[Essence Path]

[Skills: Essence Sight]

[Warrior Path]

[Skills: Savagery]

[Alchemist Level 8]

[Skills: Infusion, Candle, Kinetic Infusion, Personalized Alchemy, Lesser Vibrancy, Knife Proficiency: I]

[Fighter Level 2]

[Skills: Lesser Agility]

It seemed like Lisa couldn’t get them out of the house quick enough. Or rather, back inside the sitting room so they could get out of the house. She kept on glancing back to make sure they were following properly. They still wanted to head into the Tower today, and it seemed like she didn't want to waste daylight.

Micah was just a little too distracted by his Proof Of paper to react to her impatience. He couldn’t decide if he should be disappointed in himself or not yet. He remembered all the Skills on the form perfectly, of course, so there was little need for it. But there was something indescribable about having them organized and gathered by a professional on a piece of paper. They felt validated, more tangible.

His report card wasn’t good enough for a scholarship, let alone skipping grades on academic merit alone. He hadn’t advanced either of his Paths yet—and Skills in those were considered informal badges of knowledge. The only thing he had going for him was that he was about three levels above average for how long he’d had his Classes at his age, and four to ten levels above average for everyone else.

But of course, he couldn't afford to judge himself by the average. And that number was going to diminish with time. When he was twenty, he would only be expected to be a level or two above the everyone else despite having gotten the Class years earlier. That was just the way things were. And having two Classes complicated things as he had to divide his attention. Not that he really understood much of that; he was no [Registrar].

At least, everyone around him was pretty supportive. Even Ms. Reed, which was kind of unsettling, even though Micah couldn’t put his finger on why.

Her words stuck with him. He still had [Candle].

… Micah tried casting it again, just once when the others had headed into the sitting room ahead of him and he waited a moment by the door. Candle, he whispered in his mind, the thought shaking as if it were a voice. His fingertip remained bare. He actually sighed in relief then. Maybe someday it work again, but that didn’t have to be today, right?

In the sitting room, Ryan took the Proof Of paper from him and put it in his journal for safekeeping until they could switch it to his envelope back home.

Lisa started sorting out their stuff for them because apparently, they weren’t doing it quickly enough for her tastes. Micah had actually wanted to restock his dwindling healing supplies first and ask her about uses of his dead Sapling, but she shot him down on both accounts.

“You can’t make anything with just one dead Sapling, Apples. And you don’t need three slightly different variations of the same healing effect for all your teammates every time you go into the Tower. Now mush.”

So he reluctantly got changed while Lisa glared at him, then let her herd him out of the front door. The moment they stepped through the gate, she finally seemed to relax a little. As they walked to the Guild, Micah settled for asking her about what that weird glow was that he’d seen around Ryan.

“You probably saw an aura.”

“I don’t have an aura Skill,” Ryan told her.

“Do you need [Lesser Strength] to move your arms? No. Aura is a broad term that describes any type of magical field or radiation. Even essences are a type of aura, if you will, since they are an echo of— Oh. Hm. Apples, have you figured out the third ingredient yet? The explanation involves the third ingredient.”

“Don’t!” Micah shouted. Figuring out mana for himself was his best and only current bet at furthering his Path.

“Yeah, yeah,” she told him. “I get it. But you might want to consider reading some books on the subject. You really need to further your [Essence Path] soon.”

“... I know that,” Micah mumbled.

“We can check out a bookstore tomorrow,” Ryan told him. “Maybe buy a beginner’s mage manual. Those come cheap.”

“They do?”

Ryan gave him an odd look.

“There’s no official Mage Guild,” Lisa explained. “The few licenses that do exist for mages are managed by the city directly, and everything else is covered by laws you’re expected to know. So there’s no one around to limit basic knowledge.”

Micah kind of wished alchemy was more like that, but he could see why it wouldn’t be so easy. Alchemy was targeted at consumers with high demands. And it was much more complicated; so much could go wrong. Magic was just like any other personal Skill, like singing or fighting. Higher educations for those existed, but if you wanted to learn for yourself nobody was going to stop you.

This time they stepped into the Tower, they did so without a destination in mind. Unfortunately for them, that meant the Tower spat them out in the Sewers. Micah groaned. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the Sewers, he had just been hoping for something else, like the Tunnels or Fields. At least, he could always use more flesh crystals.

Either way, they hurried to find an exit, only killing the rats that gave them trouble and relying on Lisa's knowledge and Ryan’s senses to find a path. Micah did collect a bundle of Sewer moss and a bottle of its water because he didn’t have any, but the moment they found a narrow crack in the wall leading up into another floor, they didn’t even discuss it and simply squeezed in to get out of there.

The crack widened into an incline. The incline led to a circular tunnel that had its outlines revealed by silver specks glittering faintly in the rough earth. In the distance, white spiderwebs glowed instead. Bright enough to be easily seen, but not so much that they gave off any light.

“Tunnel Spiders,” Lisa hissed under her breath and she told Sam, “Payback time.”

Micah had no idea what she was talking about, but she was smiling, so he was happy enough.

The Tunnel Spiders ended up being slower than the Cataracts. And Micah knew they weren’t poisonous. But he hadn’t known just how bulbous their back segments would be and jagged their legs. The beasts hid in cracks in walls or ceiling, and behind thick layers of web. Giant freaking spider, was all he could think of again when the first of them came crawling down its essence woven web towards them. Its legs tapped the web and the web shifted and tremored beneath the weight. The sight made his skin crawl.

And those webs filled every other tunnel, each one a possible source of ambush, each one an obstacle in their path. Hacking them down made them dissolve … eventually. Before they did, their fragments would drift through the air and stick to whatever touched them. Micah would end up sputtering and flailing as he tried to get them out of his face or mouth.

The whole time he was on the floor, he felt like something invisible was hovering right in front of his face, something else was creeping up on him, and lots of little somethings were crawling around underneath his armor. It was like he was walking down an old set of stairs leading down to an even older basement, but the steps also hid cat-sized spiders beneath them and never stopped.

Just once, they encountered real webs. And after promising to clean it up later, Micah used Ryan’s scabbard to spin those into a bundle that he scraped that into a jar. Sadly, they didn’t encounter the spider that had made it. Maybe someone else had killed it already?

By the time they found an exit, Micah had collected eight small crystals filled with the essence of their webs and distracted himself with tapping his fingers against one. Touching it felt slightly sticky, but when he moved his fingers away, they came off easily. It was just the essence attempting to do something it couldn’t. The rest of the sensation came from it messing with his mind.

Lisa called it “slightly sticky silk” essence, because apparently, all spiders had not just one, but half a dozen different types of silks they used to make their webs. And this one was used for initially capturing prey. That just made Micah’s skin crawl even more and he was happy to step out of a cave into the Fields.

“See that?” Lisa asked as they crouched in front of a copse of trees. A Tunnel Spider had been hiding in one of its bushes. Thankfully, Sam had weeded it out before they got there. Seeing it run across the grass like a water walker in broad daylight was a sobering sight to say the least.

Now, Ryan kept watch behind them as they considered a low green plant with spiky leaves that grew a few yellow berries. The fruits and the immediate green leaves around them looked as big and see-through as grapes, and as clean and colorful as candy. They looked artificial … and tasty. Micah had no idea what the plant was, but it was clearly a Tower herb and thus, valuable. Maybe he could use it as an ingredient?

“Tower Nettle,” Lisa told him.

Micah knit his brows together. “I’m pretty sure nettle doesn’t grow berries like that.” And off the top of his head, he couldn’t remember any of his recipes mentioning the plant either. That wasn’t a good sign.

“It doesn’t. But Tower Nettle does. Its fruit is about eight parts ten made of its own essence, in the truest sense of the word. The rest is almost entirely water. It barely has any pattern at all. The little bit it does have comes from the flesh of the fruit. They’re basically crystals in their own right.”

“Truest sense of the word?” Micah noted.

“Like flesh essence.”

“Oh.” So enough of those berries together could try to grow the plant anew again. “Is it valuable?”

“Its berries and leaves help with mental clarity and small aches when eaten. They can be processed into lots of different foodstuffs for that effect, like teas, jams, sauces, and so on. The same holds true for alchemy. That being said, I’m totally overselling them. They’re just one herb in the Spring. And nettle grows like a weed when left unattended. I’m surprised there’s only one here.”

She looked around as if she should have been able to spot others. There were none, sadly. Just some wrist-high grasses and weeds Micah recognized but knew had no alchemical value.

Micah carefully dug out the entire plant, roots and dirt, and promptly didn’t know where to put it.

“We should have brought a basket,” Ryan commented.

Micah agreed. There was a lot of equipment they were still lacking, and things like baskets or containers were easy to buy. Next time, he would know better. For now, he carried the plant around in his hand.

As they moved on, they fought Earth Boars in an uphill valley that looked out over rolling green fields. Far off to the distance, Micah thought he could see tiny mounds below, and people fighting ant-sized dots that might have been boars.

But then they crossed the crest and it blocked his sight. As they descended the other side, they came across more and more stretches of mud and weeds that looked like pond grasses. They followed those over a small bump and found a sinkhole at the base of the hill far below. It had broken into an underground structure and water spilled out from there, creating a large pond.

“An entrance into the Open Sewers,” Ryan told him.

Toads the size of small dogs gathered around its waters. And even two Sewer Rats larger than any Micah had ever seen were on its other side, as if they had both gathered there to drink at a watering hole. But of course, monsters didn’t need to drink. And these came from a floor submerged in water anyway. Unless ... did they maybe need the specific essence of this place?

Ryan made Micah list everything he knew about the large toads—Archertoads, as the guide called them—before they approached, so he wouldn’t underestimate the enemy again. The only important things to know, in Micah’s opinion, were that they had sharp teeth and spat sticky globs of spit at their enemies. Oh, and if a large enough body of water was nearby, they would try to drag people underwater and drown them … like the large pond they were looking at right now.

With that in mind, they tied and left their packs behind and approached the enemies by spreading out along the bank. Lisa and Sam took the right, towards the rats, which Sam would have an easier time fighting. Micah hid behind Ryan and his shield as they walked left in a low crouch.

The moment the three toads saw them, they started spitting at them by extending their necks in a motion unlike any frog Micah had ever seen, and Ryan blocked most of the globs with his shield.

They pressed forward carefully, but quickly. As soon as they got within a few yards of the beast, the toads … just started to hop away. Micah actually hadn’t expected them to keep up the distance advantage. And what was worse was that they fanned out in the process and started attacking them from the sides.

A ball of spit clipped Micah’s glove and stuck his dagger to his hand the way he held it. He could barely move his outermost fingers or unclench his fist. It wasn’t a bad place to be hit, but there were worse ones. And if they didn’t catch up quickly, he would experience those first-hand.

Micah signaled Ryan with a tap on the back and a few words, then broke into a sprint after the right-most secluded Archertoad, throwing up mud with each step.

There was something wrong with seeing thick, triangular teeth poking out of an oversized toad’s mouth, and something worse about seeing said toad extend its head like a snake to try and bite him as it lept. But none of that mattered as Micah slid through the mud past it and dragged a slash into its side. He had almost forgotten how easy it was to fight monsters that weren’t covered in wood or stone, no matter how tough their skin was.

The monster was hit. Its wound bled light. And it limped even as it tried to turn around over that side to face him. Micah finished it off with another slash and two more stabs to its back. As far as he knew, touching them was okay. And he was wearing gloves. So he simply ket it in his place with one hand while he attacked it. It was strong, he could tell, but too wounded to resist. It burst into smoke.

Then Micah went to help Ryan who was being pelted from two directions.

Thankfully, the Archertoad’s spit dissolved when they died, because it did not dissolve in water. And Ryan was coated in the stuff. When they went to get their things, Micah picked out his jar of healing salve and put it in his pocket as well. There was lots of oil in that. Maybe it would help?

Lisa checked the pond for more enemies by throwing rocks and clumps of dirt in it, and Sam collected the monsters’ crystals for them. Unfortunately, they had no way of checking the pond for treasure, and the crystals were made of the same essence as the toads’ spit. Micah didn’t know what he could use those in, so he would rather hunt Earth Boars, but Lisa told them she had worked up an appetite for the toads' legs—apparently, some considered them delicacies—so they trudged into the crumbling, moss-overgrown, and sunlit tunnels of the Open Sewers to hunt a fully-made one for her.

Cracks in the walls led directly to the Fields, and the grates in the ceilings were long and thin, overgrown with grass. Below them, the ground was rougher as it was made up of rubble, and covered in slippery mud and moss. The stones that poked out here and there were blanketed by Sewer Moss, but barely glowed at all.

Thankfully, they only stayed until they found a single fully-made Archertoad, because getting its spit off was a nightmare until Micah managed to get his jar open with a glued-shut fist and rub some healing salve on it. It didn’t help as much as he had hoped, but it was better than nothing. He used up the rest of his supply, and scraped and washed off the glue in the water of the Sewers, then helped the others.

They headed for the Fields afterward, towards the mounds Micah had spotted, and fought Earth Boars along the way. They didn’t find any fully-made, but they did find one monster part—a tusk that had grown around a crystal sticking out of its base. Micah tried wiggling it a little, but it was really in there. Ryan said the same when he tried. They didn’t offer it to Lisa. She would surely break it. Micah wondered if it could be used as a primitive weapon or something similar.

“Might be valuable to an [Enchanter],” Lisa told them.

By the time they found a portal leading out again, it was late and they shambled along the evening crowd to Lisa’s, to get their things. They were bogged down as much by grime, sweat, and dirt as they were by their loot, and had to hurry to get home by time.

Even Lisa, apparently.

“You’re late,” Mave told her when he opened the door. This time, he pulled it wide open and leaned against it as he stood aside. His face looked tired and his posture was off. He looked almost as haggard as they did.

Long day at work? Micah wondered. Guessing by how disorganized the Chandler residence was, taking care of it must have been equally chaotic. Especially since Mave seemed to be on his own. And Micah had only really seen a fourth of the place.

“You know I can’t leave until you’re back,” Mave said.

“I’m sorry,” Lisa said. “Are they both still here?”

Mave shook his head. “Allison went home.”

“Home? Home-home?”

“No. To the Tors. Garen’s in the study. He’s waiting to speak with you.”

She sighed and said, “Give me ten minutes.”

Mave grunted. “Shoes off.”

“Doesn’t Allison live here?” Micah asked as they wiggled their dirt-crusted shoes off. He would have to clean them up later when he got home. But Allison was around so often and even had an office here, Micah had just assumed she did. Maybe she just worked here?

“They’re climbers, Apples,” Lisa told him. “They don’t live anywhere. If Garen felt like it, he’d pack up and leave tomorrow on a whim. To go to another Tower or another country. Allison’s the same.”

That kind of freedom seemed awesome to Micah, but her words sounded frustrated. He didn’t know if that was because she was tired or worried that Garen would bail on her, and still, Micah wondered if Garen would even do such a thing when he wandered into the sitting room and stepped on something sharp.

Grimacing, Micah hopped back and held his foot up, trying not to curse. The feeling wasn’t nearly as bad as jumping onto an open blade, though. He found a shard of glass stuck in his sole and looked around, searching for where it might have come from. But everything was intact. So he pulled it out and asked, “Uhm, Lisa?” When she looked, he held it up for her to see. “Trashcan?”

“Is that glass?” Ryan asked him.

“Yeah. I, uhm, found it.”

Ryan’s eyes shot down to where Micah’s foot was hovering over the ground, then up again. “Did you step on it?”

Micah rolled his eyes a little.

“Let me see.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Let me see.”

A day of fighting giant spiders and murder-bite-toads that wanted to drown them in glue, and Micah had made it through with scrapes and bruises. But the moment he almost got home, he stepped on a piece of glass and got Ryan worried after all. Great job, he told himself.

Reluctantly, he took off his sock and awkwardly leaned against the back of the couch while Ryan inspected the wound.

Lisa, thankfully, took the shard from him. She frowned at its tip for a moment before she shouted for Mave, who had barely left the room, then held it up with the demand, “What’s this?”

Micah cringed at her tone.

“Oh.” Mave stood up straight and went to take it. “I must have missed it earlier. I, uh, dropped a glass.” He saw the blood on the shard and Micah’s foot and assured Lisa, “Just glass.”

Lisa seemed irrationally angry, like she might flick the shard into the man’s face at any moment. But he took it from her before she could.

Micah got that they were tired and had a few pounds of dirt sticking to leftover glue on them. And leaving glass lying around wasn’t nice. But he felt kind of bad for the man. It had been an honest accident. Micah should have just kept quiet and thrown the shard away on his own. Well, next time—

Mave bowed to him all the sudden and said, “I apologize for the oversight and am deeply sorry. I promise you, it will not happen again. Please, excuse me while I get a healing potion for your wound.”

Micah couldn’t help but stare. He felt heat creeping up his cheeks as he called, “No! No need, I have—”

He’d already left.

“...healing potions.”

Ryan let go and looked around the sitting room, frowning at the furniture. Probably looking for more glass.

Micah sorted out his things where he stood.

Despite the long day, they had made a decent haul. They had over thirty crystals, a magic plant, a fully-formed Archertoad, a jar of Tunnel Spider webs, and an Earth Boar’s tusk.

Lisa wanted the toad so she could eat it, but promised to salvage any parts she could for Micah. They “appraised”—that is to say, guessed—the value of everything else and handed her a third of it in coins as her proper share. Micah wouldn’t have her settling for scraps with the excuse that she could “make use of them” again.

Everything else they stuffed into Ryan and his backpacks. As Micah tried to fit his armor inside without mushing anything important, Lisa noticed and asked if he wasn’t going to store his stuff in the shed again.

“Huh? Oh. Uhm, no. Ryan offered to keep it as his place," Micah said. "I mean, I spend a lot of time there so it’s more convenient, you know? But thanks for allowing me to keep it here so long. You’re a life-saver. Really.”

She smiled a little and said, “You’re welcome.”

A moment later, Mave came back with a bottle of glowing red liquid and Lisa snatched it out of his hand, inspected the liquid, and poured a little on Micah’s wound. It immediately healed with a warm, fuzzy feeling that was much better than the one he had bought. Which also meant it was more expensive.

Micah apologized for the waste.

“Don’t. It was our fault,” Lisa told him.

Ryan seemed to agree with her.

Micah didn’t. He could have healed it with Hale’s regeneration over a few days with no problems. No need to waste anything middle-grade. But he dropped the topic. They clearly valued propriety and it was too late anyway. Next time, Micah would know better.

Over the next few days, Micah settled into a rough rhythm. He would hang out at Ryan’s place with him and his dad in the mornings, and study or train a little, then bring him to hang out at the bathhouse while he worked. In the afternoons, he would either study or train some more—in case Ryan had lessons with Gardener—or they would head into the Tower, stopping by Lisa’s to check if she was there and wanted to come along.

On Wednesday, she wasn’t. And it delayed their habit for a single day. Instead of going into the Tower without her, they doubled back to sell their loot and buy some things they needed.

Well, Micah bought stuff he needed. Ryan disappeared on and off again because he had other errands to run.

First, Ryan led him to a busy bookstore in Nistar where Micah browsed its magic section, looking for clues. The books really weren’t as expensive as he had thought, being priced between a copper and silver coin, but if there was a clue to mana in them, maybe Micah could spot it by just looking?

A lot of the books explained the concepts of spells and mana, different schools of magic, spell types, Classes, Skills, and offered some example spellscripts. Some of them talked about mana regeneration exercises and mana in the world around people. None of them talked about the composition of mana. The closest thing Micah could find was specialization; that people who primarily used fire spells, for example, would eventually find it easier to cast. They also, of course, got Skills from their Class that focused on fire, or could even get special mage Classes, like [Pyromancer]. Although that was also the Class of the people who made fireworks. Would a fireworks [Pyromancer] with a [Mage Path] have a short-cut to becoming a fire mage? It was intriguing, but none of that helped Micah with his question.

He had to learn the basics and Skill lists for the entrance exam anyway. Everything else only loosely made sense to him. So when there was a break in the rush at the counter—and the [Clerk] gave him the “are you going to buy something or are you going to steal something” glance—Micah went up and place his hands on the counter while he waited for man’s attention. Then he asked if he had any books discussing mana composition.

“I’m not sure. I’m not a [Mage] myself, but it sounds like you’ll want fourth or fifth-year textbooks on magic theory,” he told him, “or even academic ones. You have to order those or buy them at guilds or schools. Do you have a title in mind? I can order it for you and have it delivered here.”

“No, uhm, thank you. I don’t have a title. But isn’t there anything else?” Micah asked him. “Do you have any books explaining how to get [Mana Sight] or other Skills like that?”

“We do, but those are written with having a Path in mind. Do you have a mage Path already?”

Micah shook his head. “No.”

“Are you looking to get one? We have books that discuss the basic theory. Reading those often helps with getting a Path, especially if you’re interested and start early.”

Micah considered it. It would take up more of his time and attention, but it might be worth it. His [Essence Path] struck him as a mage Path already. Lisa cast a lot of her spells using essences and he should be able to do the same if he figured out mana. So there was overlap there. Maybe the [Mage Path] could give him a Skill to help out, as a sort of short-cut?

“Maybe?” he asked.

“Otherwise, I could sell you some magazines with articles that talk about magical theory,” the man said, walking to a stand. “But I would recommend forming a basic understanding first to get the Path, then buy a Skill guide for [Mages].”

He led Micah down an aisle to the shelf he’d been at earlier and showed him a row with some beginner books. “These might help with getting the Path. I can recommend this one in particular.” He pulled one out. The cover read First Steps on the Path to Magic: A Beginner’s Guide. “A lot of classroom [Teachers] use it in prep classes, and my nephew read it before he became a [Mage].”

Micah took it, though he had skimmed it already earlier, and leafed through the pages again. Among other things, it talked about meditating on Spells you might have gotten from Classes or using items that needed mana to get a better feel for it, like mana rings or patterned crystals. That would both help with getting a mage Path and something like a [Mana Sense] Skill.

That last bit struck him as a good idea. Micah wondered if he could ask Lisa to borrow one of her rings. She had like four of them. Or was it three? How many mana rings did [Mages] usually wear?

Maybe he could even ask if he could try out summoning Sam one time? Maybe then it would listen to him again ...

The price was a silver penny, but that was already much less than what Micah had paid for his recipe books at the Guild. He closed it and smiled at the [Clerk] to show he would buy it.

“Oh, and do you have any alchemy books?” he added.

The clerk directed him to a shelf that only had two rows for alchemy. Some of the books discussed theory and were meant for getting the Path in the first place. Others listed common, everyday alchemical items that you could buy for your household or other things, as well as how to use them. But there were no books on how to make them.

Still, they gave Micah some ideas how he could use his Archertoad and Tunnel Spider crystals. He didn’t take any of those books with him, but he did buy the magic one the clerk had suggested with a thanks, then waited in front of the shop until Ryan came to pick him up empty-handed.

“Didn’t you have errands to run?” Micah asked him.

“I did,” he said and lead the way. “I was just checking on some things. I didn’t buy anything.”

“Like what?”

“I need a new pack for one thing. My other one is basically a sports bag and I’ve had it for years now. I also looked stopped by a [Smith] and some other stalls, but most stuff was too expensive or not something I can get right now. And you?”

Micah showed him the manual he had bought and Ryan browsed through with clear interest in his eyes. He could always read it, Micah told him. What was Micah’s was Ryan’s, too.

Speaking of backpacks, Micah remembered the Tower Nettle he had carried around for hours yesterday, so they bought some boxes in various shapes that he could keep in his pack, as well as a small lidded basket that he could fasten at his hip or put in his pack if he had enough space.

Ryan suggested he get himself something custom-made for a climbing alchemist someday. Micah liked the shape of that.

Then they bought a sack of flour, lots of gelatin, some specific oils, chalk, wool grease, some regular herbs, some Tower herbs, and light crystals at Ryan’s unspoken request.

He had brought them to a place all the way at Southgate in Hadica where the old railroad had been and workers were tearing up the street. Apparently, they were leveling the area in preparation for a possible new train station that was supposed to connect to Lighthouse’s regional network? Micah was surprised that he hadn’t heard about that earlier. That was kind of a big deal. He just hoped it wouldn’t drive his brother out of business, but Aaron usually headed North anyway, right?

They weren’t far enough along that Micah could see any building efforts and therefore, no glowing pavement. So Ryan brought him to a place in Watertown instead, where they were installing new street lamps. Those apparently didn’t even need fire potions.

Micah eyed their glass cases and couldn’t see any wicks or containers for fuels. Just a little bit of metal. How did they work? How would they be refilled?

“Are they enchanted?” he mumbled.

Ryan shrugged and pointed at some of the ones where they were further along. The ground was actually glowing a little there. It was hard to see in the daylight, but Micah bet it looked awesome at night. He told Ryan as much.

“They’re electric,” an older man told them, butting into their conversation. He must have seen them staring.

“Excuse me?” Ryan asked.

Micah thought of Mr. Faraday’s workshop and asked, “Like with generators and engines?”

The man smiled a little and shook his head, “No. No engines, my boy. Those use wires that run underground to connect them to a, well, a large battery if you will. It runs electricity through those light bulbs you see there.” He raised an actual walking cane and pointed at one of the lamps. Nearby, a few other onlookers glanced up. Ryan and he weren’t the only curious ones.

Micah glanced at Ryan. Did you get any of that?

He shook his head.

“You see, they’re actually a hybrid design. We bought the base design from Overseas and adjusted it to use resources we can find in the Towers,” he said and launched into a lengthy—and overly enthusiastic—explanation on how these light bulbs worked.

Micah understood about zilch of it all.

When there was a break in his explanation and a nearby mother asked the man a question about how long they would last or if they would easily break—some kids liked to throw stones at street lamps after all—Ryan peered down at Micah without looking away from the man, as to not be rude, and whispered, “Guild offers an Overseas Studies elective?”

Micah nodded vehemently. He didn’t understand. And he didn’t like not understanding.

The first best chance they got, they bailed on the man who was offering the same explanation anew to a few others. A few streets over, Ryan asked, “So … how have your light potion experiments been coming along?”

Micah frowned sheepishly up at him. “I haven’t … been … experimenting at all?”

Apparently, Ryan had the dark cave where they had found the treasure chest, along with an Earth Boar, in mind. And with Lisa being absent again today, he suggested they shouldn’t always rely on her for light.

If Micah could have used [Candle] or even just held a torch …

He had a recipe for a light potion in his book. This time, they bought the ingredients for it. Next time, Ryan said they could go to the floor they came from and get the ingredients themselves.

Lastly, he bought extremely expensive Perspit leaves. The main ingredient for a middle-grade healing potion.

They set the grocery bags off at his place, sorted out everything that couldn’t be seen in Micah’s house, and brought only one bag each with a few crystals tucked away in Micah’s pocket to his place.

Micah settled for making three different types of glues and a vague plan on how he could use them, using the two new crystals he’d found and some regular ingredients. Thankfully, he was almost done when his mom came home through the backdoor, because he had added the crystals by then already.

Ryan immediately jumped up from where he was doing pushups on the floor and greeted her awkwardly. He looked like he wanted to shake her hand but couldn’t, because … push-ups on floor.

“Mine, too,” his mom said, holding her palms up to reveal dirt stains. “I just bought some new flowers for the garden.”

“I can, uh, help you set them, ma’am, if you’d like?” Ryan offered.

Micah shot him a glare that. What are you doing?

Ryan shrugged. Iunno.

“Oh, that would be lovely. But first, let me just make sure my son isn’t endangering himself or others, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

So Micah spent a few minutes explaining how he was making glues with very normal ingredients, like flour, and oil, and old paper, and that he didn’t really have a use for them aside from playing pranks on his friends—or monsters, he thought—but she could use them for the posting boards if she’d like?

That seemed to satisfy her, because she brushed a hand through his hair and abducted Ryan to the garden.

Micah squinted at them through the kitchen window. Then he squinted some more. He’d accidentally rubbed some glue on his eyelid.

By Saturday morning, Micah had made three different types of glues, a simple Tower Nettle tea that Ryan loved to drink, salve and potion versions of Hale’s Lesser Regeneration flavored with herbs to help with aches, a cover paint for maintaining his armor and dagger that Ryan said stunk too much—he taught Micah how to maintain his metals by simple drying and dry-keeping instead—a Potion of Lesser Toughness that gave him the Skill for an hour—Ryan refused to punch him to test out its effects—and an extremely expensive middle-grade healing potion that he had made from Perspit leaves, Honey Ant goop, flesh crystals, and lots of powders similar to ingredients used in some strength potions. He had to mince everything down until it was a barely viscous liquid. Usually, [Alchemists] would use [Dissettle] and [Dissolve] for this. Micah had to do it by hand.

Because he was working with just [Infusion] and only made a single batch, not a whole tub like other [Alchemists] did, the potion’s price was only a little cheaper than if he had bought it himself, not including the hours he had put into buying the ingredients and making it. But it was still more than he could afford to pay either way. And, of course, he couldn’t get the Perspit Leaves himself either way.

It wasn’t exactly the healthiest potion either. Lisa told him if he used it too often or for every little wound he got, it could lead to all sorts of problems, like long-term diseases, deficiencies, or deformities in his body.

But it was his and he had made it. Finally, Micah had made his first middle-grade healing potion.

Unfortunately, that didn’t make him level up.

“I don’t get it,” Micah mumbled as Ryan and he waited in line at the Guild.

Out of an irrational fear of presentation, Micah had packed his "proper" clothes and forced Ryan through the bathhouse so they would look their best … when they gave their application forms to a receptionist at the Guild, who had no bearing on the application process whatsoever.

All around him, Micah spotted scores of other kids waiting in long lines, holding similar envelopes in hand. A lot of them had adults beside them holding the papers instead. Some were in groups of two or three with their friends, like them. Ryan’s parents were both working, so they couldn’t have come along even if they had wanted to, sadly. But today was the second-to-last day. Apparently, a lot of people were still applying.

Whenever Micah felt excitement or trepidation about that bubbling up in his chest, he focussed on not having leveled up again and replaced it with flimsy fake frustration about that. He didn’t want to sweat too much either, or he’d get his envelope clammy.

“It’s been five weeks since you leveled up to level eight,” Ryan told him. “And you already want nine?” He knit his brows a bit as he thought about something.

What are you thinking about? Micah thought.

Ryan was in his proper shirt again. Micah had made him wear it. And apparently, he owned exactly one of those. It really did make him look like a drummer boy. He was only missing the embroidery and sashes, and maybe a little bit styled hair? Or if he let it grow out a little, too … That made Micah wonder how Ryan celebrated his birthday.

“How are you even level eight already?” Ryan asked. “I bet apprentice [Alchemists] make dozens of potions each weak, right? How many have you made by now? Two-hundred, maybe three-hundred total?”

Micah thought it over and the number did seem somewhere thereabouts.

“Yeah, but I figured out most of the recipes for myself,” he protested. “Through trial and error, and sweat and blood. And those are [Apprentices]. They learn slowly and orderly so they get just the right Skills from their masters.”

Micah imagined himself doing that and he couldn’t deny that he saw a certain appeal to its stability. The passage of knowledge, skills, and traditions from one generation to the next, from master to student, seemed almost pure to him, for some reason. There was also the pragmatic aspect that you knew what you were in for. But on the other hand … Where was the autonomy? Or rather his autonomy?

And even worse than that, it just seemed boring. Micah wanted to forge his own Path.

“Plus, if four levels per year is the average,” he said with half a mind, “I’m average right?”

Ryan snorted. “As if.”

Like Ryan was one to complain. He was level seven, too. And he had like, five Stats Skills, among which were [Vitality], [Strength], [Endurance], and pseudo-[Perception]. That was the dream.

Micah had … [Vibrancy] and [Agility]. Huh.

“Next, please,” a polite voice called and they stepped up.

Distracted by so many things that morning, Micah hadn’t even noticed whose reception they had been standing in line for.

“Oh hello, Ryan,” Linda greeted them her tell-tale smile, even if she seemed little tired. She must have spent all morning dealing with applications. “And Micah.” She smiled a little wider. “It’s good to see you two again. You look well. And taller. You’re growing by the minute, aren’t you?”

Micah glanced up at Ryan out of reflex, but he didn’t look that much taller. But really, it was just a distraction for a few seconds to buy himself a moment to think. Remembering himself, he said, “Good morning, Linda” at the same time as Ryan greeted her, “Hey, there, Lin— Oh, sorry. Go ahead.”

“No, you go ahead,” Micah told him.

Linda smiled. “It’s nice to see you two together. How can I help you?”

Ryan put his folder onto the counter and Micah slid his one on after, as if he could somehow hide what it was.

“We’d like to hand in our applications,” Ryan told her.

Her eyebrows shot up only a little bit, though she must have been expecting it. Everyone else was handing applications this morning as well. She did glance at Micah, but it wasn’t with a frown or anything. That was good, right?

“Both of you…?” she asked politely.

“Yes, ma’am,” Micah said.

After a heartbeat, she nodded, still smiling. “And did you double-check to make sure everything is inside?”

Ryan echoed him with more confidence, “Yes, ma’am.”

Micah had double and triple checked. And spent his fair share of time holding the sealed envelope Garen had handed him to windows to try and see the writing through the paper. Ryan had tried as well. His eyesight was better after all. It was his recommendation letter. Micah had no idea what it said. Guessing by how thin it was, not much. Micah wouldn't be surprised if it literally said, "Hey, I recommend this dude. -Garen"

“Alright then.“ Linda took the folders and put them in a basket between her seat and the next, where dozens of similar ones lay. Then she got two small slips of paper for the both of them. “You’ll just need to fill out a small form for me confirming that you handed them in and you should receive a confirmation slip with additional information in the mail sometime next week. If not, just drop by here and we’ll get it sorted out.”

“Mail?” Micah asked.

He hadn’t even thought of that. He’d dreamed of getting an acceptance letter in the mail someday and handing it to his parents proudly, but something as simple as a confirmation slip with further information?

If his parents saw that ...

“Will that be a problem?” Linda asked him.

“Oh, uhm, no,” Micah mumbled and shrunk down a little, but that was stupid. Of course it would be a problem! He switched tunes and looked up. “Actually, yes. Can I have my form back to change something really quick and come back later?” Belatedly, he remembered to ask Ryan first. ”Uhm, if it’s alright with you?”

Ryan needed a moment to catch on, but then he nodded.

“Of course,” Linda said. “Actually, we have spare envelopes right here. Have a pen. You can just fill out the forms over there”—she pointed a little to the side of the counter and handed everything over. A few steps further, some people from the next line over were filling out similar forms for the receptionist there—”And hand it back to me when you’re done.”

“Thank you,” Micah said and carefully ripped the envelope open again.

Ryan got to filling out the other form and the ones next-in-line stepped up next to them.

Micah found the section mentioning his home address and struck it out, then changed it to Ryan’s. The line looked straight, but it still pained Micah. He just didn’t see another option. Then he wrote down the same address in the corner of the new envelope and licked it shut.

“Thank you, Linda,” he said when it was their turn again.

“Don’t mention it.”

Despite being done, they stood for a moment as Micah felt like he should say something. Anything. He opened his mouth, but Linda spoke first, “Good luck on your exams, both of you. I’ve been hearing good things about the Guild’s plans for the school and I really hope you’ll make it in. So try your best.” She pressed both of her thumbs down for them.

“Thank you,” they both said.

Ryan assured her, “We will. Uhm, have a nice day.”

They didn't say much else. There was a long line behind them. But they did wave while they left. The applications were out. Now, Micah just had to make sure he would get in.