The Alchemist and the Bridge

Hey all. As some of you know I recently took part in Writing Battle’s Autumn 2024 Short Story competition!

The competition has concluded, and while the results haven’t been announced we are now allowed to share our short stories with the world.

You can find the story on their site: https://writingbattle.com/story/debrief/70a915a5-38e2-42a6-ac09-e48fc7382cf0?uploadedStory or read on below!

I hope you enjoy.

The Alchemist and the Bridge.

She died last night.

There’s no other way to say it. With all my power, all my abilities, I still couldn’t stop the plague that swept through our small town, ravaging and burning and devouring as it went. I held her as she coughed, watched as the bile spilled out from her like a flowing river of red puss. All her beauty, sullied and rotten by this horrible blight. 

I keep remembering her. Tiny snippets, mundane days and boring afternoons we spent together. Her beautiful smile, her hair flowing in the breeze as we lazed on the hillside overlooking the bay. What I would give to go back to her then… What I would do to have her with me now…

But then I remember her face, pale and slack, as the undertaker heaved her onto his cart, bound for the grave.

I must save her. I will not stop. I cannot stop. 

The city soon disappears behind me, hidden amongst the rolling hills of the countryside. How beautiful, I think, watching the stretching plains and serene fields. One could almost forget the plague rushing through our valleys, stealing our loved ones from our arms.

I see the bridge soon enough and, beyond it, the Graveyard. I reach into my pouch, assuring myself that I have the required ingredients. The wine, the bread, the herbs and sinews. Everything I need to cast my spell, to bring her back.

This will work. This has to work. She is not dead, not truly. Not yet. Not as long as I can save her.

The bridge stretches before me, a cobbled path leading out over the water, the barred iron gate awaiting me at the far end. It’s so close, I can almost make out the carved letters adorning the tombstones. I look back, drinking in the sunlight of the serene countryside one last time. A small part of me wants to return, to go back to our home and live our quiet little life. 

But that is no life at all. She won’t be there. 

I feel the air shift as I take my first step onto the decaying bridge, the cool fog engulfing me, the sky shifting to a dark violet shade. This is old, this place. I can feel it in my bones, sense it in the chill that runs through me. I should not be here, and yet I must persevere. I must. What else am I to do? There is nothing without her.

“You must be lost.” The voice startles me, ringing out through the cold air. I whirl and see the young woman standing beside me. How had she gotten there? I surely would have seen her a moment ago. 

“I don’t think so.” I tell her. “I know where I mean to go.”

“Yes,” she replies, “you mean to enter my Graveyard. Many have tried their hand, though few have returned. What is it you seek, exactly? Why have you come here?”

“My wife.” I say. “She’s buried here.”

“You have come to pay your respects?”

“No.”

“Ah, I see. You’ve come to retrieve her. You want her back.”

“Yes.”

“Go home, little sorcerer. Your alchemy will do you no good here. Not in my domain.”

“You defend the bridge? You would stand against me?” I do not wish to hurt this woman, but if she should bar my way I will not hesitate. I must reach the Graveyard.

“I defend the bridge, but not from you. This is my domain, my home. It is where I belong, and all are free to enter. But heed my warning, friend. You may not leave if you do.”

“I must.”

“Very well then. Your wife lies in my soil, at peace. If you can cross the bridge you may yet be reunited. Would you take this chance?”

“I would.”

“Then go.” 

I turn and look down the bridge, the shadows drinking in the light. As I turn back the woman is gone, and I am once again alone on the cobbles. I push on, taking my first hesitant steps towards the Graveyard. 

As I move I feel as if the air has turned to molasses, a thick slurry through which it is a ceaseless battle even to step forward. I fight with all my strength, and manage only two steps before collapsing.

No, this cannot be the end. I will reach her, I must reach her. 

“It’s alright.” The woman appears beside me.

“No!” I cry. 

“You have come to understand me? Who I am?”

“Yes, I think. You are Death. The Graveyard is yours.”

“Clever boy.” She chuckles.

“It’s your fault! You took her from me!”

“I did.” She replies. “I took her, as one day I will take you.”

“Why?” I can feel the tears pushing past my eyes. “What cruel beast must you be, to do such a thing?”

“I am not cruel. It was her time. Perhaps you will soon see my touch for the mercy that it is. It is a gift, alchemist. Bestowed upon man long ago.”

“I revoke you!” I cried. “I hate you, I shall never surrender!”

“Carry on then.” The woman stands. “See how far you can crawl.”

I push forward, dragging myself through the haze. As I crawl I see her before me. All the memories of her laugh, all the images of happiness I had stored in my memory come flooding back. Even days I did not know I remembered. Every night spent together, every meal shared and joke laughed. Every second of her fills my mind and refuses to let go. 

I must carry on. 

I feel my fingers blister and bleed as the skin peels away, feel the thick air dragging me back, pulling flesh from bone. 

I do not care. I push through, and my grasping hands burst forth into open air. I am through. I gasp, splayed out on the floor. 

I am one step closer. I stand, continuing to walk.

“It won’t work.” The voice comes again, the woman is beside me as I walk. “You cannot revive her.”

“I will. I must.”

“Still you doubt me? Still you think you can steal her away from me? Many men, far greater than yourself, have tried and failed.” Her eyes are heavy, I can almost see the countless faces she’s seen reflected in her pupils. 

“None had a necessity so great as I.”

“Oh, didn’t they? You are not the first to love, not the first to lose.”

“Please.” I turn to her. “I must be allowed to try. Even once, even if I fail, I must attempt my spell.”

“You will try, and fail.”

“Take me then.” I cry, grasping her about the shoulders. “Take anyone else, just let her go! I’m an alchemist, my soul must be worth something.”

“One soul is not equal to another, sorcerer. You know this.”

“Then what choice do I have? My spell must work, even if my life is to be final ingredient.”

“And if it fails?”

“Then I suppose I will have saved the undertaker a trip.”

I push on, leaving the woman behind. 

For what feels like hours I trudge along the cobbled bridge, the iron bars of the Graveyard gate seemingly stretching further and further into the distance as I advance. Some trickery, perhaps. It matters not. I must advance.

“She must have been special, for you to come this far.” The woman is standing over by the railing.

“She was.” I say, glancing back at the way I have come. I am nearly across the bridge now. I can barely see the sunshine and green pastures from here. There is only the bridge, only the Graveyard ahead. 

“Come here.” The woman says, beckoning me to follow her to the edge of the bridge. “I want to show you something.” She leans against the stone railing, pointing out into the water. 

“What is it?” I ask.

“I want you to see. Watch the waves, crashing against the shore. Each rears to life, wild and untamed, before crashing into the shore, finally receding back into the sea from which it came. This is life, and death. It is as a single finger placed into a pool of water, and thinking itself whole, fears to be removed. When the finger is withdrawn, when you die, you will return to the ocean. You will return to the whole. Do not mourn her, friend. Celebrate that she has become whole.”

“But she’s gone.” I do not even try to hide the tears anymore. “She’s gone from me. How can I live without her?”

“You will. You have no choice.”

Her words sting me, piercing to my very heart. I know, in my soul, that she is right. I cannot win, cannot succeed. There is no chance of bringing her back to me, things will never again be as they were. I watch my tears splattering the stones as I crawl ever-forward. What use is there now, to return to my empty little home in my empty little town and live my empty little life?  

No, there is only forward. Whatever my fate may hold, wherever she is, it is at the end of this stygian bridge. 

A horrible wind sunders me as I walk. With each step my skin is flayed further. With each inch my flesh grows sickly and pale, a poor conjuration that barely hides the skeleton beneath. I picture, for a moment, what a shambling visage I must appear. Some horrid monster, a creature I may once have attacked on sight, as is my duty as an alchemist. 

I do not care.

Another step and my flesh is all but gone now, I am a shambling skeleton, held together only by the realm in which I trespass. My haggard robes hang from my bones. Another step and my eyes are taken from me, yet still I see. Ahead is the Graveyard, so close now I can almost reach out and grab the iron gate that bars the way. 

“This is it.” Death is standing as the entrance. “I must say, I am impressed little one. You have persevered. You have shown yourself strong. You have made it. What will you do now?”

“I will save her.”

“Even now, after all I have said? You would blindly push forward, even with no hope of reward.”

“I would.”

“You are very foolish, alchemist.”

“I am, mistress.”

“Very well then. I shall offer you a choice. She is dead now, and gone forever. This cannot be undone, even by me. But if you carry on, whatever may lay ahead, you will be at peace. I will enfold you in my cloak, and we shall carry on to the other side together.” She paused. 

“Step back, however, and I shall allow you to leave. You may return to your life and live out your mortal days. You will age, wither, and die, and will one day return to my Graveyard. But I offer you a life first.” 

I look back, and I cannot see the world of the living anymore. There is no sunshine, no green fields, no life behind me. Only the ever-stretching bridge, crawling ceaselessly into darkness. 

I remember my mother, smiling down at me. I remember all the people I’ve known, all the shining friends I’ve had along the way. I think of my life, of all the good I could do if I were to return. 

But then I see her face. Radiant and everlasting. She awaits me, beyond the gate, I can feel it. We would be together, finally at peace. My journey could end.

There is no choice.

I step forward, and a warm light engulfs us as the woman embraces me. I embrace her back, and we step into the light together. 

“Thank you, Lady.” I say.

“Rest now.” She tells me. “Rest and be together, forever.”

The warmth consumes me, and I am whole.

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