Edwin M. Griffiths
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The Newt and Demon - Book 4 Chapters 13,14,15
🕑 Added 2023-08-04 11:01:00 +0000 UTCChapter 13
Wolves and the Spymaster
The sound of horns clashing echoed across the flat plain near Miana’s ranch. Those horns locked together, the heads of the demonic-looking creatures twisting to gain purchase. But the fight was broken up as soon as it started. A ranch hand ran over, swatting at the beasts and whistling. The Half-Ogre proprietor of the land came over to lean on the fence, watching as Theo observed the scuffle.
“Want a pet wolf?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
Scampering around the woman’s legs, clinging to her thigh-high leather boots and spitting balls of smoke, were no less than 5 salamanders. They were red, streaked with black with sharp teeth and slitted eyes. Tails thrashing, they sent a volley of harmless smoke at the alchemist. Alex glared at them, ready to release fire of her own.
“Seems like all you have is [Fire Salamanders],” Theo said.
“I’m working my way up.”
Miana found and bought the [Monster Tamer’s Core] on her own. She learned from those around her, tackling smaller creatures rather than going directly for the wolves. Unprompted, she explained how the core worked. Monsters spawned either in waves, or in dungeons, were unavailable. She could only tame those that wandered on their own, but they needed to be monsters. If she tried to tame a wild Karatan, that wouldn’t work. The creature needed to have a [Proto Core] inside them, or the magic would fail.
“Are we going to see some Half-Ogres riding some wolves?” Theo asked, chuckling. “That’s something I’d pay to see.”
“Agreed,” Miana said, turning around and snapping her fingers. A ranch hand stood at attention, stumbled over, then waited for orders. “Grab the Archduke’s [Pozwa Horns].”
The young Elf scrambled away. Theo produced the scrimshaw abomination from his inventory, handing it over for the woman to inspect.
“What’s this supposed to be?” she asked. “Those monster-dogs from the mine?”
“Supposed to be me.”
“Keep practicing.”
Benton’s idea for Theo to take something up unrelated to his cores reminded him of Miana. The tangled web of deception didn’t evade him, but he preferred not to think about it. She was without her cores for at least 20 years, forced to live life with no classes. But she got along. She did her best to hold up her end of the cursed deal. That web had fallen away. Untangled itself from her heart and revealed a hard-working woman with a passion for animals. There was no better core combination for her.
“There’s a moral question to consider,” Theo said. Instinctively, he let his senses fall onto the lodestone network. His golems were working away. Some complained there were few [Mana Constructs] left in the chest, but he’d get to that today. Before night fell. “I’d happily send my golems out to die. What about tamed creatures?”
“Think I haven’t thought of that?” Miana asked. She kicked behind her without looking, planting her foot on the head of a charging Pozwa. The creature chittered before backing away. “When I tame the wolves, I see them as support creatures. I won’t place one with irresponsible adventurers.”
“Fair enough,” Theo said.
The alchemist looked at Alex. He wouldn’t send her into combat, not even with her fire attacks. The gosling hopped from her bag, then onto the fence. She stretched her wings and honked, some of her downy feathers falling away. Her neck was growing longer, and the yellow coloration of her down was giving way to a pattern of gray. She honked at Miana, who picked at waxy feathers and shook her head.
“She’s growing fast,” Miana said. “But you need to help her remove all these little baby feathers. Look, you can see her adult feathers coming in.”
Theo inspected his goose, seeing that new feathers were emerging from her flesh. They were covered in a waxy coating, something that Miana picked off with her fingernails. Alex honked and chirped with excitement with every gesture, preening the area afterward. The Half-Ogre woman was always good with animals, but the alchemist didn’t know when she’d worked with birds. Let alone Earth geese.
“I’m wondering if her growth is tied to her level, or time,” Theo said.
“Likely both,” Miana said. “My Karatan have levels. Level 10 is adulthood for them, but we’re rearing a baby that’s pushing adulthood at level 5.”
“You can never discount the energy in the air,” Theo said. “I never thought it would work on animals, but here we are.”
“You wanted Demonic Karatan,” Miana said, leveling her gaze at the alchemist. “You wanted to warp my precious babies.”
Theo shrugged. That was true, but the plan didn’t work. To distract from an old sin, the alchemist gave Alex a command. “Shoot some fire, little fire-goose.”
Alex honked, tilting her head back before shooting a plume of fire into the air.
“How does that work?” Miana said, having taken several healthy steps backwards.
“Magic.”
Theo had fun spending time at the ranch. He whittled away the day, practicing some carving on the edge of the paddock. The Elven ranch hand returned after a while with the [Pozwa Horns], handing them over to the alchemist. His last task for the day wouldn’t come until nightfall. Rounding up adventurers for the event fell to Tresk, leaving the alchemist free to play with the Pozwa and Karatan. Alex wasn’t interested in playing with the farm animals, though.
Walking back to the center of town, Theo saw a troubling sight. Near the monolith, where a black portal normally rested, was nothing. Xol’sa’s condition was worsening. A sharp reminder drove its way into his mind, and he rushed back to his lab. Waving to Salire, then scrambling up the stairs into his lab, the alchemist found the ingredients to craft several [Regenerative Potions]. When Fenian returned, he’d need them if Uz’Xulven could be trusted.
Finishing up with the potions, another idea came into Theo’s mind. Salire shouted something at him as he rushed out of the Newt and Demon. He hurried north, then took the avenue west to the Adventurer’s Guild. The building was buzzing with activity, even after a partial-hush washed over those assembled. He spotted Tresk talking to some adventurers, but took the stairs to the second floor. One knock on Aarok’s door and he let himself in to find a meeting in progress.
Gwyn and Alise looked up, and Luras laughed.
“War meeting?” Theo asked, finding an inconspicuous corner to stand in. “I just have some concerns.”
“Since you’re here,” Aarok said, shifting in his seat. The air that blew from his air conditioner made the room bearable. It was normally too stuffy. “Alise wants to attack Rivers.”
Theo shrugged. So long as he didn’t have to deal with it, he didn’t really care how they resolved the problem with them. But they already had a plan. Didn’t they?
“I thought we had a strategy for that,” Theo said. “Surely Azrug talked about it.”
“Well, perhaps if that Alran Cherman son of a—”
“Remember to breathe,” Gwyn said, interrupting and placing a calming hand on Alise’s shoulder.
“That guy has enough gold and food stored to last a decade,” Luras said, grunting. “Didn’t see fit to share. Still doesn’t want to share.”
“An attack sounds expensive,” Theo said, waving the thought of war away. “And we’d drop our link with Gronro.”
“Azrug thinks we can starve them out,” Gwyn said. “Not literally. But with supplies.”
“We can also threaten to cut them off from the [Kingdom Core],” Theo said. “Resolve this a different way, we don’t need to fight. Get Alran to give up the Chair position and dissolve the others. He’s better as a spy than a leader.”
Aarok shared a look with Luras. “I like that.”
“Why are you here?” Alise asked.
“I think you meant to say ‘Why are you here, Archduke’,” Luras said, laughing. “Don’t forget the pecking order.”
“Theo entrusted Gwyn and I with Lady titles,” Alise snapped. She took a steadying breath.
“Alright, Alise,” Theo said. “We’ve been here before. What’s going on?”
“She’s stressed out,” Gwyn said. “She has too much work managing the other towns as well as Broken Tusk.”
“The new problem is the old problem,” Aarok said.
Theo folded his arms, tapping his foot. “I sent Gael Wavecrest to help you guys.”
“We’re getting him up to speed,” Gwyn said.
“Alright. Direct action time.” Theo opened his administration interface. He opened an empty conversation with Alran. Just between them.
[Theo]: Report to Broken Tusk tomorrow.
[Alran]: I haven’t done anything. Tell your dog to back off.
[Theo]: Report to Broken Tusk tomorrow or an army will arrive at your city. From the north and the south.
[Alran]: You don’t have to do this.
[Theo]: You won’t listen to anything else!!! Just show up, dude. We have a proposal for you, and you’ll like it.
[Alran]: Stop being coy.
[Theo]: You’re going to dissolve the Merchant Chairs, give the Duke position to someone else, and take a new title.
[Alran]: That’s all? You’re getting your undies in a twist over this? What’s the new position?
[Theo]: Spymaster.
[Alran]: Oh, my. I’ll be there tomorrow. Bright and early. You won’t be disappointed, Archduke. <3
Theo winced at the sight of the emoji heart. “Done.”
The group had been arguing. Theo’s focus was on the conversation, so he’d missed all of it.
“What?” Alise asked.
Theo pushed off from the wall and shrugged. “I messaged Alran. He’s interested in dissolving the Merchant Chairs, installing a new Duke, and taking the Spymaster position.”
“That was easy,” Aarok said.
Alise seemed to deflate. The alchemist placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Sometimes that woman was like a dog with a bone. She wouldn’t give it up for anything, even when something better came along. There were facts that Alran couldn’t ignore. Rivers and Daub would fall without Broken Tusk. That might have been only because Gronro would fall in line with Broken Tusk, but there it was. The Duke of River’s never wanted to be a leader in that way. His interest seemed to rest solely with spy craft.
The entire exchange reminded Theo of Luras. When the Half-Ogre was forced by his dying uncle to take a [Leatherworker’s Core] instead of the adventuring core he wanted. Forced into doing something he didn’t want to do, he’d become sullen. A grim conviction to honor the memory of a dead family member. Alran wasn’t so different.
“I should just resign,” Alise said.
“Yeah, we’ll put you on the battlements of Gronro,” Theo said. “No, this is my fault. When you blew up on Alran in the chat, I should have stepped in.”
“You’re the Archduke,” Aarok said, chuckling. “That’s your job.”
Theo tapped his foot. “Failure is part of learning. Broken Tuskers learn better from failure than anything else. I’m sorry you’re stressed out, Alise. I should have concluded that I could bully Alran earlier.”
“Understanding how to throw your weight around in a leadership role is difficult,” Luras said. “Consider that Alran didn’t take Alise seriously because she’s only a Lady. Not a Duchess.”
Theo cleared his throat. “Right. Now that we’ve got that sorted, I need to lay out some… Uh, bad news.”
The alchemist had only put this together in the last few moments. As he crafted the limb-regeneration potion, his mind lingered on Fenian. Things followed that man over the Bridge. The Elven construct was a good example. If he couldn’t send a warning beforehand, he would have sent it through the next best thing. Uz’Xulven delivered that warning, although she shrouded it in as many shadows as her realm contained.
“Fenian is going to arrive the day after tomorrow,” Theo said. “I suspect he’s going to arrive with trouble. He’ll be wounded with some horrors trailing behind.”
“Classic Spencer,” Luras said. “We’ll prepare for a defense.”
“Assume we’re looking at an army,” Theo said. “The good news is, I think I can sense when he’s close.”
Aarok gave Theo a discerning glare. “I assume this is related to when you disappeared on the road.”
“I have access to a godly realm now,” Theo said.
Gwyn let out an audible gasp. Theo didn’t think it was anything special, but that was far from the truth. No mortal laid claim to a physical realm. Not even Khahar had that ability in life. The Khahari leader’s realm was intangible, although it washed over most of the Khahari desert. From what the alchemist understood about it, he was the first mortal with a realm and the only one who could visit it.
“This is my surprised face,” Aarok said. His face didn’t change.
“Unexpected, overpowered Karatanshit abilities are normal,” Luras said.
There was more Theo wanted to tell them. He wanted to talk about how his realm overlapped Drogramath’s. How he shared tea with a god every day. That might be too much information for the meeting.
“Fine. That’s it for today, Gwyn and Alise. I’d like to have a private word with our Archduke,” Aarok said.
The pair of administrators seemed reluctant to leave. After a few tense moments, they went. Luras and Aarok gave Theo a piercing look.
“How far does this road go, Theo?” Luras asked.
The alchemist fell down into a now-vacant chair. He let out a sigh, then a shrug. “Convergences. Like two rivers coming together to form something larger. Fates mingling together to form something else. Something new.”
“Something brighter?” Aarok asked.
“I think so,” Theo said. “My command over Tero’gal is absolute. Well, it’s one third of the equation. Alex and Tresk command it, too.”
“The realm has physical effects, doesn’t it?” Luras asked.
“The power is already bleeding into Broken Tusk. Rivaling Drogramath’s,” Theo said. “Khahar is making a mess of the heavens. Fenian is up to something, pushing things here on the mortal plane. I can’t help but think we’re all part of something else.”
Aarok stood, nodding resolutely. “Nothing different, then. Business as usual in Broken Tusk.”
“Agreed,” Luras said.
Of all the people in town, Luras and Aarok were those Theo trusted the most. Outside of the Tara’hek, that is. Both were stalwart Half-Ogres. Honorable and wise beyond their years, the pair of them had a non-nonsense attitude toward everything.
“What’s your opinion on Alise and Gwyn?” Theo asked.
“Well, Gwyn is the level-headed one,” Aarok said. “I’d promote her to the leadership position over Alise, but…”
“But what?”
“Well, what’s the point?” Luras asked, finishing Aarok’s thoughts. “Alise needs to suffer to grow. Take her Lady title away. Throw her to the gutter. Where does that get you? A step back and a person short. A smart person, Theo. Don’t forget that.”
“People don’t grow overnight. As much as you want that to happen,” Aarok said. “Keep throwing her into the fire. She’ll learn.”
Nothing got Broken Tuskers down. Not when everything went to hell and the chips were down. They just kept fighting no matter what. They saw the best in people, even if they didn’t deserve it. Adaptive, and wise. That was the Broken Tusk way.
The conversation steered away from serious things. Theo sat and spoke with his friends about his realm. About how they could leverage those things for the betterment of their town. For their nation. The alchemist produced [What] from his inventory and placed it on Aarok’s table. Simple, uninteresting wheat that one would find on Earth.
“A plant from your home world?” Aarok asked, raising the bristled crop for inspection. “Seems kinda small.”
“It’s uncultivated,” Theo said with a shrug. “Might be nice to have some proper bread.”
“Still curious about the whole realm thing,” Luras said.
But no discoveries were found within Aarok’s cramped office that evening. Theo departed after a while, finding his way to the Marsh Wolf Tavern for some dinner. The power of the [Stamina Potion] flowed through his body, jolting his senses to wakefulness. Since gaining the Dreamwalk ability, the alchemist experienced something other than tiredness. On the rare occasion he stayed up beyond dusk, his body produced something closer to an urgency to return to that dream realm. With his senses buzzing, and the conversational hum of the tavern, he was brought to a higher state of wakefulness.
It didn’t help that Tresk had invited their entire adventuring party for dinner.
“I’m paying for it!” she shouted, shoving her body weight against a table. She was joining several together to allow the 10 adventurers she’d recruited to sit together.
Most of those seated at the table were familiar faces. Old adventurers that were there when he arrived in Broken Tusk. Gael joined with them, although he held no cores for combat. He simply wanted to sit with the other Wavecrest Elves that were present. The old Elf, looking as though he’d been drawn thin like iron under the hammer of an over-eager blacksmith, offered a sheepish smile.
“Your administrator is depressed,” he said.
“She’s working on herself,” Theo said, finding a seat with the head of House Wavecrest. “And quite young.”
“To be a fiery youth again,” Gael said with a sigh.
“I’m fiery! I got youth!” Tresk shouted.
Theo scooted his chair closer to Gael. “I have a representative from Rivers and Daub coming tomorrow. Their Duke, Alran Cherman. We need to make sure you’re in on that meeting. So you can get used to the way administrators work.”
Gael nodded. “I’m ready.”
“Good. He seems interested in changing his title from Duke to Spymaster,” Theo said, “My hope is that it goes well. The previous strategy of pushing him away only caused more problems. We need to bring him into the fold.”
“I’m sure your more experienced administrators would have more to say about it, Archduke,” Gael said, bowing his head.
“Yeah, I don’t need you to take care of the entire thing. I just want you there so you can learn,” Theo said, drumming his fingers on the table. “Nah, I’m just looking at every shadow. Jumpy. Something is going to happen on the 10th. Not sure how worried I should be.”
“As worried as you can manage,” Tresk cackled. “When was the last time Feintleaf brought anything fun through that portal.”
Chapter 14
Swamp Adventure
The swamp outside of Broken Tusk was bathed in a pale green light. Theo stood with the group of adventurers, looking up at the night watch that had posted themselves over the western gate. Telbaris shone above, providing that deceptive light, battled back by lanterns. It would be an arduous task to find a green flower bathed in green light, after all.
But the threshold between the town and the swamp was one that Theo rarely crossed, if ever. Standing before it was like standing at a curtain of dreams, filled with promise and danger. Tresk’s insistence to bring along so many adventurers made the task palatable, but as the alchemist shuffled his bare feet on the cobbles he felt a sense of fear. If he’d practiced his Toru’aun magic, he would have felt better about it. While arming himself with potions had brought comfort before, now he only felt unease. Uncertainty of his own abilities.
Those dark places in the swamp, places shrouded in shadow, were his partner’s home. She regarded him with a steely expression, then one of confusion. “Where’s your shoes?”
“Tero’gal,” Theo responded, looking down.
Tresk grumbled, withdrawing a pair of dexterity-enhancing boots and handing them over. Theo slipped them on, watching by candlelight as they resized themselves to fit him. “Waterproof and all that,” Tresk said. “Can’t say much about you going knee-deep in the damn mud, though.”
“Thanks,” Theo said.
“I’m watching you from the shadows, alright? You have a guard of 3 adventurers, and the rest are going to scout for the flower,” Tresk said. “Y’all hear that? Do I have to repeat myself?”
A thunderous chorus from the adventurers. “No, commander.”
Theo often forgot she was in charge of anything, let alone all the stealth-style adventurers in town. With no more ceremony, the Marshling vanished from the spot and the adventurers pushed forward. The alchemist spotted Zan’kir, assigned to guard duty. The Khahari man gave a smile, then a shy nod.
“Don’t fear. Khahar is with us.” Zan’kir flexed something, letting out a burst of golden-brown light. The power of the Khahari desert. Of Khahar himself.
The mud took half of Theo’s legs on the first step, and he grumbled. The [Cleansing Scrub] potion was the only thing that could save him from this place. A potion, or spell that kept him above the level of the mud would have been ideal. But it was not time to complain. Xol’sa’s life was worth moments of discomfort.
“Did he give you a core?” Theo asked, staying close to Zan’kir.
Even in the darkness, Theo could see the sad smile on the Khahari’s face. “Sal wasn’t happy. At first. But she’s come to understand what our lord’s intentions were.”
Resting his hand on the gosling in his bag, Theo noted the rapid rise and fall of her little chest. She was sleeping, which brought up questions about the Dreamwalk. The last time this happened, it appeared as an endless void of black. He hoped she wasn’t too scared. But she was a smart goose. She’d figure it out.
“His plans are far from over,” Theo said. “Did he designate you as his Champion?”
“That title goes to another,” Zan’kir said. “But he whispers of Khahak. Of our people, and their ascension to the high heavens. It’s inspiring.”
“Agreed,” Theo said, keeping his distance from a tangle of webs. Deep in a ball of silky web was a faintly glowing spider about the size of his hand. A [Marshlight Spider], monsterized but passive. They hid during the day, only coming out at night to hunt. “He was a good friend. Well, I guess that was a long time ago. And he’s not really dead, so there’s no sense talking like that.”
Curved blades whispered from Zan’kir’s hips, catching the green light of the moon with a deadly glint. The mud at his feet stirred away, but he relaxed. “The advanced team got it. Snapper in the mud. He’d have been better dead, compared to how he was. The torture of a mortal body.”
That was a torture Theo knew all too well. Without Tero’gal, his mind was often not his own. Only recently had he felt more like himself. Like the person he knew on Earth. While he didn’t view that as a good thing, he’d made progress since those times. Since that silver chain clung around his neck, dangling like the lost memory it was. Now he had a different love in this world. Something strange, but altogether deeper. The bond transcended explanation, plugging that gaping hole expertly.
Tresk appeared near the pair suddenly, her eyes darting around. “Shoulda brought a wizard. There are spirits around tonight.”
“Spirits?” Theo asked.
“Wisps, if you wanna call them that,” Tresk said. “Immune to physical damage. Need a good pew pew to kill them. You know, fire or something like that. They’re drawn to sadness, so don’t be sad.”
Without warning, she waddled away, waiting for her abilities to go off cooldown.
“The attacks from my [Khahar Sandslayer’s Core] are magical,” Zan’kir said with a chuckle. “Although, why would she bother asking? Keep it close, everyone. Eyes open. Damn wisps glow like the sun, so they shouldn’t be hard to miss.”
The idea of the journey was to push far into the swamp, a trivial task with Xol’sa’s portal. With the Elf out of action, they had to hike through the treacherous swamp. Attacks were common from snappers, wolves, goblins, and the wisps. But the tight formation of the adventurers, combined with those ranging forward, made the search simple enough. Areas near the town were picked clean by either loggers or adventurers. Raised sections of the swamp were the best areas to check, as they provided a break from the constant sloshing of boots.
Resting on a hill that rose only knee high above the churning mud of the swamp, the party took a break. Blue lights moved somewhere in the distance as Tresk gave orders to fan out from their position. Lanterns scrambled off into the night, but Theo’s eyes were locked on the sudden rise of rocks in the distance. It seemed only a pile of stone, if not for the swirling portal standing before it. The [Swamp Dungeon]. He’d never seen it so close before, only from the wizard’s tower that loomed in the distance.
“I hope Xol’sa is doing good,” Theo whispered, mostly to himself.
Zan’kir, who took it upon himself to guard Theo personally, let out a sigh nearby. “It would be a shame if our only wizard perished.”
“Hey, I’m a wizard now.”
“It would be a shame if our only good wizard were to perish.”
The playful comment put Theo in a much better mood. The jittery effects of the [Stamina Potion] were wearing off, giving way to a sense of calmness. “Did the adventurer’s get orders not to touch the flowers?” the alchemist asked. “It would be a shame if they touched the flowers. Sometimes reagents are quite reactive.”
“I’m sure our fearless commander gave the order,” Zan’kir said idly.
Theo withdrew two chairs from his inventory and set them down on the peat-strewn ground. He sat down before beckoning his guardian to do the same. Zan’kir refused. The alchemist shrugged, sending a mental command to his golems to converge on the swamp. His intuition claimed there was no danger, but it paid to be careful in the swamp. The lodestone network was distant, so the commands filtered through as sporadic things. There was no guarantee they went through.
“Hey, check this out,” Theo said, finding a random rock and warding it with [Lesser Reveal].
“Fancy wizard man,” Zan’kir said, stifling a laugh. “What does it do?”
“When you attack the rock, it reveals invisible stuff,” Theo said.
“That sounds useless.”
“Yeah. I need more of the trigger sigils. Imagine one that triggers when it senses an enemy,” Theo said.
“Now that sounds useful,” Zan’kir said. “What’s the duration?”
Theo and Zan’kir talked about the applications of warding magic. The Khahari had a few good ideas, and decided that the limiting factor was the triggers. If he only had one for attack, then they were almost all going to be useful. But if he could derive more properties from the primal essences, and shove those into wards, they’d be useful. As a seasoned adventurer, he didn’t take to the idea of binding them to [Pozwa Horn] idols.
“But everyone needs a hobby. Don’t they?”
Taking those words to heart, the alchemist withdrew one of Tresk’s knives from their shared inventory and produced a [Pozwa Horn] for carving. The dagger didn’t cut as clean as Benton’s godly knife, making the task much more difficult. But it was something to do under that green moon. Something to keep his mind focused as Zan’kir stood watch, vertical-slit pupils scanning the horizon in a constant vigil. What danger found them on that island was put down immediately, never given more than a step on the loam.
For all the danger around them, the swamp was a beautiful place. The wisps that danced over the thick mud cast blue to mingle with the moon’s green. There were few natural bugs in the air, which made little sense in Theo’s mind. Sounds of things fluttering overhead, among the tall boughs of the Ogre Cypress trees. Only the occasional sound of battle drew away from that sense of wonder.
“Alright,” Tresk said, appearing from nowhere. “Got some greenish flowers. Lookin’ like tulips or somethin.”
“Let’s go,” Theo said, standing and following the Marshling into the swamp.
They trudged closer to the [Swamp Dungeon] than Theo had ever been. A partial bridge of land spanned the space between the island and the dungeon. Not enough to keep out of the fetid mud, but enough to make the journey easily enough. Tresk led them closer to that dungeon, that towering pile of stones. It radiated a strange energy. It was as though the stones sought to draw the alchemist in. Inviting and dangerous at the same time, a contradiction of states that sent his heart beating faster.
Theo craned his neck, looking almost directly up. “I’ve never been inside a dungeon.”
“Count yourself lucky,” Zan’kir said. “The [Swamp Dungeon] is gross.”
Adventurers had found something near the rear of the dungeon. Tucked near the trunk of an Ogre Cypress was a vining, spiny plant that clung to the bark. Theo came closer to the plant, his [Drogramath Alchemy Core] whispering as he drew closer. It whispered of the power within those sparse flowers. They weren’t like other reagents in the area. They were different. Tresk reached a hand out to touch one and the alchemist shouted.
“Don’t!”
Tresk froze, looking back to cast him a confused look. Theo moved forward, holding a green flower in his hand. He sent his intent to inspect the item, letting out a steady breath as he did. It was a spirit plant.
[Soul Bloom]
[Alchemy Ingredient] [Spirit Flower]
Legendary
Impossibly delicate flower that blooms only once a moon phase. Improper handling will result in the destruction of this flower. Grows in places containing high spiritual energy.
[????] [????] [????]
“Fancy,” Tresk said, leaning close. “Why can’t we handle them?”
Theo busied himself picking as many of the rare blooms as he could find. There were only 10 of them on the trunk of the tree, and he doubted their ability to find more. The reason he could handle the spirit plants was his [Rare Material Handling] ability. Without that, a normal person couldn’t place a finger on the [Soul Blooms]. He explained it to his companions, who nodded along.
“Here’s another question for ya,” Tresk said, nodding as though she knew the rules as good as anyone. “How are you going to distill them? Low-unit runs are hard enough. Who knows if your still can even handle them?”
She was simply reading his mind, or his feelings. It would be impossible to run the spirit plants through the stills. He’d have to work them down to their primal essences and brew from there. The disadvantage to that technique was in volume, but he didn’t need a lot of the potion. Just enough to help Xol’sa, and anyone else who suffered a soul-slaying.
“I’ll work them manually,” Theo said, coveting the blooms in his hands. He placed them in his inventory, not willing to let them sit in the open air any longer.
The group continued their search of the swamp. As the hours swept past, they realized it was just the one plant within the swamp. At least within their limited search area. They trudged through the swamp, spotting lights flickering in the distance. Not distant enough to be people just outside the gates, but others wading through the swampy waters. A group of Elves stooped low, holding lanterns above their heads to inspect the murky water.
“Frogs,” one said as Theo approached. “Delicious frogs.”
The Elf was young, although the alchemist didn’t know what that meant for their race. The intensity with which he stared at the water meant these frogs were worth catching. But Theo had never seen frogs in the swamp. A hand blurred into the water, sinking deep into the mud. Wrenching his hand from the muck, a smile spread across the Elf’s face as he withdrew something that looked vaguely like a frog. Instead of the normal four legs, the thing had eight. And instead of legs, they were tentacles.
“Why is it always tentacles?” Theo asked.
Upon closer inspection, Theo realized the frog only shared one characteristic with the frogs he knew back home. Wet, bumpy skin and a general color palette of green-brown. Other than that, even the thing’s face was different.
“That’s an octopus,” Theo said.
“Octofrog,” Tresk said, with a satisfied nod. “Frogopus?”
“I’ve heard the Elves call them Harlags,” Zan’kir said.
“Yeah, Harlags,” Tresk said. “Used to eat them when I was a kid. Kinda a kid’s food, don’t you think?”
“They’re delicious,” the Elf said, rising to his full height. He stuffed the frog-thing in his bag and smiled. “Boil them quickly, then soak them in cold broth. Leave it for a day, then eat it up.”
“Well, enjoy your frogopus,” Theo said, waving at the strange Elf. “Also, don’t stray too far from the walls. Unless you want to die.”
“Death is a worthy price for the frogopus.”
Theo departed before someone could say frogopus again. There was some interesting linguistic opportunity there that he couldn’t quite grasp. Why would the Qavelli language have a word for frogs? As a language, Qavelli was a patois, or creole language. Derived from something that existed before the settlers came here, and bastardized beyond recognition, the Qavelli people had adopted something and made it their own. But frogs?
Pidgin languages aside, the night had been a success. Theo often found himself in possession of rare items. Sometimes he thought about those items’ value, but they often served a purpose rather than a monetary value. Even taking clippings from the spirit plant left him feeling as though he couldn’t force the flower to reproduce. Unlike the pristine seeds Khahar left him, those in the wild seemed not only uncultivated, but feral.
“Can a plant be feral?” Theo asked. No one answered and he decided it didn’t matter.
The point was, there was no point in worrying. The trip outside the walls had been exciting. Not only just because of the flowers, but because of the adventure. If the alchemist had a few more things in his toolbelt, he’d be happy to delve into dungeons and fight monsters. He wouldn’t fool himself into thinking he’d serve any role other than support, but seeing something new had sent that shock of adventure through his mind.
The group didn’t break immediately. They stood in the town’s square, watching lights behind windows and retelling their adventure. While Theo’s [Stamina Potion] wore down by the moment, he couldn’t stop himself from participating in the talk.
“Yeah, and then Theo left his chair in the swamp,” Zan’kir said, trying to keep his voice low. It was hard when he was laughing between statements. “Can you imagine? Someone is going to trudge their miserable butt to the dungeon, only to find a fine wooden chair waiting for a resting buttock.”
Tresk put on her best pompous voice. She bowed at the waist. “Honorable chair of the swamp. Venerable furniture of the bog. What is your wisdom?”
“What is your story, dear adventurer?” Theo asked. “Sit, and regale me.”
The group carried on for some time. Too loudly, perhaps. They were near enough to the butcher’s building that the door swung open. The Toora woman, Whisper, strode forth. Theo shrunk back, trying to get behind Tresk. The Marshling was more suited to take the angry blows of a woken-up bear-person. But Whisper produced links of dried wolf sausage from nowhere, thrust them into Zan’kir’s hands before turning around and vanishing back into her building.
The group of adventurers shared concerned looks with their Archduke, then burst out laughing again. They split up the dried sausage and chatted for a while as they ate it. No one else seemed to care, and Whisper didn’t burst forth with more dried meats. Theo and Tresk broke off from the group after a while. Alex was still asleep in the satchel, snoring with the occasional honk-like snore.
It was hard not to ignore sleep entirely and process his new flower. As Theo drew closer to his bed, exhaustion set in. With a few drops of [Cleansing Scrub] over his head, the alchemist kicked off his new boots and settled into his bed. His desire for comforts was growing by the day. Their bedroom was too small, with too few amenities. A nice palatial manor, perhaps on a raised bit of earth with a sturdy fence, was in order. Concerns like that washed away as he fell asleep, dropping into the dream realm.
Chapter 15
Respite
The Dreamwalk was filled with various representations of dried meats that night. They tasted of almost nothing. As Theo sat, munching on a length of dried something, he reflected on his progress. Grinding experience in the dream realm was good, but he couldn’t push the realm far enough to allow experimentation with the [Soul Bloom]. Instead, he was left to face the progress he’d made in the past few days.
The alchemist’s [Drogramath Alchemy Core] was at 21, matching his [Drogramath Herbalist Core] for once. His personal level had not budged from 20, and seemed reluctant to gain anything but small percentages of experience. The [Tara’hek Core] just soaked experience, hurtling to 25 with little effort. His [Governance Core] was similar, hitting 22 the previous day.
Of all the cores, the easiest to level should have been the [Toru’aun Mage’s Core]. Theo held the idea that should have hit 10 in days, but the core had been stubborn. It was only level 2, and the alchemist was the one to blame. Focusing on too many other things had spread him thin, but that was no surprise. Alran would arrive in the morning, and Fenian the day after that. He’d been treading water for days.
Theo warded another rock with [Lesser Reveal], tossing it into a pile containing hundreds of the stones. His mind wanted to be annoyed with the laborious process, but the results were clear. Without the restrictions of mana or stamina, he was free to cast as many spells as he wanted. The alchemist could explore whatever fancy came to his mind without fear that he’d blow himself up. Experience rushed in like a tide, filling his [Toru’aun Mage’s Core] to the brim.
Honk.
Alex swam, kicking her little goose feet in the harbor of Broken Tusk. Theo had lost his concentration, stemming the endless tide of ships visiting the harbor. With a thought, he brought more. His mind had wandered away from the Dreamwalk. It had landed firmly on the challenge of extracting the hidden property of the [Soul Bloom]. The gosling swam over, and the alchemist scratched at her itching feathers for a while.
“We need to wake up before Alran gets to town,” Theo said. “Find the property on the flower, and make a potion.”
Alex honked a response, but there was some meaning there. She seemed concerned about something, but he couldn’t understand what the problem was. Thinking for a moment, he noticed the issue with his plan.
“Because finding a property… Even brewing an essence doesn’t mean we’ve got the answer,” Theo said. “I destroy the first sample, giving me 9 attempts at the potion.”
Another honk with concern.
The last time Theo used primal essences, he’d applied them together with a [Suffuse Potion]. With a thought, he summoned a table and a scatter of equipment. He shook a vial of pink [Primal Healing]. The powder clumped near the bottom, only freed after vigorous shaking. Without experimentation, he had drawn few conclusions to the function of primal essences. They were used with the [Suffuse Potion] to bind properties together, creating an entirely new potion. But could they be used alone?
The first experiment was a failure. Mixing a unit of the powder with a unit of [Enchanted Water] yielded nothing but an explosion. The dried meats, summoned by Tresk, scattered and fell into the harbor. Theo stretched his willpower of the dream realm, feeling for cracks in his authority here. It pushed back against his intent to discover something new within the realm. He pushed harder, but the Dreamwalk was firm on this. There wasn’t enough information in the real world to simulate the action, leaving him to guess.
Theo spent his time forming theories and warding various objects. The Dreamwalk had no problem with his experimenting with the effects of wards on different materials, which seemed unfair. He’d never put them on anything but rocks. Why wouldn’t it push back against that? Thinking of the realm like a living thing with its own decision making wasn’t a pleasant thought. But it made sense.
“Checklist for tomorrow,” Theo said, sensing dawn nearby. “Cure Xol’sa. Figure out how to mix primals with water.”
“Get some more of that wolf meat,” Tresk said. She appeared from the shadow cast by the mound of rocks. The Marshling took a bite of a sausage. “I’m addicted.”
“It doesn’t taste like much,” Theo said. “Not in the Dreamwalk.”
That didn’t stop her from eating another entire sausage as they waited for dawn to come. In an instant, the realm faded, and they were waking up in their beds. Theo studied himself for any adverse effects before shrugging. He felt as rested as he ever had, even after staying up far past his bedtime. The motivation for leaving the physical world for his dream realm was one of practicality. If he spent more time there, he’d grind more experience. But the limiting nature of the Dreamwalk often caused problems.
The next problem came as a series of angry knocks from downstairs. Rushing downstairs to see what the problem was, the alchemist found Alise. She looked angry, but not at him.
“Alran is already here. Arrived before dawn,” she said.
Alex came waddling up behind Theo, honking back at Alise.
“No worries,” Theo said. He tapped his foot as his thoughts fell into place.
The alchemist checked his inventory, finding everything he needed to figure out Xol’sa’s problem. He had enough reagents sitting in there to test the function of primal essences as well. Tresk appeared behind him, her gaze drifting from side-to-side as though she expected an attack.
“Alise, find Aarok and bring him into our meeting room in the town hall. Just me, you, and Aarok. Tresk, could you buy breakfast for everyone from Xam’s and have it delivered to the room?”
“Sure,” Tresk said with a shrug.
“Right. I’m going to take care of some things. I’ll be there in five minutes,” Theo said, tucking Alex under his arm.
“You’re taking her?” Tresk groaned. “I wanted some time with D’Goose.”
“Fine,” Theo said, handing Alex over. “Five minutes.”
Without another word, Theo vanished from the spot. He held onto the [Tero’gal Dreampassage] ability in his mind. He passed over the placid oceans of shadow, then found his feet firmly on the ground of Tero’gal. Counting up, he only reached 12 before a mental request filled his mind. Cold washed over the realm for only a moment, then Benton stepped through his archway. It vanished in a moment, and the god seemed in good spirits.
“Why are you the only one to visit me?” Theo asked, making his way to his work table.
Benton looked only moderately upset about that statement. “I brought scones.”
“Yeah, alright. You’re my new best friend,” Theo said, removing two chairs from his inventory and setting them near his work table.
“I’ll make the tea,” Benton said, scampering off to the cottage.
The bear-god let out a low whistle when Theo withdrew the [Soul Bloom] from his inventory. He placed it on the table and felt the magic of the thing radiate through Tero’gal. The kettle bubbled nearby, filling the air with a faintly earthy smell. It was too dull to enjoy, and lacking whatever Xam used as sugar.
“It’s nice to have company while I’m here,” Theo said, gesturing to the empty, floating island.
“Yeah. At least you have me. Old, reliable Benton.”
“Don’t make me suspicious,” Theo said, sighing.
“Hah! Then a trade. There’s a new war kicking off in the heavens. Guess who started it? Another mortal,” Benton said. “Chased an Aspirant into the heavens. Been fighting his way through the Prime Realms for a while. We’re taking bets on how long he lasts.”
That would be Fenian. Theo let his thoughts swirl around the Elf. He’d chased someone into the realms, but that should have been impossible. Uz’Xulven was bending the rules, allowing him to shift between realities. But why? Who would Fenian hate enough to chase into such a dangerous situation? Questions without answers were better left by the wayside.
“Thank you,” Theo said, patting the god on the shoulder. “Pretty sure I know the Elf you’re talking about.”
“Really? Think he’ll make it? I could use some insider information.”
“He’ll make it. Without a doubt,” Theo said. “What is an Aspirant, though?”
“Someone who can ascend, but hasn’t,” Benton said.
“King Karasan,” Theo said. “Do you know who is backing the Aspirant?”
“Nope. No one does. That’s why it’s so exciting!”
Theo wouldn’t disagree with that. But he had to wonder how long their fight would go on for. Time moved strangely in the realms, but he didn’t know if that meant it moved that way for other mortals. It was, as always, too confusing to care about. Not when he had a job to do.
The alchemist followed the instructions he was given about the [Soul Bloom]. He ground it up, lit it on fire, caught the smoke, then applied his [Reagent Deconstruction] ability on the fumes. A system message flashed into his vision, and he cocked his head.
[Property Discovered]!
You’ve discovered the secret property of the [Soul Bloom] spirit plant! [Soul] property discovered.
“[Soul]... That’s not the property I was expecting,” Theo said, his brow knitting tightly.
“You know, I’ve been researching the way Drogramath does alchemy,” Benton said. The bear-god prepared tea for them, setting cups out and arranging scones. “And that seems like a weird property. Doesn’t look like it fits.”
“You’re right,” Theo said, tapping his fingers on the table. “So we’re looking at using a [Suffuse Potion] to bind the [Soul] property to another.”
“Well, let’s see what other properties you have.”
That wasn’t a short list. Theo listed all his available properties while nursing his tea and nibbling on his scone. It was delicious, tasting something like a berry-filled pastry. But the flavors were muted, as was the scent. [Healing], [Rejuvenation], [Regenerate], and [Cure Ailment] were prime candidates. Four properties with nine attempts seemed like a surefire way to get the job done, but the alchemist wasn’t sure.
When he attempted to extract the primal version of the [Soul Bloom], laying a sample out on the table, his intuition was proven right. The spirit plant was like nothing he’d worked with before. Instead of being a passive thing on the table, the flower fought back against his will. They clashed there in Tero’gal, and the flower came out on top. It burst into flames, sending sparks of blue mana flying in all directions. The bear-god yelped, pitching backwards on his chair and tumbling to the ground.
“8 attempts,” Theo said, letting out a steadying breath.
Theo thought better than to continue with the experiment without a break. Benton had some words of wisdom, and the pair chatted about clashing willpowers for a while. The [Soul Bloom] had some amount of will. It wasn’t a kind of sentience, as though it could make decisions, but there was something behind those green petals.
“Alright, so you’re familiar with clashes of will,” Benton said, rubbing his hands together.
“I am.”
“But you’re failing to realize what your realm is all about,” Benton said. “You’re still a baby, crying for your mommy, but this place is yours. You just need to claim it.”
Theo wandered, listening as the bear-god followed closely behind him. He found his way to the island’s edge and peered over. A twitch of his mental focus, and the image of clouds faded to show Tresk ordering food at Xam’s. That was easy enough to do. Even sending messages to his golems seemed without effort, but it was controlling them that was the hard part. Just having them rest in the back of his mind was a constant drain on his will. Thinking about it as a subconscious process that ran through his mind all day brought the concept into a clear light.
“This reminds me of controlling my constructs,” Theo said.
“Perfect!” Benton said. “What constructs? Artifice-links, or what?”
“Golems. I guess it’s more of soul-binding,” Theo said.
“Yeah, makes sense with the Tara’hek. The Toora shaman do something similar. You use a [Monster Core], right? Yeah, thought so. Have you tried to use a core that was higher than your level?”
“Nope.”
“Good. Cause let me explain what you’re doing. [Monster Cores] are proto-cores, right? If there’s something in your chest—like a web around your cores—that’s your soul. Take a flicker of that idea, just the smallest glimpse, and that’s a monster’s soul. Not a reflection, but the smallest shard of a soul… When you make a golem, you’re dominating the soul of a monster.”
“With my willpower,” Theo said. “Which is why it’s hard to keep so many of them on a leash.”
“Exactly. But guess what? Think of your realm as a big soul,” Benton said, shrugging. “Not actually the way it is, but close enough for our purposes. Take your willpower, tap into the power of the realm, and there ya go.”
Theo thought for a long moment. Long enough for his perception of time to fade, rendering the image below in real-time for only a blink. He gained control of the realm once again and nodded to himself. This made as much sense as anything. He moved, setting another [Soul Bloom] on the scorched table and concentrating.
When he reached out with [Reagent Deconstruction] this time, he didn’t just think about gaining the property of the flower. He thought about dominating it with his will. Forcing it to break down through sheer determination. Something flickered when he reached out to the realm, but it was distant. By the time he’d grasped his fingers around Tero’gal, the reagent exploded again.
“Maybe I was wrong,” Benton said, hiding near the wheat field.
“I was there,” Theo said, watching as an ember burned into his robe. “I could feel it. As you suggested. 7 more tries.”
But the alchemist wouldn’t take each attempt. This time, when he reached out to the realm around him, he found it easy to grasp. Tero’gal understood his intentions this time. He worked with him, forcing itself into a twin-domination of the flower. They pushed together against the green flower, forcing it to produce the primal essence he needed so desperately. A brief battle of wills and the flower went up in smoke. Benton shouted again, but the explosion didn’t follow. Only a pile of green powder remained on the table.
“You did it?” Benton asked.
“Don’t be surprised. It was your idea.”
The resulting primal essence was as expected, but Theo inspected it anyway.
[Primal Soul]
[Primal Essence]
Legendary
Created by: Belgar
Grade: Excellent Quality
Alignment:
Drogramath (Middling Bond)
Alignment Effects:
Reduces the chance of volatile reaction while bonding.
1 Unit (powder)
The primal representation of the [Soul] property.
Then came the difficult decision of which other property to bind it to first. Something within him tried to whisper advice, but he was deaf to it. The realm of Tero’gal interfered with Drogramath’s power, fizzling it out to nothingness. Pressing forward, the alchemist selected the first property to bind. He extracted [Primal Healing] from a [Spiny Swamp Thistle Root], pushing aside his desire to test primal extraction on refined essences. A quick combination of [Primal Healing] with [Primal Soul] yielded an explosion.
Benton wasn’t the fearless god Theo might have thought. Hidden behind the cottage this time, the bear-god peered out with fearful eyes. “Is that going to happen every time?”
Theo grunted his response. He was too focused on the reality of the situation. “5 more tries.”
The next primal to test was [Primal Rejuvenation]. Theo extracted the powdered essence from a [Spriggan Heart], finding the object to have no objections to his actions. He performed the same task on another [Soul Bloom], draining his will to extract the precious powder. He stumbled, falling back before powerful hands caught him. Benton offered a sheepish smile.
“Bit taxing, isn’t it?”
Theo steadied himself, trying not to sway on the spot. A deep breath, and he was ready to mix the primals. Benton ran for it. Swirling like a bottle maelstrom, the essences mixed then bound in the [Suffuse Potion]. But the mixture continued to swirl. The granuals inside chased each other ceaselessly, unable to bind completely. Another muted whisper from his core.
“What’s happening?” Theo asked, flicking his finger against the glass.
“You’re the expert,” Benton said.
Theo waited for a while, not letting time slip away from him. He watched the reaction within, and came to a simple conclusion. “It’s a slow reaction. This is going to take hours to complete.”
“Have you seen that before?”
“No.”
Trying the next two properties, [Cure Ailment] and [Regeneration] brought explosive results. Theo crossed those off his list. His intuition said the potion he brewed, the one still reacting on the table, wasn’t what he needed. He tapped his foot on the soft grass and chewed at his fingernails. Benton was saying something, perhaps words of encouragement, when an idea came to mind. Something lingering deep in his subconscious. Something that made him wonder if the memories were his own.
Without hesitation, the alchemist withdrew a vial of [Troll’s Blood] from his inventory. Benton feigned gagging, but Theo focused his mind on the first property of the substance. [Searing Regeneration]. Holding his hand over the vial of blood, the alchemist focused on his [Reagent Deconstruction] skill. A plume of fetid-smelling smoke left behind a vial of powder. It glowed like embers, shifting between pale gray and searing red.
“That’s nasty,” Benton said.
“Agreed. It’s my least favorite reagent,” Theo said, preparing another [Suffuse Potion]. He added a unit of [Primal Soul], [Primal Searing Regeneration], and watched.
The potion swirled together, much like the combination of [Primal Soul], and [Primal Rejuvenation]. The particulate danced, but refused to bind. Something in Theo’s mind told him this would take hours, if not days. He checked the real world, finding Tresk leaving Xam’s tavern. There were hours left in his trip, leaving him alone with the bear-god.
“Wanna help me practice my magic?” Theo asked.
“Oh! I like magic,” Benton said. “I’ve decided I don’t like alchemy, though.”
