Ethan Wright and the Alchemist's Order, (Book 2) Read Free

Ethan, excitedly.
    “And give Marcus the wallopin’ he deserves,” muttered Auren.
    “How about it, Availia?” asked Edison, politely.
    Availia nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do it. Can we only enter one? I mean, I don’t want to go by myself. Can I have a training partner or something?”
    “Well, every squad under a professor may only enter one student, and yes, you can have a training partner,” explained Edison.
    “I’ll be your training partner,” volunteered Stanley. “I … really don’t have anywhere to go this summer — besides, should be a good match.”
    “It’s settled then. I will have you entered and Stanley will assist me in your preparation,” replied Edison. “One last thing before everyone’s off for the summer. Since we are intending to grow the school — you know … no sense in having just four students. I was approved to bring in a new professor.”
    “A new professor?”
    “Yes, only four students per professor allowed — even in alchemy. He is a friend of mine — known him for years. He is an extremely talented alchemist and I am sure he will add some new perspective on your training — as well as bring in four new students in the next Selectus. I have a lot of research to do,” giggled Edison. “I mean, ultimately the selections are his … but, I may have some insight to offer.”
    “Can’t wait to meet him,” said Ethan, smiling.
    “Yeah! He could teach me some new spin moves!” exclaimed Auren.
    Availia and Stanley said their goodbyes and walked back toward the academy. Ethan and Auren started to head inside the hut, but Edison held Ethan back.
    “Do you mind if I borrow your alchemy jacket? I want to check the mending process,” asked Edison.
    “Um … yeah, no problem,” answered Ethan, taking off his jacket and handing it over to Edison. “See you in one and thirty days, Edison.” He followed Auren inside and moments later, a flash of light shot through the windows.
    “See you in thirty and one, my boy,” whispered Edison, now standing alone in the market district. He turned and walked past Lippy’s and down the cobblestone street. He entered a dimly lit building with a faded and battered sign that read The Antediluvian . One of the few shops that had not recently received a facelift, the dank and musty building was unkempt and did not inspire upstanding patrons to enter.
    “I didn’t think I’d see you in here again — at least not after you spent all your retirement on those silly jackets,” said a voice from the corner of the shop.
    “A wise investment in some talented students, wouldn’t you agree?” argued Edison, having a seat across from the voice whose face was hidden in shadow.
    “I have to admit, I’m not sold on the Orobori,” the figure said, referring to Ethan. “I rather like the one who can’t die though — interested in keeping an eye on his career in alchemy.”
    “Indeed,” replied Edison. “What do you make of this then?” he asked, placing Ethan’s alchemy jacket on the counter. “It’s Ethan’s.”
    The man leaned forward and revealed his face in the light. A scar ran down the side of his narrow visage. Experience nestled itself inside the wrinkles that ran across his forehead. He examined the damaged sleeve and in a raspy voice he grated, “don’t do repairs. Heck, you can’t repair these things … they repair themselves — you oughtta know that, Edison.”
    “I wasn’t interested in the healing process, but rather this,” he replied, flipping the jacket over to reveal the stripe down the center.
    “Yeah … and? One stripe means he’s a level one alchemist — pretty low for a kid that’s been practicing for a year and is supposed to be some miracle brat … don’t you think?” muttered the man.
    “Look more closely,” insisted Edison, looking rather pleased with himself.
    The man stared at Edison for a second and then set the jacket back onto the counter. “Hope you’re not wasting my time — I do