Concordia: Seeing your transmutation engine in action is giving me fond memories of playing Sigmar’s Garden. Anataeus: Sigmar’s what? Concordia: You never played Sigmar’s Garden? I thought everyone knew this game. You put the marbles in a certain pattern, and— Anataeus: Marbles? Concordia: Isn’t that what these are? Anataeus: They’re elemental proxies! Glass spheres that represent various types of atoms. Concordia: Little glass spheres are commonly known as marbles. Anataeus: We never call them marbles. Concordia: To anyone who’s not a highly trained alchemist, that’s what they are. Now, why don’t you give Sigmar’s Garden a try? Anataeus: Fine, I suppose. ----- After winning 1 game. Concordia: Fun, isn’t it? Anataeus: This is not at all how alchemy works! The cardinal elements, for example— Concordia: It’s just a little amusement, Anataeus. When we were children we used to sneak in here and play it when the alchemist was away. Anataeus: What? You were totally unsupervised near the transmutation engine? Concordia: We only used the marbles, Anataeus. Calm yourself. Anataeus: They’re not marbles, they’re representations of the fundamental building blocks of the universe! Concordia: They’re also little glass spheres. I’ll flick one at you! Anataeus: Ah, stop it! You can’t play with delicate equipment like this. Concordia: They’re far cheaper than the rest of your kit, you know. Being that they are marbles. Anataeus: I’d still appreciate it if you didn’t treat them so casually. Concordia: Well, we did it for years. You really had no idea about Sigmar’s Garden? Anataeus: Not at all. Why would the university bother to teach something so frivolous? ----- After winning 10 games. Concordia: For something “so frivolous,” you do seem to be rather enjoying yourself. Anataeus: Maybe a little. There are some strategies to pick up on... Concordia: Yes, you can win more reliably with a bit of practice and attention. Anataeus: So who was Sigmar? Why am I clearing his garden? Concordia: You tell me. Anataeus: Me? Why would I know? Concordia: Because he was an alchemist from long ago. Wasn’t he? Anataeus: I’ve never heard of anyone named Sigmar. Concordia: You’re quite certain? Anataeus: It’s possible he was one of those apocryphal folk-hero alchemists. Imaginary, in other words. Concordia: Or it’s possible you didn’t pay attention in your history courses. Anataeus: Please. I was a model student. ----- After winning 25 games. Concordia: Model student indeed! First you didn’t know Sigmar’s Garden, and now it turns out you’ve never heard of Sigmar either. Anataeus: We haven’t even established that he was real! Concordia: Go research it in a library, then. Surely you’ll find something interesting. Anataeus: I suppose I could— wait, did you just give me an order? Concordia: For someone who specializes in alchemy, you’re oddly resistant to learning more about its past. Anataeus: That kind of subject matter was frowned upon at the university... there were a few specialists in the histories and legends, but the serious students focused on modern practice. Anataeus: Nobody thinks there’s much reason to dwell on the past. Concordia: That’s a shame. When people who aren’t alchemists think about alchemy, they think of the old stories. It would be good to be familiar with them, at least. Anataeus: I’m afraid those old stories don’t always give a very positive view of the field... Concordia: It varies, certainly. Anataeus: For now, I think I’ll just play some more. Concordia: A perfectly acceptable choice. ----- After winning 50 games. Anataeus: So when you played this as children, Van Tassen’s alchemists never objected to having a bunch of kids running around in the lab? Concordia: They never knew we were there. Anataeus: Surely they’d notice the elemental proxies strewn everywhere. The “marbles,” as you like to call them. Concordia: The Van Tassen alchemists before you barely set foot in the alchemy lab. Anataeus: That’s some joke. Concordia: Not at all. I think they looked down on actual alchemy and saw themselves more as part of the family's inner circle. Anataeus: Ridiculous. Concordia: They’d advance their agendas, involve themselves in alliances and intrigues, undercut rivals… Anataeus: My professor pointedly advised me to avoid all that. Concordia: I agree with your professor. I don’t like that conniving sort of person. Anataeus: She must be used to her advice going unheeded. Concordia: Quite likely. Believe it or not, you’re the first alchemist I’ve met who truly focuses on alchemy! ----- After winning 75 games. Anataeus: So who was it who originally taught you the game? Concordia: My father. He was a provisioner too, in better times than these… Anataeus: And I suppose someone taught him as a child as well, and it was passed down in that manner… but why, though? What’s the use of preserving this knowledge? Concordia: It’s good for taking one’s mind off troubles, isn’t it? Anataeus: I suppose… Concordia: In fact, I specifically suggested it because I can tell you’ve been under quite a bit of strain lately. Anataeus: You can? I— I hadn’t realized it was showing so clearly. Concordia: It was rather obvious. Anataeus: I see… Concordia: In times like these, it can help to put one’s mind in service of a simple activity. Concordia: Otherwise it will wander to other, larger, more frightening thoughts. Anataeus: I suppose I do find the game rather relaxing, after a fashion. Concordia: I’m glad to hear it. ----- After winning 100 games. Anataeus: Concordia, thank you for suggesting this game. As it turns out, I do like it. Concordia: You’re welcome, Anataeus. It makes me happy to see you’re enjoying it. Concordia: Especially after you called it frivolous at first. Anataeus: But it is frivolous! It’s just... good at being that. Concordia: It’s good to learn about things that aren’t alchemy, don’t you think? Anataeus: There’s no point. This little game just happens to be an exception to the rule. Concordia: You spent your life up to now dedicated to becoming an alchemist. Concordia: But now that you are one, you should learn the rest. Anataeus: The rest? Concordia: The rest of life. The parts that aren’t about alchemy. Anataeus: You mean the useless parts. Concordia: You’ll simply have to allow me to be your instructor in those matters. Anataeus: Will I, now? Sounds like you aren’t giving me any choice. Concordia: There’s something I like about you, Anataeus. You know when you don’t have a choice.