Nodnol. The city of alchemy and invention. Its bustling streets were filled with shops of every kind, from humble florists and clockmakers to whole emporiums of spas and beauty parlors, garages for automobile alchemy, and Kerical (alchemy and electricity, a power source hailed for its efficiency) research centres.
Shop chimneys spat out colours from across the spectrum, vibrant oranges and pinks to inky purples and blues, and everywhere, in every street and every shop, was the sense of determination and drive; the drive to be the next big inventor or the one who would make the next alchemical breakthrough.
Well, every shop except for one.
In a small street backing off from Nodnol’s main square was a neat, green painted shop with the words ‘Alchemical Pharmacy’ stencilled above its broad windows in large, white lettering. But it showed no dispays of powders or jars of loose ingredients as one might have expected to find in other alchemy-based pharmacies. No, instead the windows revealed only cardboard boxes, being packed by a silver haired man still wearing his dispensing apron. His movements were slow and weary, as if he was packing away his very life into those boxes.