Of all the mystic traditions practiced in ancient times, alchemy-- known also as 'the Craft', or the Great Work--has had the greatest effects on modern civilization. If not for the fumbling attempts of Dark Millennium 'alchemists' to reproduce the legendary transmutation of the elements, modern science and psychology as we know them would not exist.
Despite this, it must be noted that Paracelsus and his fellows never really came close to the true nature of the Craft. They could not have, for one and all relied purely on brute physical methods such as distillation and calcination, and failed to realize that true alchemy is an intrinsically magical art.
The origins of the Great Work date back to the beginnings of mankind's second rise to civilization, the Golden Imperium. Among the first generation of Asteroid Belt colonists was a wizard by the name of Agathodaimon, remembered even today as the legendary father of alchemy.
It was Agathodaimon who first discovered that the twelve Asteroid Forges could do more than merely smelt and refine metal ores; given the proper magical 'push', they would *transform* their contents--sometimes into other familiar substances, occasionally into something entirely new and strange.
While other wizards carried on his work with the Forges, cataloguing and studying their creations, Agathodaimon was not satisfied; the Forges were only twelve in number, and rather small, and it would be far more convenient if the new materials could be produced on a larger scale. It took him many years, and an insane amount of effort, but ultimately he did come up with a combination of magics and physical processes that allowed transmutation; if still on a small scale, and requiring a great deal of time, at least it was independent of the Belt. It was not until the twilight of his life that Agathodaimon almost literally stumbled upon the Alkahest and realized its potential as a shortcut; sadly, he did not fully realize its potential as a destructive force until the very *end* of his life (fortunately he'd had the sense to keep copies of his notebooks far away from his laboratory).
Throughout the Golden Imperium, Slaver Domination, and Silver Millennium, the craft of alchemy thrived. Countless alchemical elements were discovered, though actual uses were found for only a few (records speak of such substances as klaudianos, leukargenos, and latona, easily produced but having no known practical purpose); Atlantis's power was based partly on its total control of orichalcum, the formula for which was a state secret.
When the Silver Millennium fell, all the old arts fell with it; alchemy, like all magics of that era, was highly mana-intensive and simply failed. The worldwide cataclysms consequent to the Fall buried or destroyed all traces of the old kingdoms, consigning the products of the Great Work to the bowels of the earth or the depths of the seas.
Despite all this, the *idea* of magic remained in the minds of men, and alchemy more than most seemed to stick. The concept of transmutation of the elements had always been loosely bound up with that of physical and spiritual transcendence, a consequence of the craft's association with the Forges, and in the Dark Millennia these aspects came to dominate the legends.
Actual alchemical lore was preserved here and there; the Martian colonizers of Egypt passed down a considerable body of knowledge, which sadly became seriously distorted over the ages as it passed to Greece and then Europe. Arcadian traditions eventually mutated into the forerunners of Taoist alchemy. Several African cultures took to mingling alchemy and necromancy, with some regrettable success. Puck and his followers made use of the Craft in their attempts to restore the Great Portal. And, of course, the peripatetic Mazael clan preserved their ancestor's extensive notes on the subject with their usual stubborn refusal to let go of anything.
In Europe, the philosophical aspects of the Great Work assumed truly odd, almost decadent overtones, while the magic necessary to the practical side had been almost completely lost; still, European alchemy gradually developed into modern chemistry, providing a solid foundation for the emerging physical sciences (and, through Carl Jung, psychology). Taoists seeking the Elixir of Immortality brewed poisons more often than not, but they did rediscover gunpowder along the way. Meanwhile, the Mazaels adapted alchemy to their unique brand of low-powered magic, and devoted a few decades to stamping out the African abomination. The scant handful of true alchemists around the world took care in any case never to reveal their secrets, as on top of invoking the general fear of witchcraft, bulk transmutation would have played havoc with local economies.
The rebirth of magic with the dawning of the Crystal Millennium
naturally included the craft; such noted alchemists as Michael Maxwell
and Tomoe Souichiro openly passed on their knowledge to intrigued
students of Crystal Tokyo University and elsewhere. Now as never before,
the products of the Great Work are part and parcel of the new age of
magic mingled with science.
As Agathodaimon discovered long ago, base matter can, through long and dangerous magicks, be transmuted--into either other sorts of base matter, or into the unique and highly magical alchemical elements. The actual mechanics of transmutation were never understood in the slightest, however, until the late twentieth century; modern atomic and quantum theories shed a dim light on the subject, and experimentation in the early years of the Crystal Millennium confirmed the alchemists' guesses.
Simply put, alchemical transmutation involves separating subatomic particles into *individual quarks*, and reassembling them in ways that the laws of physics just do not allow.
Using physical energies to split, say, a proton, is essentially pointless for these purposes; the energy necessary to disassemble a proton into its component quarks will create *new* quarks that would promptly bond with the bits of ex-proton to form new particles. Hence, you will *never* find a free quark in nature.
Supernature *can* manage it. Under most circumstances, though, a cloud of free quarks will promptly vanish in a puff of logic; only if further magicks are promptly applied can the quarks be induced to reassemble themselves into new and different atoms--atoms that do not obey Pauli's Exclusion Principle, atoms which may have multiple electrons occupying a single energy-state, or odd gaps in the inner electron shells. Atoms that do not fit *anywhere* on the Periodic Table of the Elements. Atoms that are *loaded* with mana, and which possess all manner of interesting physical and magical properties.
Alchemical elements fall into two basic categories: the Essential Elements, each created from a single, pure mundane element; and the Fused or Rebis elements, compounded from two or more of the mundanes. There are, potentially, *thousands* of alchemical elements--some of which are apparently completely useless, some extremely dangerous, some even helpful in one way or another. Research alchemists are discovering more every year, with no end in sight...
It all begins with the Alkahest.
Under normal circumstances, it takes weeks or months to work the spells of transmutation; mot only do the magicks take time, but the substances to be altered must be put through all manner of purifying processes--distillation, calcination, coagulation, all kinds of mean nasty ugly things. Ultimately, the pure product is placed within a magically-shielded container (the Philosophical Egg), itself inserted into an enchanted threefold oven (the athanor or 'forneau cosmique', cosmic furnace), and subjected to the Ignis Innaturalis, the spell of the Natural or Secret Fire, which will--over the course of weeks or months-- reduce the material within the Egg to a mass of free quarks imprinted with the magical signature of the atoms to which they once belonged (called by pre-Crystal Millennium alchemists the 'Perfect Black') and subsequently induce it to re-form.
Agathodaimon's discovery of the Alkahest made things a bit easier.
Alkahest itself is relatively easy to create--there are quite a few ingredients to worry about, but nothing *too* rare or expensive, and it only takes a few days--and once made, it greatly simplifies any other transmutation.
It's rather a pity that the stuff is so incredibly dangerous.
Alkahest, the so-called Universal Solvent, is simply an 'acid' that rips atomic bonds apart, then splits the atoms themselves into their component particles, then tears the particles into free quarks. Almost instantly. A single drop will utterly disintegrate approximately fifteen pounds of nearly any material on Earth.
*Nearly* any. For one thing, it has no effect whatsoever on any other alchemical element. (Neither do any other transmutation spells. The magical elements cannot be further refined or fused by any force known to man; many alchemists believe the indestructible materials of the Ancients were created by a kind of 'second-stage alchemy' as yet undiscovered.) Nor can it dissolve force-fields, or psychoplasmic matter. (Most equipment in a properly equipped alchemist's lab is reinforced with energy-fields, especially the athanor and distillation bottles (aludels).) It ignores matter in gaseous state (meaning that if you open a vial of the stuff it won't start dissolving the air above it). Finally, each batch of Alkahest will not affect a single mundane, metallic, non-radioactive element chosen by the alchemist during the transmutation process; this allows the stuff to be stored in non-magical containers (ideally the metal involved should be sturdy, yet comparatively rare; Michael Maxwell favors iridium). Combining these different isotopes of Alkahest is a *bad* idea; they will immediately attempt to dissolve one another, exploding with a force of ten times the equivalent mass of TNT and scattering bits of random mundane elements like shrapnel.
One should be aware, also, that the Alkahest, once applied to a given object, tends to *cling* to that object, not dripping off until said object has been completely disintegrated.
So: Take the ingredients you wish to transmute, process them properly, place them in an Alkahest-proof container, fire up the revised version of the Ignis Innaturalis, then drop in the appropriate amount of Universal Solvent and *stand back*. If all goes well, you have a quantity of the desired alchemical element. If not... hope your insurance premiums are paid up.
1) Essential Elements
-Adamantite (adamant, adamas)
(Source: Plato's Timaeus)
"The scion of gold, which is very hard because of its density and dark in color, is called adamant."
--Plato, Timaeus, p. 59
This jet-black material, somewhat like metal and somewhat like stone, is simply the most durable substance humans have ever been able to create. Far tougher than even the most advanced mundane alloys, but nearly impossible to work once it has been formed, it comes as a surprise to learn that adamantite is in fact the alchemical essence of gold.
Adamantite saw a fair amount of use in the Silver Millennium as armor or (rarely) weapon material; it was usually necessary to create it in the desired shape, necessitating some really odd Alkahest-containers. Endymion's black armor may well be of adamantite.
-Azoth
(Source: many alchemical texts)
Essential Mercury, a non-poisonous reddish powder, azoth is in fact the Philosopher's Stone itself: a single grain, dropped into ten pounds of molten lead, will instantly transmute the lot (and itself) into pure gold. This traditionally did little to unbalance the Silver Millennium economy, as most of the created gold went straight into adamantite production (see above). Many Dark Millennium alchemists kept themselves solvent through careful use of the Stone.
2) Fusions
-Alkahest (alchahest)
(Source: many alchemical texts)
See above for properties. A batch of the Alkahest (its importance in alchemical operations dictates a respectful form of address) is created by mingling one pint of pure water, two drams of assorted rare-earth elements, one carat each of twelve different powdered gemstones, one dram each of seven different herbs, a dram of one powdered non-radioactive mundane metal, and a single drop of blood from a mammal, a reptile, a fish, and a bird. (Precise details will not be given here, in case anyone reading this is silly enough to want to actually try it.)
-Orichalcum (orichalc)
(Source: Plato's Atlantis)
"And they covered the whole circuit of the outermost wall [of the city of Atlantis] with a veneer of bronze, they fused tin over the inner wall, and orichalc gleaming like fire over the wall of the acropolis itself."
--Plato, Critias, p. 116
While it out-glitters ordinary gold by a long shot, orichalcum is in fact a fusion of gold, silver, copper, and powdered diamond. The formula was kept secret by the Atlantean government until shortly before the Fall; it is unclear exactly how it got out, but a certain extremely snoopy court wizard of Mu is known to have left his descendants the recipe.
Orichalcum serves two purposes: it is an excellent conductor of magical energies, serving much the same function as copper wire; and, when so energized, it emanates anti-gravitic force (meaning that modern magisci devices incorporating orichalcum wiring but not meant to take flight must be deliberately made slightly heavier than normal). While no match for the Ancient drive-stones, as it provides only antigravity and not propulsion, orichalcum was still valuable in planetbound, wind-driven skyships.
-Sandastros
(source: Pliny)
A quartzlike stone, containing golden particles that shine like stars--usually in the pattern of one or more constellations--sandastros is prized for its uses in Zodiac magic.
-Vitriol
(Source: many alchemical texts)
The Sovereign Glue, an incredibly powerful bonding agent that fortunately works only on stone and metal, is composed of seven drams each of pure water, powdered copper, sulfur, and rare-earth elements. It bonds on contact and can only be dissolved by magic; contact with a tiny amount of Alkahest will cause vitriol to lose its stickiness and come free in a solid mass.
(Oh yes: one dram = 1/8 oz.)
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Fabricius, Johannes; Alchemy: The Medieval Alchemists and their Royal Art
Lindsay, Jack; The Origins of Alchemy in Graeco-Roman Egypt
de Rola, Stanislas Klossowski; Alchemy: The Secret Art
Roob, Alexander; Alchemy & Mysticism: The Hermetic Museum
Sechi, Stephan, and Taylor, Vernie; The Arcanum