------- Chapter 1: Alive ------

Confined and small, wrapped in a bundle and kept warm. I quickly develop as I explore the sensations around me. I would wake, feed, and feel as I gain a greater ability to pay attention to what was around. Though my physical control is still limited the words inside my mind were being replaced by the words spoken by by those around me. I was adapting to my body as I grew and I became more familiar with how it worked. Though I cannot help but forget what I used to know and I dearly grasp onto the thoughts and memories I can recall.

However, much must have been lost as each day replaces what I had known.

I came to understand my surroundings better as I observed and made sense of the things happening around me. My parents were cautious, they expressed what I could feel is concern over my behaviour.

I only made some noises when I need food or changing, yet they worry when I was quiet and show signs of relief when I made noise. I cannot quite grasp what they say; however, I can recognize their expressions.

My Mother has very light brown hair with dark brown eyes. Her nose is soft to the touch with a smoothly round tip; I felt this as she brought her face close. Her nostrils do not flare out much and her lips are small when closed. She was not able to hide her smile during inspections.

Her jaw is not sharp leading to a round chin. Her eyebrows were not thin yet not bushy. Leading up to her forehead, her hairline was low and even, with the front half of her hair braided. Her hair was grown down just past her shoulders.

What really caught my attention were her ears. The image of an ear that came to mind was a round shape; however, her ears are pointed in the shape of a triangle. I feel my own ears and notice a similar, although smaller, shape. I have the same skin colour as her, a very light brown. I do not know if my other traits match her own.

My father is noticeably more dirty compared with my mother, he takes me from mother and holds me close to his face. He likely wants to share in my inquisitiveness. I touch the scruff of his facial hair and pull my hand away, a thousand pricks jabbed into my soft small hands.

I hear laughter from my mother and could view my father’s embarrassment as he passes me back.

His hair is darker, with lighter highlights of brown mixed into his nearly black hair. His eyes are the same dark brown and his nose flares a little more than mother’s. His lips are not as smooth, combined with his jaw being more square and his slightly dimpled chin he gives off a rugged appearance. His ears are the same by the way and his forehead hairline is not as even as mother’s. He later came back with a clean face free of bristles and held his face close again but I had moved on to other things by then.

Within a few months my growing body had the ability to crawl and I began to be fed solid foods. The food variety included cooked grains, vegetables, meats, and fish. Mostly food that was cooked to soften while my parents were more likely to eat their food dry and hard. Though, this changed during the year as I also began to have greater mobility to explore the home.

The house was a single floor building with mostly wooden floor and log walls. There were some places with fur spread on the ground, fur covered pillows were placed on the ground for people to lean on while sitting on the ground. Food would be placed on small tables that could easily be placed where someone was sitting. The objects in the house were mostly storage pots and barrels with some tables and stools. The house itself was partitioned into five rooms, two were bedrooms, the beds were furs filled with plant straw, like the pillows. The spread of furs and pillows on the floor was in the larger main room surrounding a small fire pit. There was a kitchen room on the other side from the two bedrooms which a fire could be light within a stone and clay oven. The last room on the opposite end from the entrance was for storage, the storage containers, full or empty, contained mostly preserved foods, clean water, furs, and leathers.

From the wooden plank roof, candle lanterns were hung to provide needed light. I had wondered how my mother was lighting these, she didn’t seem to hold anything to create a flame. One day while she was preparing the fire pit I noticed a flame coming from her hands after she mumbled some kind of chant. When she noticed me, she smiled and began to show off how the flame materialized above the palm of her hand before it extinguished.

I began to take note of her words, I had to grasped the meaning of their words and my mother was quite startled when I started babbling. She was surprised by how close the babbling was to their own words. She quickly picked me up and brought me outside. I hadn’t been outside so, I was interested in seeing the house from this perspective. It was pretty bland, covered in strips of bark for roofing. The surrounding property was fenced off by woven twigs between small posts. Inside the yard were small plowed patches with vegetables growing. The different partitions of the yard seemed to relate to where the small walking birds were partitioned into.

Mother began to take me around to a small shack hut where Father was working on preparing an animal carcass. This explains where all the furs and leather came from, Father seems to hunt these animals.

“Berti, Berti! I have to show you something!”

Berti is the name mother often calls Father, occasionally I hear him called Bertic by guests.

Upon hearing this, Bertic turns around with an expression mixed with confusion and excitement. Bertic drops his tools and quickly comes close, his face has a few drops of blood on it.

“What is it Carrie?”

Carrie is Mother’s name, there is not a formal version of it that I have heard.

“Oh, Kordi has something to say to youuuu~”

She bashfully rocks me back and forth, beaming with pride. She follows up saying to me, “Kordi, say dad-da.”

I look at Carrie, I did not feel like saying that.

After a brief pause Carrie tries to coach me on with a smile, “Oh c'mon, don’t be shyyy~ how about momma?”

“Oh i’m sure Kordic was just babbling something.” Bertic replies, using my formal name.

Carrie turns to face him, “Berti, I heard him, he was saying some clear words.” She puffed her cheeks.

I reach my hand forward pressing on Carrie’s cheeks causing her to spit air out in surprise. Bertic began laughing holding his knees. Carrie tries to hide her embarrassment but I could see her ears were red.

----- One year later -----

My parents brought me to a neighbour’s home, a child around the same age was with the neighbours. My parents were concerned about me since I was not behaving like other babies. I was introduced to Fergus, our neighbour’s child. I never remembered the neighbour’s names as I was placed near Fergus to play and we both kept to ourselves.

Fergus stared at me and began to crawl around looking for something among the the people who were resting on fur pillows. I decide to listen in on our parent’s conversation curious to hear some new words.

“Your Kordi is so quiet, I havn’t heard a peep from him, is he normally like this?”

“Oh, yes even at home I’ve never heard him cry, he will let you know if he’s hungry or needs to be cleaned though.”

“Wow, our Fergus is so loud at night we rarely get sleep. It must be nice.”

“Well, I am worried about Kordi since he doesn’t seem to cry even if he falls.”

“Is there anything wrong, can he feel pain?”

My father chips in, “I pinched him once and he gave me a quick reaction, his expression was something like, hey, don’t do that. Haha”

Fergus’ father replied back, “Well if that is the case, I hope he grows into a brave young man, our militia needs more men who don’t cry over little things.”

The two fathers begin to talk about their time on militia patrol, especially about the new members. The militia seems like a local group of hunters and villagers who group up at times to confront bandits and creatures in the wilds.

“You remember when that farmer, Brent, had his first run with us?”

“Yes, he was always trying to worm his way out of a patrol, his mulon being pregnant, and such.”

“Haha, yes, when we finally cornered him, all he did was whine - my feet hurt I was walking all day chasing chige!” My father made a wimpy expression to act out what this Brent farmer said.

I have seen the chige, they are big birds that can not really fly, but they lay good eggs. We have a few penned in the yard and some villagers have much larger pens to produce surplus food stocks. Chige are a grey and white bellied bird with long necks and black tipped wings. It also seems like they can swim even though they don’t have webbing on their feet. They probably just stand in water up to their chest.

“He never tied his boots right, so his feet were blistering from loose boots. We told him but since he already worked his ankles raw the extra pressure hurt. So, he didn’t believe us when we said tightening the boots would still help.” The two fathers continued to lament over this farmer Brent.

My mother is talking with Fergus’ mother about other things now, such as her garden and the weather. Their topic drifted after a while.

“I’ve been letting one of my malto planets go to seed as she’s lasted through the frost well.”

“Really? My matos were ruined from that early frost.”

“Yes, I’ll give a few seeds for you to try and we’ll see if it helps.”

The Mato plant grows a thin green skinned fruit that is very juicy on the inside. It is a bit sour but it grows fast enough while producing a lot of fruits and it seems to enjoy our climate.

“How is your charrot crop doing?” My mother asks.

“As long as the buck rodents don’t get into the field the weather has been good enough I will have a good crop of them.”

The buck rodents are a collection of small animals with large front teeth that are pests for vegetable farmers. The Charrot is grown for its white root that is crunchy and nutritious. However, they are a favorite of these rodents. I find the charrot roots are almost always boiled after the manure and soil is washed off, though they can be eaten uncooked. The buck rodents are sometimes caught and used for food, even with little meat and fur. The usual traps to catch them are snares and cages which are not usually reliable making these rodents a challenge to deal with.

The mothers continue onto another topic when Carrie asks about the other families. Fergus’ mother begins to explain some of the events going on that she knows of. I stop following their conversation here.

Fergus is becoming impatient and began throwing a small leather ball around. He eventually threw it past me and he begins to quickly crawl after it. I feel like accepting this race and crawl after it. As we crawl at the same pace, I begin to smirk. It is time to use my secret technique, the two legged waddle!

I pull myself onto my feet and speed forth with such speed that a sickly rodent would be blown away. I leave Fergus in the dust and reach the ball first, victory. My mother has a shocked look on her face, I had trained my secret technique away from her eyes, so this must be a surprise for her. Fergus draws closer, crawling on his hands and knees laughing and giggling. My technique is indeed impressive is it not? Fergus knocks me over and grabs the ball.

The second year, I continue to explore the small home, mostly to see what things my parents have inside of their jars, barrels, and boxes. Furs, leathers, vegetables, bones, dried meat and dried fruit. My Father mostly exchanges his extra fur, leather, meats, and bones. We did cook some of the smaller bones to give flavour to soup, other bones are used for crafting things like tools. The very small bones could be made into needles once sharpened, larger bones and sinew for making bone handles. We occasionally have horns and claws from some of the other animals. Judging from the size of these horns and claws, the animals he hunts might be dangerous.

Since I had observed my parents use some simple magic I have spent some of my time trying to understand how this works. While there was some low tone chanting I found that I was also able to grasp a feeling for manipulating somethings.

However, at best I can make a candle flame flicker without blowing at it, rolling a pebble, or stirring some water. I managed to pick up on a few of the chant syllables which have a little extra effect. I can make water and stone become lighter or separate a water bubble from a body of water. The practice takes a year to figure out, I practice mostly while outside after finding a puddle or small stone. Fire may be too dangerous to play with so I avoid experimenting with it after lightly burning my finger.

My usual magic routine became a practice of finding a cup or puddle of water and balancing a bubble of water on the surface without the small bubble merging with the water below. It is quite difficult and I can feel myself become mentally fatigued quickly. Yet each day I could hold it a little longer, so I felt encouraged.

My social life is not moving along much, I met with Fergus a few times, he is still babbling so we can not hold anything like a conversation. Our socialization mostly came down to him playing with anything he could find and I would just watch. If I try to join in he would try to take what I found. I roam around finding insects to feed to the chige with Fergus until he tries to grab a chige and he gets pecked on his forehead.

I have a diverse vocabulary, but I never show it off. My parents are pretty surprised when I respond with words and soon they are coaching me through conversations. I also begin to look for words and letters written down places. My family does not own anything like books so, I can assume their literacy is low. There are a few words they use to mark containers with, or items they brought back from a market with markings already on it. I want to find more of these words and characters as if there is something long forgotten in my mind about their importance.

On my third year I have the endurance to walk for much longer distances so I do not need to be carried at all. This allows me to travel into the local market with my parents when they do some trading. While there is currency in use here, most of the trading is done through existing relationships. My father will provide another villager with surplus food and materials to gain a type of credit with that villager for future trade. So, when my father and mother need something from this villager, they can just request it. If they maintain an equal enough trade over time then there will be enough trust that more can be requested and more offered in return.

Merchants are generally the ones who barter or trade currency for things they wished to stock up on for a trip to a larger city. One such merchant notice me while my parents are discussing an exchange with a neighbouring merchant. He calls out to me, advertising toy figures at the front of his stand. “Hey boy, how would you like a strong knight under your command?”

The merchant holds up a wooden knight figure with a thin metal pole held in the figure’s hand. I raise an eyebrow and show an indifferent face. The merchant pauses for a bit and grabs another toy to show off, however, I look at a wood board with letters carved into it placed under the merchant’s stall, I ask, “What does this say?”

“Oh? That is my store name, Rembra the Traveling Merchant!”

“So, this part reads Rembra?”

“Oh, yes, quite smart you are. How about a charm that will make you even smarter?”

The merchant holds up piece of cheap jewelry on a string. I raise my eyebrow again and reply, “Make it an amulet of flight and you got a deal.”

“HAHA!” The Rembra breaks out into laughter, “There is no magic like that, but spells of that kind of scale would need a pentagram of circles.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

Rembra leans forward, “That info won’t be cheap.”

I rest my hand on my chin and respond, “Half of my lunch for your troubles.”

Rembra snickers, “Half of that won’t be enough for me.”

“I am still growing, while you are growing too much.” I snark back.

“HAHAHA~!” Rembra nearly fell over, “Well said.”

Rembra waves me over to the other side of his stall and we sit down. I pull out some of the dried meat in my bag. Rembra begins to explain, “Since magic requires some form of structuring easy magic can be done with a single chanter. However, more complex spells need either multiple chanters or layering magical circles written before the spell can be prepared.”

“I can’t read or write.”

“Indeed,” Rembra comments as he reaches for a piece of thin wood. He begins to scratch onto it with a short tool with a blade on the end for carving. He shows me the different letters on the piece and explains which makes what sound.

“There are better texts for explaining words but this is a pretty basic alphabet.” He hands the wood to me and continues, “Whether they are carved from wood, stone, or wax they will still cost you more. Especially parchment and proper books.”

“What kind of goods would trade well enough to get more?” I ask with a straight face.

Rembra raises his eyebrows at seeing such a young child making a serious discussion.

“Around here I like to get horns with medicinal properties, rare herbs, and high quality furs. Most other items that trade well require more skill or effort to be worth enough.” Rembra looks over the the neighbouring tent, “Your father is a hunter so he can teach you some of the ways to hunt, but you are too young to hunt and travel deep enough to find the high value materials.”

“Hmm, I’ll think about it.” I reply as I begin to walk back to where my parents were, “Thank you for the alphabet.”

Rembra nods as he thought over the strange conversation he just had.

My parents are a little confused that I hold a flat chunk of wood with letters carved into it and, especially that I traded half of my lunch for it.

My plan to acquire enough trading goods for a book began as I gathered up a stockpile of seeds. The plan is to use my time to tend to a small herb garden, Mother is very interested in me following her close as she tended her garden and my father supports the idea as he is familiar with different plants and herbs in the area.

While I begin digging soil my mother often came by to watch and comment how endearing it is I was playing in the garden. However, I never went around at it in such a way, I have a feeling I will need to ensure the soil is good before I begin to grow it. As such, I have gather some different kinds of composting material to work into the ground. When I started, winter had begun to end and it became a good time to start working the soil. I payed attention to how my Mother prepared her compost and how the soil was tilled. Mimicking her I try to apply that on my small patch. It is not easy and I am too small to use the larger tools.

To supplement this, I began to change how I practice with earth magic and use it to carve stones to make a small shovel and hoe I can hold in one hand. Carving the stone with magic is not easy, it takes time to feel the stone and applying what I felt to be magical force into the rock. Depending on where I apply this force and angle I am able to shear away small pieces of stone where the different minerals are bonded the weakest.

Tending the patch became a routine as I found more compost material in the area. The ideal fertilizer was in the chige pen, my parents would move the pen and fence to old farm areas. Inside the pen, the chige would scratch up the soil in search for grubs, which worked their own poop into the dirt.

When my mother saw how well my soil was doing she decides to bring me to the village herbalist and doctor to give me some advice on growing good herbs. The Herbalist room is full of hanging herbs and various smells. The Herbalist himself is working on tending some plants inside of a sheltered room which allows light in through a glass window on the roof. Glass is very rare around the village and I can imagine how useful it is to have a clear barrier to protect the herbs while allowing in light.

“Hello Darren, this is Kordic whom I told you about.” mother says while her hand gently pushes me forward.

“Hello Ms Blann, he shares your hair, I do find it interesting that such a young boy would be interested in Herbs and Medicine.” Darren replies, he nods towards me as he places a bowl to the side.

I nod towards Darren, it seems like my mother had mentioned me to a few people. Darren is a strange man to look at, he is middle aged with some wrinkles already appearing on his face but what most interests me is his hair, a reddish orange while his facial hair is a black colour. He wears a robe that should be more white but it is brown from dirt.

Darren tours me through his herbal gardens, the sheltered ones and the outdoors gardens planned and tilled. According to Darren outdoor plants are mostly going to be for large harvests of the grincer herb that is well adapted for the climate, is hardy, and acts as a very useful herb for an all around medicine. While the more expensive herbs are grown inside.

“Why wouldn’t you produce more of the valuable herbs?” I ask.

“If I did, then the demand of grincer would not be met, because it is such a useful herb the demand is high and merchants will always buy it. Whereas I cannot produce rarer herbs at a high enough quality for merchants to regularly buy. I grow the rare herbs to keep my own supply just in case.”

From our conversations I am able to learn how often I can harvest grincer crops as the herb may be harvested at least three times a year. The leaves are the important part, especially when harvested young when the leaves and stems would be soft enough. He grinds the plant in a pedestal, the paste is to be applied onto bandages. By drying the leaves and dicing the grincer is often used in teas or cooking for its mild effects and all around uses. It seems the qualities of the herb are not destroyed from heat.

Later on I begin to learn about Darren’s other job as a healer. He would use his herbal medicine to tend to wounds but wounds serious enough or disease he could not treat could be remedied through healing magic to reduce the severity.

I ask him, “why can you not completely heal them with magic?”

Darren replies, “I would run out of mana, when you are older I can try to teach you how it is done. We always need more people who can do even rudimentary healing. The greatest limit I have is running out of mana so, I must conserve my own and use enough to stabilize their condition.”

The path to Darren’s place is an hour walk for my short legs and the trail is safe with enough traffic around that I would rarely be alone, so long as I travel during the day it will be fine. When I visit again Darren is impressed with my interest in what few books and engravings he owns. I am given permission to visit whenever I like to read. The books are mostly arranged with the left page containing information about a single plant and the right page contained a sketch of the plant’s appearance. Darren himself occasionally writes an extra book once a year. Usually during the winter when he has some spare time.

The single pieces of engraved wood or wax he has contain a variety of information, most of these are recipes for medicines and potions. The others are notes he records about different diseases, infections, sickness, and treatments. I find some of this information is not complete. For instance, I can not confirm the understanding I had in my head about what causes disease and infection. The information here tells of miasma spreading through the air or being transferred by contact. Some medicines can block this miasma. Yet, in my head, I have an image that these infections are being caused by small things that could not be seen with the normal eye. I am cautious about talking about this knowledge of mine until I can find some way to confirm or prove it.

Previously when I had become sick with a simple cold my mother treated by serving me some boiled grincer leaves. That taste was something that inspired me to do something with the grincer plants I am now growing. I began organizing some things I will need.

First, a safe type of yeast which will not produce poison when sealed in an airtight space with juice. Some of the neighbours will share their yeast that they ferment foods or mashed starches with and I am able to use some left over from an old container that had fermented mash in it as a source of yeast.

Next, I find a supply of wild berries. Berry bushes are plentiful and we often eat these berries as a snack or a fermenting mash. I decide to stockpile them and squish them down to get the juice separated from the seeds.

Lastly, I need barrels which are very large for my size. I find some smaller old barrels one neighbour is going to throw away soon. These barrels had been used to hold tubers in a sheltered pit over the winter to act as seeds for the spring planting. Over a few years the barrels were becoming moldy and infecting the seed tubers with annoying fungus. I have to scrape off much of the mold and used fire to scorch the wood to try and prevent any contamination.

By the time I turn four I have things ready, my first crop of grincer herbs is harvested and the quality is very good thanks to the soil preparations. I grind the grincer down to a paste over a flat stone and mixe the paste with the squeezed berry juice. I add a small amount of stream water to keep the solids submerged in the barrel after taking some advice from Darren.

Once I finish I sprinkled in some yeast and closed the lid, not worrying about a complete seal. Some more advice I received has been to allow the mixture to release air but to not allow air to enter.

Cutting the yeast off of air will force it to produce alcohol. This is something that certain villagers would make and I did find out some information about the local brewing from Daren and his potion recipes. This has helped me identify which yeast would make alcohol and which would produce vinegar.

I practice some of my fire magic by restraining it to just warm the liquid inside the barrels up. The warmth will help the yeast work and I get to practice a safe form of fire magic. Fire magic is mostly used at its extreme to create fire; however, heat can be produced on its own. I did learn some of this by observing Darren healing some wounds as he is able to warm his patients through his healing magic. It seems that healing mixes a few different effects to quicken up the body’s healing process.

I also experiment with healing, within the past year I have scraped or cut myself by accident. I used this opportunity to see how healing is possible by focusing my mana onto stimulating the tiny building blocks of my body to multiply to rebuild.

While I do listen into Darren’s healing chant, when I try it on my own time the sensation just feels too broad, as if I were pumping mana in and hoping the wound heals. I am not satisfied using an ambiguous method to heal myself.

When my parents see me filling the remaining barrels with fruit juices and herbs they ask me what I was doing. I am honest and tell them I want to try brewing medicinal potions. Potions were a valuable commodity and our village produced very few of these.

I decided to use alcohol as a preservative and grincer as the main herb. I do have some other recipes planned to adjust the flavour and herbal effect. For example, the Rain weed is an herbal weed that grows commonly in wet places has an effect of stimulating mana recovery. It is blue in colour. The pinch plant has yellow flowers that stimulate one’s stamina, but the pinch plant is very sour and can be difficult to grow. However, I will stick with the grincer and fruit blend for now.

In about two months the yeast will have produced enough alcohol that it will die and be ready for the next step. During the wait I find a spot for clay with the advice from my father and I began to practice using earth magic to form clay bottles. I chose to make them with wide bottoms, a long narrow neck, and a handle on both sides. These could be sealed with bark corks.

I use a simple wagon to haul the unbaked clay to the potter’s place to borrow their kiln. I must be quite the sight, a four year old running around the village setting up his own brewery. My parents seem to be content to watch how far I will get. I do hear comments about how it was strange for me to be doing something like this at such a young age. I spend time getting advice from others along the way and no one has asked where I got the idea from.

Potion brewing is something the village is interested in but never has the time to set up in between their regular work. I even have some other mothers talk to me about marriage with their daughters. Being far under the age to hit puberty I do not feel interested. Which has me thinking about my mysterious understanding that makes me familiar with a lot of things I should not know.

Two months later I open the first barrel, a strong smell of berries and herbs rises out with another scent, the smell of liquor. I use water magic to draw out the liquid, leaving behind the solid dregs. The filtered fluid is transferred into a metal drum that is about my own height and I can only hold a small amount of liquid at a time with magic.

I set a fire under the pot and stoke the fire with more wood. Soon the boiling began and I cover the drum with a lit that has a bone tube that allows the boiling vapor to leave. I wait for the water to boil off and replace the clay bottles as they fill. While the process continues the smell and colour of the liquid leaving the drum becomes more like the fruit and herbs. The liquid later takes on a more amber colour with a clear shine. Emptying one of the 4 barrels I had prepared, I decide to call it a day, tomorrow I will have enough mana to process another barrel.

The next day my Father saw me rolling out an empty barrel to clean the dregs out, he came and asked if me about my potions.

“Kordi, how did the potions turn out?”

“I don’t know, they are too strong for me to drink.”

“Really? Well, you're too young to handle it since you did brew the herbs to preserve them in alcohol. I’ll call some others over to taste.”

“Be sure to bring some stomach medicine.”

“Huh? What?” his reply is sudden.

“If the brewing didn’t go well it could be poisonous.”

“Oh… I don’t think it will have turned out that bad!” he laughs, shrugging off my warning.

My father then notices the burnt dregs on the inside of the barrel, a dark sludge that gives off a foul odour of burnt mash. He probably remembered his son is only 4 years old, surely a mistake was possible. He decides to stop by at the Herbalist’s house just in case.

Later in the day, I am using some of the mana I regained to manipulate the different liquor bottles, the more I practice the more I will improve my skill and I am able to feel some differences in the liquids. My Father announces his arrival home with a shout, he brings guests, I come out and am greeted by four other villagers. One is Fergus’ father, the others are also hunters my father usually works with in their militia.

“Kordi, lets see how poisonous these potions really are!”

“Berdic!” My mother scolds from another room.

“It is fine, Kordi said there is only a chance the brew didn’t work.”

With that, my father came out with one of the clay bottles, holding it by the handles on the neck the bottle was just larger than a man’s head at the base. I noticed the marking on it was one of the first from the barrel, the bottles have a different code marked onto them depending on their order.

I think they have been anticipating this months ago when my father must have brought it up. Alcohol was not common and I never saw any distilled liquors. The men each take a cup and waited for my father to uncork the first bottle.

“Wait!” I shout.

It is uncharacteristic of me to shout so the room froze.

“What! What is it?” my father asks, still stiff and confused.

“I don’t think that one is safe… too strong… I tasted a drip and my tongue got numb… It also is very flammable.” I try to organize a clear warning to explain my different tests.

While practicing with my water manipulation magic with the different bottles I could tell the density of the fluid was different and the flavour is not present on the first bottle. There is also a lingering concern about it that I became very worried, the fluid also felt too off and I could not really put it to words.

My father pours a little of the bottle into a cup and pours it over the fire creating a small plume of flame.

“Woah!” the guests held some excitement in their surprise.

“The other bottles feel… safer… tastes better too.” I add.

“Well, I guess this will make good fuel won’t it?” Father replies, handing the bottle over to mother while nodding, “would save us the trouble of using as much fire magic in the winter.”

He soon returns with another bottle and asks, “This one safe?”

I nod, “Uh. The first ones were too strong and had no taste but the last ones were weak, with more taste. So I mixed them all.”

He popped the cork out and we can smell scent of wild berries and grincer herb. My father exhales in relief, likely he was worried from smelling the burnt remains in the barrels.

“Well, for the first drink. Cheers!” My father said as he raised his cup, I did not notice him quickly fill the cups. The others followed in raising their cups.

“Cheers.”

Their cups tip back as they let the liquor run into their mouths, a sudden reaction shivers their bodies as the flavour of the herb, wild berry, and strong liquor hit their tongue. The men all wince at the sensation. Pulling themselves through they swallow their cup without a break.

“Pwaaaaa!”

The smell of the drink spreads around again as each man lets out a deep breath. Still battling with the flavour, they sit straight and take a moment before commenting.

“That is strong. Good though.”

“I can feel it warming all the way down my throat.”

“Breathing the vapour through my nose cleares it right up.”

The men sit for another moment before Berdic sais, “Another cup!”

“Another!”

Berdic grabbes the clay bottle and pores each man another cup. They sit straight and raise their cups again.

“Cheers.”

They tip the cups back again and brace themselves well to drink the second cup.

“Pwaaaa”

It is a relieved sound, two of the men even rest their hand on their bellies as they feel the warmth inside.

“This is good, the Grincer herb may be powerful but the berries sweeten the taste.”

“The bite of those wild berries is always welcome on my tongue.”

“I’ve never had such a strong drink before.”

“Kordi, how did you brew this?” My father asks.

“I boiled off the brew and captured the vapor before I bottled it.”

“Ohhh, that would do it.”

“I took the idea from how some bandages are made with boiled liquor to clean off miasma.”

“OHHH! So this drink cleans us of miasma then!”

“Another cup!”

“Cheers!”

The bottle is soon empty and each man was starting to become flush in the face and were facing down their last cup.

“I would hate to pry for more from your son Berdic.” one guest says as he slides to the side and rests limp over a fur cushion.

“Yeeees, he is saving for some booksssss, he is a smart boy of minnnnnne.” father slurs.

“Hahaaaaa~, you are not kidding about that, though I… I do feel bad… about… about drinking one of his bottles.”

“Well, heeeee did say he needed us to tesssssst it for poison.”

“Quite the poison indeed!”

“Haha~!”

I decide to chip in here after observing the effect of the liquor, “I do need the other barrels I will be preparing later tested, since any one of them could go bad.”

The men turn quietly to me, “Really?”

They are barely able to keep themselves propped up on the fur cushions.

However, as my father slowly makes an effort to finish the last cup my Mother grabs his cup and tips it back herself. Her eyes tightly closed shut as she struggles down the drink. After it is done she hold her hand over her mouth to muffle a cough.

The other men cheers, my father is a little sad but cannot rise to challenge her.

As the last cups empty my father’s guests are very drunk and merry. They sing and they play without standing, sliding on the cushions trying to grapple. I begin to stand up as I am feeling tired and the sunlight fades. However, I am caught, my mother Carrie grabbes me from behind and I am pulled back into her soft chest. My mother has quickly fell to the strong drink and she began to cuddle me and bury her nose into my hair.

“Kordiiii~ Such a smart boy~”

“Haha, indeed, a genius he is.”

“Pity he is not old enough to share in the drinks!”

The fire in the middle of the room begin to die down as no one could properly stand to feed it and gradually the room would darken. In time the men regained some of their strength to stand. The guests gave thanks and farewells are given before they leave for their homes. My mother finally lets go of me after father came and whispers into her ear. The noises of the night keep me up a little longer than usual. I guess mother and father want another child.

The following days I continue processing the last barrels and the stories from that merry night spread enough that I have volunteers to sample the drinks regularly. I give one bottle to my father for some visits he makes to the other houses and the last testing bottle is sent to Darren who is very interested in what I made. He expresses interest in stockpiling a few of these bottles for some treatments. I begin to plan with him to set up a better brewing and distilling set-up.

The bottles that I felt were too toxic and highly flammable are also popular as a convenient fire starter.

Before I turn five I meet with Rembra who has returned from a few trading runs, he has collected an assortment of toys and trinkets along the way. He probably sells them at a steep mark-up in these rural places so that he can purchase plenty of raw materials.

“Hello Rembra, good to see you again.” I greet him using polite gestures I wanted to try out.

Rembra pauses for a moment working his memory, but he quickly recalls my face.

“Oh yes, you are that child from last visit here. I do not believe you gave me your name.”

“I think I should only give my name when we do serious business.”

“Ohoh! What kind of serious business do you have today? Rare materials if I remember?” he replies with interest.

I shake my head, “Strong liquor with good grincer herbs and wild berry flavour fermented within.”

“Really?” Rembra seems a little down, maybe liquor does not trade well. “Do you have a sample?”

I draw out a leather water skin which is filled with some of the liquor and a cup from my small bag hung on my shoulder. I pour him some of the amber brown liquid and pass the cup. Rembra looks into the cup, it is clearly filtered and the strong aroma of herb and berry bites at the nose. He tips the cup back to drink, as the liquid came into his mouth he only slightly flinches. He looks prepared for it.

“hmmmm” He lets out, keeping a composed face, “This is very good and high quality. The strong herb certainly cleanses the mind and body.”

He takes a deep breath from his nose.

“Why did you wait to show this to me, there are surely many merchants who would jump to buy this?” Rembra says folding his arms. He looks at me as if to say that I should not be so attached to one merchant.

“I can tell the worth of a merchant from his belly. To thin and he’s desperate... struggling. To wide and he is greedy... overconfident.”

Rembra’s poker face breaks, “HAHAHA~”

He holds his face for a moment, still shuddering slightly before he composes himself again, “I am going to need enough to send around and secure buyers. Which means they will be gifts and I will not be able to make much them.”

I nod, “The Village is planning to set up a larger brewing place where we can produce at least 20 barrels every two months. Maybe expand later.”

Rembra’s eyes open a little more and I feel I can see gold replacing his pupils. He adds, “If they need to be supplied anything I will help.”

“They will need barrels and bottles.” I state, “I have used clay bottles right now but the taste is changed from it. Leather skins is not that bad… I’m not sure what other options are good.”

“hmm, yes clay makes wines taste odd, unless the potter can glaze it with metal or ash.” Rembra rubbed his chin, “If the village can produce as many barrels as you claim, then I will find some nice glazed jugs.”

“The process loses around half of the water but has double the concentration.”

“Ohh, that is good for transport, I will keep that in mind.” Rembra smiles.

After some small chat and serving more drinks, Rembra wants to give me a gift. He has brought a book from his travels, the book is written by a magical scholar who is researching into the laws of magic, what it can and cannot do along with what it may still be capable of doing.

Eventually Rembra left to gather clients with the sample bottles and I make regular stops by the brewery construction site as it is built. The village is becoming enthusiastic about the work and more continue to join in and collaborate to finish construction sooner. I can not claim the work here, I am only almost five years old.

The general view shared by the village adults is that once someone turns six they should work. I can not do anything to help complete this project, the local blacksmith is forging parts and the boiler. Carpenters are hard at work using some of the best wood they have to make the brewing vats, three large tanks will be initially built. They can easily fill eight barrels each.

These brewing vats have a metal rod through the center with stirring paddles attached onto the bar to allow the vat to be cleaned. Brewers often fill a sandy powder inside the vat, after stirring the container the sand will settle down and filter impurities. It is easier to stir the sand to filter than to use magic and drawing out the liquid to separate the impurities.

The clean liquid can be drawn out from a tap, drained into a container, where the the fermented juice can be boiled and distilled. The vapors will be captured and blended into their container.

During this time I made a change to the recipe based on my experimental batches over the year. The brewing stage will use mashed malt grains to produce more liquor. This makes the yeast work faster and these grain are cheaper over using fruits. I would then add in the herb and berry juices before leaving the barrel to ferment.

The distillery has three vats brewing within weeks of each other, so it is possible to produce a regular supply of liquor. When it comes to ownership, the village is the owner.

Many different villagers ended up pitching in to help build it, their enthusiasm is sparked by Rembra’s plan to gain high end buyers. This will bring in much revenue to the village and plans are made to host a festival once a year for the brewery.

The amount of credit I could hold is limited to being the one who came up with the recipe. I do not mind, I can focus on this excellent book on magical theory because of my closer connection with Rembra.

On the other hand, I am becoming quite popular. Mothers often come to visit with their daughters in tow. Five years old it is still early to have marriage talks but many families have hopes that they can get a head start gaining some favor with my family before I mature. The girls who come by are very young. Grumpy girls who are a few years older are not happy their mother’s are trying to marry them to a younger boy.

Meanwhile I now find the boys are territorial against me. This make my commute around the village difficult. I keep my distance and they just glare my way which would be fine by me; however, one day a group of boys comes close.

“Hey Kordic! What’s your problem huh?” an older boy shouts.

I am heading down to Darren’s place to do some study at this time. Most of the other boys know that is my route and generally do not bother with me if I just stick to that. The thing is, last night another mother came to visit with her daughter and now this boy of around eight years intercepts me with his group of five others, mostly younger boys.

“What’s he got there?” another boy asks.

I am carrying my book on magic theories.

“A book? Pretty fancy thing you got there, hand it over you’re not old enough for that!” the leader throws his fist forward.

“Or what, you think you’re better than us ‘cause you can read?” a third boy says trying to hide his excitement under an intimidating tone.

Running away will not solve this problem I feel if I did they would continue to hang around to keep me from going anywhere. This is one of the bigger groups I have seen roaming around, they have the numbers to keep eyes everywhere and only a portion of them are here.

Their leader begins to close in, what was his name again? Oh yea, Geo. Kind of a short name.

“Give it here!” The boy Geo demands reaching forward.

There is no way I can take on even one of them, I have not been training to fight while these boys often are play fighting. I did read up to a point on the different between external mana use and internal mana use from the book I hold. In particular, body enhancement, strengthening the muscle’s contraction speed comes to mind now that I find these boys drawing closer.

I tightly hold the book to my chest, I want escape so I need to minimize the possible places I can be grabbed. I focus my mana onto my calf muscles and thighs that I will need to push myself forward. My hips, my back muscles, and my shoulder muscles will help provide me with a burst of speed.

Geo now within reach aims to grab my shoulder with his right arm. I tuck under his reach and dash forward two steps and kick back into his leg. The force against the back of his knee causes him to fall over.

“Whaa!?” he gasps.

“Get him!”

The other boys begin to run towards me with their hands out. I keep myself tucked in and run towards another boy and dive under his hands, tackling into his chest. His lungs empty and he loses his grip he held on the back of my coat.

I spin to break his grip but another boy comes from the left, I side step in his direction and tack his shoulder pushing his arm away. Then I turn away to make a dash out of here. My leg is caught. The staggered boy manages to lunge after me and grabbed my ankle. I fall forward and turtle myself tucking my face and arms in.

The blows come down on me as the boys rush in to kick me over and over again. Even though there is a rush pumping through my body to numb the pain I can feel the blows from their heels against my bones.

“Hey!” I hear a loud shout.

“Damn, run!” Geo calls out and the kicks stop.

This path is busy enough that someone heard the commotion and one villager comes running over to me and asks, “Are you alright.”

I stand back up, I do not know what to say but I nod while looking down. The villager takes a look at me and guides me with them, “We need to get you cleaned up.”

“I… was heading to Darren’s.” is all that came out.

“We will go there, he can check up on you.”

The villager places their hand on my back as we walk. Unclear of what is going on I cannot help but be in a daze, the villager speaks but I do not hear nor do I look up at them.

Once we arrive at Darren’s place and I take a seat in the guest waiting area the rush of adrenaline has worn off. I can feel the stinging pain from the bumps and bruises on my arms, shoulders, back, and head. My heart rate is still strong, each beat pulsing blood through my body and my thoughts continue to wander.

What could I have done back there?

I know I cannot win a physical fight, what if I did try?

I could have used some magic. Would launching small stones disrupt their steps work? My best would only lift a stone, kicking it out of the way would be easy.

I could splash their eyes with muddy water… if there was any around, I don’t think so. What if I use the water from their body? Like the water in the eyes, heat it or even boil the water within seconds through heat magic…

I could have killed him if I did that.

This thought lingers, a body is mostly water, and within seconds I could have boiled him alive with the touch of my hand. He would have screamed and struggled in pain but he would die as the boiling water fills his veins…

What if I did that do him?

Shivers overtake me as I grab my head and tuck in.

How dangerous it would be if I did that.

I do not want to do that kind of damage.

The fear of what I could do next time fills my mind, when they return to continue the attack and no one comes to help, would I be driven to go that far? If I could break their bones and boil their flesh.

“Kordi?” Darren’s voice calls out.

Darren enters the room to now see me covered in dirt with my clothes ragged. He begins to wipe my forehead dyeing the cloth red, I must have been bleeding. He sits in the chair next to me before resting his hand on my shoulder. He mumbles a chant of healing and I feel a warmth in my body coming from his hand while the stinging pain disappears.

I do not pay attention to how long I sit here, neither of us say anything as my shuddering calms and in time he leads me back home. Along the way he breaks the silence, “Kordi, you don’t have to stay quiet about this, we can help you with this, you do not have to handle this on your own.”

I take a deep breath, we are in front of my home and I reply to Darren, “I am afraid of what I could have done.”

------ Darren’s POV ------

Carrie Blann came out after hearing us outside. She must have found out about the attack because she gives Kordi a tight hug. I notice Berdic Blann come from behind the Blann house and I wave him over. Carrie notices this and looks towards us, I wave her over as well. She lead Kordi back inside before coming over with a worried face.

“Darren what’s wrong, do you know who did this to Kordi?”

“How bad was it, you did heal him up after the attack right?”

I reply, “The attack itself was short, someone broke up the fight but it was very one sided. Six against one they were kicking Kordi while he was down.”

“Cowards…” Berdic cussed.

“Why would they do that to Kordi, what should we do, find out their families?”

I take a deep breath, trying to compose my response.

“I do not think that is the problem Ms Blann.”

She looks confused.

“Since I first met Kordi I could tell he was holding something about himself back and I’ve been keeping an eye on that.”

“We know Kordi is different, he’s smart but he’s done nothing bad.”

“Yes, this can’t be Kordi’s fault.”

“There are people born with great talent or special abilities every now and then, I have heard about a few of them. Some become great heroes or people who spark great progress. However, there are also many of them who had been lost from being alienated. I am certain Kordi has the same potential to become any of those.”

Mr and Ms Blann are both quiet, they must have also felt that Kordi was being targeted because of his differences. Even that young boy Fergus is avoiding Kordi, saying aloud that Kordi is weird. Kordi did not appear disturbed by that and I assumed his interactions with myself and other adults was enough. Yet, loneliness is something one can experience even in a crowd.

“I am certain Kordi has great potential he will show us, I have seen the kind of texts he reads and the work he has done. Those clay liquor bottles are made with earth magic not a four year old’s hands which speaks well of his talent with magic. After this attack, Kordi even told me he was afraid of what he could have done to those boys.”

Carrie’s eyes began to well up, I do not know if she is proud of worried, likely both.

“I know of few people with power who can restrain themselves out of fear of what they will do to others. This is a trait that should be encouraged.” I add.

“What can we do?” Berdic replies.

“I will take Kordi as an apprentice, I will pick him up every couple of days and work close to him. I want to teach him healing, he can learn to help with magic and he will not be afraid of himself.”

“That won’t solve the problem with those attackers.” Berdic adds.

“Yes, they are also young and do not understand the weight of their actions. I am wary that being too harsh in punishment will cause deep resentment. My idea is that no one can justify their hate towards someone who devotes themselves to healing others so, I will focus my efforts there.”

Mr and Ms Blann both nod, the mood is gloomy but that is expected. The Blanns tried to include their son into the community but he has trouble relating with those his own age. In fact, he is much more at place around adults than other children. When people ask me about Kordi I will tell them of that. Kordic will become more accepted by his peers as his peers age and they learn to value his ability.