“Why is it floating?” asks Jubilee, grabbing the boot out of the air. With an arc of their arm, they throw it across the room and it smacks against the wall, flopping down to the ground a second later.

“Ah!” Fresh yelps, trying to stop Jubilee, but failing to do so. “- Jubileeee~!” complains the girl.

A moment later, the boot, laying on the floor of the empty store, rises up an inch and hovers there, the top of it hanging limply to the side.

It is late in the evening. They have closed the store and finished restocking all of the plundered shelves.

“Huh…” says Jubilee, scratching their head. “Is this like that freaky lantern of yours?”

Fresh picks up the boot, dusting it off. “No, I think this is because of the crystal dust I put into it. I guess there’s some mountain-magic going on here?” she suggests, looking at the boot to see if it’s broken.

“Looks like fuckery to me,” says Jubilee, crossing their arms.

“Does it still float if you put it on?” asks Basil curiously. “How do you walk?”

Fresh shakes her head, slipping off her old boot and putting on the new one, standing up a second later. The boot presses flat down against the ground. “It can’t really hold any weight,” says Fresh, lifting her foot and setting it down again for emphasis.

“So it’s a waste of time, then?” sighs Jubilee. “Whatever. I guess they’ll look good on display at least.”

Fresh shrugs. “I mean… It’s hard to explain, but it feels like it’s pushing up against me, you know?” explains Fresh, gesturing with her arms. “It’s a really weird feeling,” says the girl, scratching her cheek. “I guess I feel a little lighter?”

“Maybe you left your brain in your other boot,” suggests Jubilee, pointing to the old boot next to her. Jubilee ignores Fresh’s scowl and goes on. “The poison sold well though, good-job, meat-head,” they finish, patting Shamrock on the side of his leg. Fresh scowls harder, as she watches her long awaited praise be given away right before her eyes. A moment later she relents however, her features softening. Shamrock did a good job too.

Fresh smiles. “Shamrock, I know you’re probably tired, but I need your help again one last time today,” says Fresh, lifting a finger. “Will you carry the cauldron for me, please?” she asks. “We need to make the water tonight so that I can start repairing things.”

“Can we watch?” asks Basil to Fresh’s and, apparently, also Jubilee’s surprise.

“Uh, sure. But be careful around the cauldron,” warns Fresh, heading towards the basement. “It’s dangerous.”

Jubilee waves them off. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not going to miss any sleep for that,” they say, starting to walk up the stairs.

“Okay! Good night, Jubilee!” calls Fresh up after them, wondering why her gait feels so weird. Looking down, she realizes that she still has the one, sort of, floating boot on.

A minute later, Shamrock carries the empty cauldron upstairs onto the balcony, as Fresh marches on happily behind him. Basil waits somewhat nervously until they, and the heavy cauldron, are both clear from the staircase, before she heads up after them.

“So… now what?” asks Basil, as Fresh quickly and with a hasty yank, grabs her grimoire out of her inventory window, closing the window as fast as possible as soon as her hand is back out. She takes a few steps to the side, so that she can double-check the instructions without the others seeing.

Cauldron of Rebirth

A magical cauldron that is able to revive the dead.

1) Place the body of the departed into a cauldron filled with moonwater from a full moon, during the next moonless night

2) Add the second branch of a tree

3) Channel your energy to activate the cauldron

Once activated, the cauldron will continue to work until emptied or as long as the light of the sun doesn’t reach the water.

“Ah, it’s pretty easy,” says Fresh, relieved. “I just need some…” she blinks, turning her head to look at the cauldron and then back at her book. Sighing, she slams it shut with one hand. “Shamroooock~?” pleads Fresh, having something new to ask of him. She clasps her hands together.

Shamrock, having already seen where this is going, wordlessly lifts up the cauldron and heads back downstairs without a single complaint. They needed it to be full of water, after all. Fresh turns her head, looking over at Basil. “Baaasil~?” she starts, having a second wish.

“Yes?”

“Can you go get me the second branch from a tree, please?” asks Fresh.

“The second branch? That’s… oddly specific.”

“Please?”

Basil sighs and waves her off with a smile, heading down after Shamrock. “Fine, fine. I can’t say no to you.”

“Thank you!” calls Fresh down the stairs. Once the two of them are gone, she looks back into her book, flipping back to the page with the cauldron. Tilting it to the side, she watches as the wet ink on the second page runs down along the paper. Didn’t there used to be something here? Some words or some warnings or something? They’re gone now. As if the ink had melted, as if it had pulled itself entirely free from the damp paper and now pearls on the exterior of the page.

She sighs, slamming the damp book shut again. This is too spooky for her to deal with right now, after the whole ghost incident.

Which reminds Fresh to ask Basil to make a ghost-warding-seal for the house, which the priestess agrees to do after watching her make the cauldron.

“Okay!” nods Fresh after the two of them have returned. “But it’s really not that exciting,” says the girl, as Shamrock sets the three-quarters full cauldron down onto the balcony. “Thank you, Shamrock!” she says, walking past him. “Strong!” she says, flexing one of her arms and grabbing his with the other hand. He says nothing, simply nodding to her and then standing back next to Basil, both of them curiously watching her from a safe distance.

Fresh shrugs and turns to the cauldron. Taking a look around to make sure that nobody else is watching. She holds her hands above the surface of the water that is shimmering in the moonless night. The surface of it is still mildly disturbed and ripples back and forth, distorting the reflections of the heavenly auras shining down from above, from the many bright, warmly colored stars in the sky.

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, holding her hands above the water and focuses with all the calmness that her mind, tired after this long day, can muster.

Fresh uses: [Cauldron of Rebirth]

“Ta-da!” says Fresh, turning around and opening her eyes, her arms held out to the side, as she proudly and somewhat ironically, presents the cauldron. Basil and Shamrock both don’t say anything. She sighs and lowers her arms, sparing a second to wave her fingers at them. “Told you.”

Basil breaks the silence. “So? How does it work?” asks the priestess, rubbing the back of her head.

Fresh shrugs. “I just put items and stuff in here, use the spell and it makes them good as new!”

“Huh…” says Basil, leaning forward. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” says Fresh as Shamrock approaches and carefully picks up the cauldron, just as easily full as when it was empty. He makes his way down the stairs. Fresh almost wishes he’d talk a little more, just so she doesn’t feel bad because she wonders if she’s asking too much of him. “But don’t touch the water, okay? It’s super bad!” warns Fresh a moment later and Basil nods.

After Shamrock returns, Basil shows them how to make a ghost-warding sigil. It’s fairly simple, just a few different symbols on a sheet of paper together with a single spell of hers does the trick. Apparently, once the signs were in place, any healing spell at all would add the proper energy to it. Fresh gets an idea, asking what would happen if she used one of her witch spells to charge the sigil. Though that suggestion is met with horror, as Basil quickly snatches the paper out of her hands and reprimands her with a wagging of her finger.

Fresh can’t help but laugh an uneasy laugh, as she feels that she is being scolded like a child who was caught playing with something hot. As they get up, Fresh scoots her chair back and stands up, rubbing her tired eyes, more than ready to go to bed.

Her lower back pops.

The girl’s face goes pale, as she catches herself on the edge of the table, slouching over forward with a sharp gasp.

“Are you okay?” asks Basil, looking over from in front of her bed.

“Noooo~” cries Fresh, straightening herself back upright, trying to fight against the pain shooting up through her body. “I always get this stupid back pain,” sighs the girl. “Baaaaasil~? Can you heal me?” she pleads, sure that she is about to cry.

Basil shakes her head. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that. I can only restore health-points, but bodily damage like that…” she fidgets with her sleeve. “There isn’t much I can do. You’d need a druid for that, but they’re more towards the south-east.”

Fresh lets out a disappointed sigh and picking up her chair, she sets it forward and starts scooting herself over to her bed, holding herself upright with it.

Two large, metal hands grab her sides and Fresh has an odd feeling of déjà vu, as she feels Shamrock hoist her into the air. She winces, it hurts a lot as her feet leave the ground. Apparently the giant is going to carry her to bed? How swee-

“IAgHghg- !” shouts the girl, as his hands, locked under her arms, lift her up high into the air and shake her around like a rag-doll.

“What are you doing?!” asks Basil from the side, clutching her hair in horror.

A crack runs up her body. A burst of intense, burning pain filling her blood for a brief flash of a moment in which she is sure that her mind will leave the conscious plane. As her body hangs there limply in his grasp, her mismatched boots dangling in the air, one foot lifts up slightly higher than the other as the enchanted boot that she is still wearing pulls on it.

“Adjusting,” is all that Shamrock says, as he carries Fresh over to her bed and then haphazardly tosses her down into it without a care in the world. Fresh stares through tearful eyes up at the man, as he lifts his hand, staring at it for a moment as he tries to adjust his own fingers before managing to form the ‘thumbs-up’ gesture, as if he didn’t know how to make it.

Taking a deep breath, she lifts her shaking hand and gives him a thumbs-up in return, which he acknowledges with a single nod as always, before walking away.

“I’m sure it will be better by tomorrow,” consoles Basil, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

Fresh’s arm flops down to her side, as her body sinks into the mattress that, like all mattresses here, is far too soft for her liking.

As she feels the weight of the priestess getting up off of her bed, Fresh’s eyes shoot open as she grabs a hold of her sleeve. “Basil!” winces Fresh. “I have a really great idea!” she says.