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Fairy Tail: The Alchemist
墨書 Inktalez
Isaac Newton, one of the most famous scientists in history, would have preferred that his name did not carry such weight. It might sound confusing, but it’s quite simple: one Newton is our protagonist, while the other is the renowned historical figure.
Newton's parents named him after the great scientist, perhaps hoping their child would follow in his footsteps. However, their wishes were not fulfilled; Newton had no interest in science whatsoever. This wasn’t due to a lack of desire to learn—his true passion lay in the realm of mysticism.
Yes, he was fascinated by things like Divination, Stargazing, and Qi Men Dun Jia. Unfortunately, accessing such mystical knowledge in real life is far from easy, let alone finding genuine sources of it. Yet when discussions about these topics arose, Newton was anything but shy. It was a pity he never thought to use this interest to attract women; after all, discussing astrology and blood types could have garnered some attention.
Alas, with such potential at his disposal, Newton failed to appreciate it. He understood that without money, he could achieve nothing in this world. Thus, his desire for wealth was quite intense. He needed funds for books on mysticism, stones imbued with mysterious energies, Tarot cards, and tickets to mystical tribes—all essential for his pursuits. After all, he couldn’t just ask his parents for money to chase after magic and truth; they would surely think him insane. So he never considered asking them for financial support and had even written his own will.
Running around outside, it was possible that Newton might fall off a cliff or go missing. The number of people who disappear in the wild is staggering. However, he should be grateful that fate gave him another chance—though if this opportunity involved being reborn as an infant and abandoned in a vast forest, he felt less inclined to express gratitude. Right now, all he wanted to do was curse someone; unfortunately, all that came out were the cries of a baby.
“Huh? Is that a baby crying?”
An old man heard Newton’s cries and approached.
“A child? Abandoned by someone?”
The old man frowned slightly, a look of distaste crossing his face.
“What a nuisance—a crying brat! Might as well leave it here.”
At this moment, Newton should have been thankful that he couldn’t understand what the man was saying because just when someone finally arrived to help him, that person decided not to intervene due to their own troubles. If this had been in his past life, Newton would have surely spat out a mouthful of saltwater at the old man.
“Wah wah! Wah wah!”
“Shut up! You little pest!”
The old man approached Newton with an angry expression and shouted at him. Newton was clearly taken aback.
“Does this old man have no sympathy at all?”
Newton was bewildered; however, this person was his only hope for salvation and he absolutely could not let him leave. So he immediately stopped crying and stared blankly at the old man.
“Oh? You can understand me?”
Now intrigued, the old man realized that communicating with ghosts was often difficult due to their inability to comprehend language. But having a responsive child like this could prove useful if trained properly from the start.
“Alright then, I’ll take you in.”
And thus began the unfortunate life of Newton.
There is a saying that goes, "Have you ever seen the sunrise at four in the morning?" But did you see the sun at four in the morning when you were two or three years old? Newton could confidently tell you he hadn't, because there simply wasn't any sun at that hour!
At one year old, things were fine, but by the time he turned two—don't doubt it, it really was at two years old—just a year after the old man found Newton, he was called to work.
It came without warning. The first year, Newton was taken care of quite comfortably, but who would have thought the old man would suddenly decide to put him to work? Just the day before, he was still being fed, and then before dawn on the second day, the old man called him up. Newton was completely bewildered at that moment; it didn't matter that he didn't get up on his own—the old man simply picked him up. From then on, Newton began a life of early mornings and late nights.
Some might wonder what a little kid could possibly do. In fact, there was plenty he could do, especially since the old man owned a shop—a Magic Item Shop. Yes, this world truly had magic. When Newton saw a fireball appear in the old man's hand, he was genuinely excited. Perhaps that was why he chose not to run away but instead stayed there.
The place where the old man and Newton lived was just a small town. The only person in town who wielded magic was the old man himself, who also possessed some skills in crafting Magical Items. Newton could learn some magic from other places if only he could make it to town with his little body. However, learning magic wasn't as simple as it seemed. According to the old man, there existed something called the Magic Council and Guilds. To learn magic, one either had to awaken their innate talent or study under a teacher or join a wizard's Guild to self-study through books. Unfortunately for Newton, he had none of those options available and could only learn through the old man.
Fortunately for him, since the old man wanted Newton's help, he didn't hold back and taught him everything he knew about magic and item crafting. Essentially, every morning Newton would gather materials for crafting items, spend his mornings and afternoons helping in the shop, and then study with the old man in the evenings.
Interest proved to be the best teacher. Newton had always been fascinated by mysticism, and now that he had finally arrived in a real magical world, he eagerly absorbed all the magical knowledge imparted by the old man.
Another point of fortune for Newton was that this time around, the old man hadn't given him a name. So naturally, Newton decided to keep his original name. The old man didn't mind; he always referred to him as "little brat," while Newton called him "old geezer." In this regard, they were quite compatible.
Sadly, life doesn't always go as one wishes. The old man grew older; aging and illness are unavoidable. By the time Newton turned six, the old man was nearing his end.
"Kid."
The old man lay on his bed with a fierce expression on his face.
"What is it, old man?"
Newton didn't even look up; he kept his head down fiddling with something in his hands.
"There's a book in my wardrobe; go get it for me."
"This one?"
Newton walked over and found the book before handing it directly to the old man.
"Yes. From now on, it's yours..."
The old man's hand gently stroked the extremely worn cover of the book as a rare hint of nostalgia flickered in his eyes.
"This is our family's Alchemy technique. Unfortunately, I lack talent; after studying my whole life, I've only managed to create some trinkets. I have no children of my own; I hope you can help carry on our family's Alchemy legacy."
"Alchemy technique?"
Newton took the book, flipped through it, and then placed it on the table.
"I might not stay here for long."
"It doesn't matter, but I hope you can inherit our family name..."
"Don't tell me you're Isaac..."
Newton felt as if he was about to kneel; didn't this person fear being investigated?
"Yes, I am Isaac. I hope you can recreate the glory of the Isaac family from back in the day."
The old man stared intently at Newton.
"Newton Isaac, that name has a nice ring to it."
Newton sighed and nodded.
"I..."
Before he could finish his sentence, he realized the old man had already passed away.
"Tsk, safe travels, old man."
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