselpunk]]
For seventeen-year old Alexander Rosengrant, the recent war in Wunderstrande was anything but victorious. Haunted by visions of his friends' last memories as soldiers, Al...
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Curiosity lured me in with the gathering crowd, prompting Castor, Sheridan, and Jayce to follow my lead.
The colorfully-clad man known as Henrie Delavigne leapt onto the platform and did a little jig, much to the crowd's delight. However, when the music stopped abruptly, so did Henrie. He threw his hood over his head and clasped his hands together. Nearby lantern light faded to a mysterious glow, casting a hush over the eager crowd.
"Years ago, our ancestors discovered an enthralling force of nature, the very same made famous by the Great Artemidorus," began Henrie in a theatrical tone. "Some call it magic. Others call it science. To us, it's simply known as... the Alchemic Arts!"
In that moment, he reached up and clapped his hands together dramatically, creating a rainbow-hued explosion of sparkles and wisps of smoke above his head.
The crowd gasped and immediately burst into applause.
"They don't teach that in school," Castor said to the professor. "Of course, street performances are all about the dramatics."
"Ha, dramatics. You know what I call it?" Jayce whispered in my ear. "Proper hocus pocus."
I ignored her and watched intently as Henrie juggled several vials. One by one, he emptied their contents into a large glass container and expertly lit a small flame beneath it with a wave of his hand. In a flurry of scraping, burning, melting, and mixing, the adept cooked up a blue-green mixture, which glowed on its own accord.
"Perpetual Fire," Henrie announced, displaying a tube of the luminescent solution. "Wunderstrande's lifeblood."
"That's what our building materials are made with," Castor explained to me while the crowd applauded. "That's why everything glows."
"The City of Extraordinary Light," I reflected. Then, it hit me: The Clairvoyance Clock's exterior must have been made of the same solution. What else could account for the never-ending glow?
"But what happens when you mix Perpetual Fire with a dangerous explosive?" Henrie asked. "Anyone?"
One little girl near the platform gasped and raised her hand.
Henrie knelt closer to her level. "Yes, dear?"
"BOOM!" she yelled, causing the audience to burst into laughter.
"Boom, indeed!" answered Henrie, rising to his full height. He waltzed around the table to grab a small, wooden box, pinched a powdery substance from inside it, and sprinkled the sample into the blue-green goo. Working fast, he dumped the mixture into a medium-sized tube, gave it a quick shake, and set it at the edge of the platform.
Within seconds, the tube shot into the air and exploded into a vibrant display. Each burst left streaks of color across the early evening sky.
Henrie bowed as a combination of "oohs" and "ahhs" filled the square. "But ladies and gentlemen, alchemy isn't always fun and games. Sometimes, it can produce ghastly effects. For this next experiment, I fervently ask that you do not try this at home. Of course, since I mentioned that, I know about half of you are considering trying this at home."