------ Kordic Arc Chapter 16 ------

I find Leni standing outside where she usually does her personal exercises, the heavy rain begins to break and the clouds pull apart. Neither of us have to worry about being soaked from training outside today. Leni reacts as she notices me approach, her arm rises up to cover her nose, squinting at me from above her arm.

Come on now, I should not stink that bad anymore. In fact, I worked on some incense recipes that Morgana uses. Bur Berry bushes are a fragrant option, when the wood smokes it produces a slightly sweet smell that usually is used for smoking fish and meat.

I use a lot of it with some other spices and I now smell like a chunk of freshly smoked meat… It would normally make me feel hungry if I was not soaked in it every day. I could use some ground pine needles to provide a different scent so that I do not get sick of the same smell. However, I sleep in a room that doubles as a workshop for producing pine wax paper. I am also tired of pine smells.

There is also the pine needle tea, I have drank so much of this tea over the past twenty days, the smell and taste are lost on me now. Sure, it is good to drink the pine tea to avoid sore gums caused by eating a lot of grain porridge over the winter; however, my work with Morgana has introduced me to alternatives like finer herbs boiled with dried berry rinds! This is a taste above bitter pine tea, Morgana had a nice selection of these alternative ingredients.

Though, it should be said, with emphasis on past tense, that she had a nice selection. Many people also come to her for tea mixes, including the monastery’s ranked masters. This leaves me to scrounge what is left over, fortunately Morgana has a big stock of the basic herb blend that includes the grincer herb. The blend on its own is not much better than pine needles, so I have to go out and find ingredients for flavour.

While lost in thought, Leni has the same guarded expression that everyone has when approaching Morgana’s workshop, she is cautious of an unseen waft of air carrying a scent that will burn out the hair of one’s nostrils.

My nose hairs are all intact, though I have felt that they would fall out from the potent sting of fumes I have to work with inside of Morgana’s workshop. While many of these are a “hot” sensation there are also “cold” sensations that can give a similar kind of burning feeling. Morgana actually uses these cooling ingredients to counteract some of the powerful smells’ burning effect.

So, with this knowledge I am now able to combat that horrible gagging reflex from happening while I work with the many putrid and burning smells. This has helped my image with Leni, her guard is up even though she is not driven to gag from my presence anymore. It is continued trauma left from the first time she got a blast of my odor…

“Have you been out for a run today?” I ask feeling stiff from working inside Morgana’s workshop a few days in a row.

Today is the first day I feel alright to go for a run. While I stretch my arms and back to work the stiffness out Leni mumbles something in unfamiliar words. Her hands fidget with the wooden practice sword she holds.

“No… I rather work on training sword if you are not here to heal pain,” she finally replies while struggling to speak ordumirt.

“I’m not your painkiller,” I retort feeling discontent.

She glares back at me.

What? If I do not heal your muscles you cannot train as much? Sure, I can understand that; however, it is still lazy to not push oneself to their limit. I have been doing that with Morgana’s work between grinding ingredients, hauling jars, and using up my mana to stir and feed mahr.

Driving myself like that has made me better with that work. Leni follows up her glare by raising her practice sword at me but I do not feel scared. If it comes to a fight I will probably lose, there should be no reason I would win if I have only been doing workshop labour.

“Let’s see if you can even catch me!” I still gloat.

With a quick second thought it seems cocky of me to say that but, I would rather challenge her to a race than a fight.

Discarding her practice sword Leni starts charging at me!

I begin to turn before I realize the building is behind me! I cannot run that way.

With a step to the side I dodge her arm and make my way past her running to the woods. Tension built up as I catch a glimpse of her expression when her grab misses, a look of seriousness covers her face. I did not think someone could be that serious about a game of chasing and catching!

She recovers and dashes after me, I have a bit of distance gained from avoiding her charge. My legs adjust to the pace of my run as the rhythm of my heart picks up, I can feel it pounding through my head. That feeling of adrenaline begins to work itself through my body numbing any stiffness I had.

Cool air rushes past my face and through my hair making me feel energized. However, a chill rises along the back of my neck. With a glance over my shoulder I find a violet-red fury beneath waving ash brown hair, the sight of a furious Leni!

I turn back, pushing myself onward, I cannot keep at this pace without being caught!

Go go go! Focusing on each leg I need to draw out more power. For a moment I had forgotten to strengthen my muscles with mana, Leni has no doubt been doing that to gain on me.

With the surge of power through my legs each step accelerates me forward, the path through the woods is not straight and I need to avoid hitting a tree or its branches. The pine needles scratch against my face as I weave through a path.

My footing needs to be perfect as well, the amount of force I can push into the ground can break it up underneath my feet. I aim for where solid tree roots become exposed, stepping against them to give me more traction.

I feel a noose of dread draw tighter.

My legs cannot push any harder, I would slip and lose my standing if I did.

The feeling is so close now she must only be a step or two away!

The burning in my legs has become so intense already. Strengthening my legs pushes them to their limit, I have to catch my breath and slow down. No! If I do that I will be caught for sure. Keep pushing!

The pain feels like it will erupt, my head grows heavy, and my sight darkens. I need to hold my breath as I tighten my torso, squeezing every bit of power with my last breath.

The threat behind me is so close! Maybe a hair’s length or less.

I have to breathe! No, not yet! Go go!

My lips are sealed, I will not let any air in or out. I feel my cheeks swell as air begins to slowly vent from my nose.

“BWAH!”

The sudden noise startles me!

I exhale, my limit reached.

I slow down and my momentum almost trips my feet, staggering my stance as I gasp for air. Something felt off about that, I didn’t gasp that early.

Over my shoulder I see Leni has fallen back to only a few steps away, her body is hunched over as she breathes heavily. While turned to face her I keep taking slow steps back as she takes steps forward.

“Cyla!” she vents, heavily inhaling and exhaling, “Almost!”

Her eyes look up at me with a flustered face, she is frustrated and tired while I feel a sense of relief. I just managed to outlast her endurance! Now we face each other down while taking repeated deep breaths.

When our breathing slows down enough to speak Leni asks, “You didn’t cheat?”

She expresses doubt to me. “How?!” I reply feeling a little frustration by her accusation.

Her face turns away for a moment before she shrugs.

I do have some confidence in my legs; however, from our running exercises before she never was able to keep pace with me. I comment, “Didn’t know you were that fast.”

“Wha-!” her reaction is a little startled, “That is… I train to fight with speed and close in. Not to go so far.” Her awkward dialect is worsened by her breathing.

But, I suppose she never trained for long sprints like that. It certainly startled me to see that she is good at boosting her speed so much.

“As well… you are fast, that is frustrating,” Leni mumbles. “The hunters are faster too.”

“Oh yeah, I think I saw you with some of them while trading forage.”

“Yeah… I have no teacher.”

If someone does want to have more than what is rationed for their basic scholarship they can either study under a teacher who provides extra or they have to provide more for themselves. Making wax paper is what my roommate does and I guess Leni has grouped up with hunters to forage.

Maybe I should join them one day, there are some ingredients that Morgana wants but the hunters do not go out of their way for. There is just not enough of a reason for them to gather these ingredients. I recall Morgana complaining that wisp hair is one such ingredient. Thin and semi transparent threads that are light and brittle, they appear like a spider’s thread but break down quickly.

By itself the thread is not useful but for Morgana she finds that it holds some mara miasma. This is the ingredient she usually adds to introduce the mara miasma for cultivation. Though I do not know a good way to gather them, they seem to appear after a lot of mara activity like a heavy fog for example. Having more threads is useful since the miasma will weaken and fade during the fermentation.

While I think this over I notice Morgana’s workshop is actually pretty close by. I can see it through the brush. Signs of spring are showing as the bushes begin to bud while the cold air warms a little more each day.

“Morgana’s workshop is nearby. I’ll be heading that way now, you can come if you want to have a bite or a drink,” I offer.

“No.” Her reply is instant, she follows up as her words began to fluster, “I… I am good. There are things I should... do.”

I doubt she does but she is probably worried about the kind of concoctions that would be offered to a guest at a witch’s workshop.

“Well… thanks for the run,” I reply. Thanking her for chasing me around is a little odd now that I think about it. It was a good way to work out the stress in my joints.

Leni flinches at my words, “Yeah,” she replies before running off.

When she moves far enough I notice her stop to find her bearings before turning to properly approach the monastery. This awkward feeling still lingers, but I do not have any others near my age who would speak with me. I think my first impression of being soaked in the odour of Cangral has warded off anyone from coming close.

I make my way to the workshop, there will be something to do there so I will not feel bored. My body is hot from running and I take it slow to cool off in the morning air. There will certainly be more work to do in the workshop, even if Morgana is not there right now. The time I have spent there has made me familiar with different tasks I can do to keep occupied.

When I open the door a familiar blend of smells greets me. It is a dull air rich in pungent fumes that make even my now hardened senses cringe. In contrast, the air behind me is clean and crisp, tempting me to stay outside.

I catch sight of a clay vase on the nearby table and recall that the previous day Morgana and I had prepared some ingredients to deliver to the elder Edrich, one of the Lord Mayors of the monastery.

“I’ll do that then,” I say to myself, in order to stay outside longer.

The clay jar is only a small container we filled with various herbs and spices. This mixture is a common request by others in the monastery because Morgana knows how to best process and cure her ingredients. They would prefer that she kept to the kind of palette that their tastes would agree on and not venture into her foul experiments.

This jar is filled with pinch and grincer herbs for boosting one’s energy. There are a few other spices mixed in small amounts to add more robust flavours; however, the key ingredient that produces the most effect is a byproduct of Morgana’s Mahr catalyst experiments.

By using the oil extract of a cave fungus known as cliff scale, which normally produces a laxative effect, and mixing it with the Mahr miasma before catalysing it the oil loses the laxative effect. Testing this was a little intimidating since the normal oil did not work on bucktooth rodents that we usually test on. I was concerned I would have been running for the bushes or a bucket; however, Morgana assured me that it would not be poison because the bucktooth rodent was affected in some way that was not harmful.

The new effect caused awakeness, as defined by Morgana. There is a feeling of greater awareness of one’s surroundings and sleeping is not possible until the effect runs out. Therefore, if we combine this catalysed cliff scale oil with energizing herbs and spices it will make a very great potion of stamina and awakeness.

Edrich is going to be Morgana’s first customer for this, he usually orders some energizing potion ingredients before mixing them into a potion himself. He does this because two of the ingredients need to be fresh and people usually don’t share them if they can get their hands on some.

The first is fresh blood. Edrich does not actually hunt or get the blood himself; however, he is a major in lore which is a rank high enough that he has priority on requesting certain amenities. He pays well for fresh blood from hunters along with the other ingredient, bulim milk.

bulim females produce milk for their calves and there are periods when a bulim has milk without a calf to feed. bulim owners will usually syphon some milk for themselves as it is very nutritious.

Morgana is pretty envious about the other potion brewers buying up all the milk so they can make potions taste better. Many who drink it also mix it with blood to add more nutrition to it, it is also a status of success or a way to show off to guests to provide blood milk.

Honestly, it seems pretty weird to me. My father did save blood from his kills and would use it in preparing food, mostly I recall the blood being mixed into a mush of ground meat, organs, cooked grain, and herbs. This mush was then stuffed into cleaned intestines, cooked, then dried.

I never ate much of it since most of these sausages were traded away along with fur hides. So, I have only been able to assume that a lot of extra ingredients would have to be used to cover for the metallic taste of the blood, like herbs and spices.

Arriving at the usual place Edrich may be found, the lore library, I slowly push the door open with my shoulder while still holding the jar in both hands. It is warm inside this room of moderate size, many rooms have begun to avoid using their fireplaces as winter thaws away. I can guess that Edrich is sensitive to the cold in his old age.

The library here is in a small room; however, there are many shelves and cases storing books, scrolls, and tablets. Such an amount I have never seen before.

Edrich sits on a chair near the warm glow of a fire, the coals glow bright and illuminate much of the room.

“Hm?” Edrich looks over his shoulder, his greying beard brushes against the fur of his coat, “You are? Ah, Morgana’s new pupil.”

“Kordic,” I reply, this would be the second time I have spoken with Edrich.

“Right. I see you managed to find a teacher quickly, though it is a difficult time to find available instructors.” He nods, scratching his beard, “I assume that is?”

I hold out the jar in my arms, “Pinch, grincer herb... among other things.”

“Ha ha,” He slowly chuckles, “She can never resist adding something different. It has always been effective regardless of the strangeness.”

“Her methods are not popular.”

“It would be why she has room to be a teacher for you. Though Morgana’s standards for students is high, being her regular student would be certainly special,” Edrich comments before he groans a bit. His body leans forward and he stands from his cushioned seat.

“Witchcraft has garnered a poor name as us Mirts settle down, our farms grow crops that fill our bellies, and much of the variety I had known has become scarce. Instead of having to search wide for whatever food can be scavenged we can grow more in a small patch of land.” He begins to pace towards the one table not covered in books.

On this table are some jars of clay with a shallow and wide bowl.

“Place the jar here,” he gestures to me.

As I slide my jar of herbal paste onto the table Edrich points to a similar jar that is empty, “You may bring that one back, it is finished.”

I nod as he begins to talk again.

“You came at a good time, I had just ran out this morning. The spices were different in the last jar as well, it was most invigorating.” He turns over towards his cushion again, “Sometimes I remember flavours I had known from my youth, like cider bark.”

“Ah, that is pretty difficult to make right,” I add.

Edrich sits into his cushion seat again. “Oh yes, the trees must be of a certain age before the bark is peeled. The moist layer on the inside is removed and fermented to make it more digestible and developing the flavour.”

My head quickly goes through some of the plants that can be used in a similar way, some plants will not digest well even after the process. I recall Morgana explaining that the sap must have some sort of sweetness to it; however, that alone is not always enough.

“Wasn’t it important to also pick some trees which had livic moss growing against the bark?” I ask.

“I… Maybe?” Edrich comments after a short pause, he chuckles after and continues to say, “It was always something of a special talent for the herbalists to spot those kind of details.”

I can understand that statement well, there always seems to be minor details in everything Morgana has taught me. Fortunately I have been keeping some wax paper for myself in order to take notes.

“Say, if you have a moment take a seat. This aging Mirt can impart some tales and history upon you. Though, it is mostly to keep myself entertained!” He chuckles again. “The topic has my mind filled with old memories.”

I take him up on his offer and sit down into some soft fur cushions on the floor.

“Now, is there anything in particular you wish hear of?”

“Hmm… You were talking about farming, there was a little bit of that where I grew up but it always seemed a little off,” I say, speaking of something that occasionally comes to my attention but never really bothered me.

“Aha! This is a very interesting topic, one that I never get asked!” Edrich smiles, leaning in to stoke the fireplace with a long stick.

“Our Mirt heritage began as tribal nomads. The earliest stories are tales of scaling vast frigid mountains and the endless cold of the north. So, when our ancestors arrived in Valdera it was almost paradise.” He shifts his position to relax his back more, “The valleys were filled with a wide variety of forage and plenty of woods to hunt game. However, there were the Koblins to deal with in those woods hunting the wildlife. We naturally became enemies competing over hunting ground. Koblins are comparable hunters and warriors in their physical ability, although most Mirts would not admit to such a thing, they take pride in our eventual victory over the Koblins. I believe it is important to set that pride aside to closer study what gave our ancestors an advantage.”

“That is more of your specialty then?” I ask.

“Yes, I study these details to pursue the closer truth of the matter. You see, the Mirts had two advantages. The one most commonly spoken about is archery. Koblins only used spears and stone slings at that time, so when the Mirts arrived with bow and arrow the range that the Mirts could fight at was greater. This forced the Koblins to close the distance and fight where they had comparable weaponry with stone spears and clubs.”

“What about bronze?” I quickly ask, knowing there should have been some around.

“Natural bronze was available and certainly used by the Mirts of this time; however, without larger forges they could only process small amounts for arrowheads and spear points. Not enough for proper armour or shields.”

“Ah,” I nod.

“This is where the second advantage comes in, the Koblins did not domesticate animals. They had access to fur, leather, and even the light wool of the wild Mulon. Yet, the Koblins are hunters and their minds could not think of other things like raising an animal. Meanwhile, the Mirts had arrived with domesticated bulims. When you have a domesticated animal like that it is possible to harvest wool throughout its life, rather than only at its life’s end.”

“Mmm, okay,” I nod again.

“So, the Mirts had plenty of thick wool to cover themselves against attacks from the Koblins allowing our ancestors to route the Koblins from the rich and temperate lands.”

“And then the goblins?”

“Yes, the mountain dwelling goblins,” He adjusts himself on his chair before rubbing the side of his head, “They proved to be more of an adversary for the old Mirt tribes. The goblins built great works of masonry that would sprout from the mouths of deep caves. Their underground lives taught them to grow the strange plants under ground and to live alongside the large spiders that produce their silks. This is where we learned of agriculture.”

“From the goblins?” My eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Right. Some goblins had expanded onto the surface where they were trying to cultivate surface plants. We simply stole that, some mirts could see the use for selectively growing these plants instead of foraging them in the wild. We learned to give to the spirits of the land so their blessings strengthen the crops.”

“Stealing… huh.” I find the idea ironic considering how barbaric the savage goblins are.

“He he. Most of those who I tell this to scoff at this idea, their pride prevents them from accepting it. But I will tell you it is true, the first kingdom of Ordumar was built on the ruins of a goblin settlement that cultivated the grains we grow to this day!” Edrich exclaims, patting his thigh, he continues to say, “Others would trade for the seeds so they could establish their own farms in distant lands and in time new generations of farmers were growing better breeds of grain.”

“We also grow vegetables and herbs now,” I point out.

Edrich nods. “Correct, many tribes had foraged a wide variety of plants, herbs, and fruits. Selecting the best of these and growing them became a more convenient way to keep food and medicine close by.”

With a low grumble, Edrich clears his throat for a moment. He looks over the books and quilted canvas around the room before continuing, “I do enjoy this topic, many of my students always ask me to tell the tales of heroes and armies. However, I believe its importance is less of an explanation for our overall success. What made the Ordumar kingdom succeed was its production and trade. Now the kridimirt kings are progressing ahead in agriculture while the Sharamirts are better traders.”

“What happened to Ordumar anyway?” I ask knowing little about this topic even though I hear so much of the old kingdom.

“I know little about the details… it just collapsed one year as many of the Mirts who lived in the valley just packed up and left. The one thing we do know is that the Orclins of the north attacked and dealt enough of a blow to the King’s army that the people’s confidence in the kingdom broke. So they fled.” He finishes with a deep breath through his nose.

“Just like that?” It seems pretty quick to me.

“Yes. We ordumirts are still prideful of our nomadic roots, the idea of calling one place home was too new to expect much loyalty. Now there are some mirts who have rarely left the region they were born in.”

“That may have been me,” I respond.

There was a point I remember while brewing alcohol that I thought I would do that for the rest of my life. By learning healing magic I ended up being pulled away from that future.

“Hmn! I think that it is a good thing you were able to move out,” Edrich nods.

It has been hard though.

“The trials of our life build the character we become. I do respect how the heroes before us drove themselves through the challenges of their lives to achieve their greatness even though I favour speaking about other points of history,” he chuckles.

“So why did we end up forming new kingdoms like Condrica or Corrin?”

“Ah!” Edrich smiles at my question. “Maybe the prestige of reviving the kingdom inspired Ordumar’s companions like Edrin Condric to try his hand at the title. It certainly helped that Edrin mounted many successful attacks and defenses against invaders, because of that his rule had earned more trust.”

“It is hard for me to see that I live under some king,” I shrug.

“Well, that part is something the kridimirts like to push. Their nobility feel their bloodlines are greater when they trace their descendancy from heroes. Many of whom claim ancestry from a hero born from a great spirit, or the hero gained the blood of dragons that is passed on through his line,” Edrich answers, he leans in towards the fireplace to stoke it some more with a long stick.

“How would someone get dragon blood?” I ask, pondering the method needed to drain blood into another body… without it clotting. Maybe dragon blood is weird like that? Though if it was easy to do more people would do it, so it is either incredibly difficult, rare, or made up. I would cynically say it is made up.

“He he,” Edrich chuckles again. “I’ve not the knowledge about how it may have happened; however, the Kingdoms of Elben and Estrusca both claim descendancy from the Dragon King Aldan Eudenko who was legendary for his skill in hunting dragons. The legend was that he bathed in enough drak blood that his body became immortal.”

“So, is he still alive?”

“No.” He smiles, raising his eyebrows. “His elder brother, Yurkin Eudera stabbed Aldan through the eye with an arrow killing Aldan. Their fight was sparked by the younger Aldan trying to seduce Yurkin’s wife, Aldan thought himself impervious to harm but Yurkin rightly realised that Aldan bathed himself in dragon blood with his eyes closed.”

I frown from the idea but I guess it makes sense. “Aldan’s eyelids were only affected and not his eyes?”

“Right.”

“An arrow to the eye would hurt even if the eyelid was closed,” I comment.

“Haha, it would.”

“So, why does Yurkin have a different family name then?”

“Ah, well Yurkin changed his name after killing his brother as penance for his act. However, his wife was the daughter of the powerful chief of Euda and she inherited the title. Later their son claimed the title as King of Eudera. Aldan’s three sons established their kingdoms of Elben, Elden, and Estrus: Elden’s line would later inherit Elben’s lands.”

I frown again trying to juggle the similar names.

Noticing this, Edrich changes his tone. “Anyway. These kridimirt kingdoms all share access to the Vala Sea and hold long histories fighting each other over a wide range of reasons. Their lineage is long and over generations they have built up their nobility. Such inspirations have spread into Condrica. These nobles fashion themselves apart from others creating a gap between most mirts.”

“It still sounds weird that someone would fashion themselves as part spirit or something,” I comment.

I have not seen spirits manifested, most of what is told about spirits and deities is that they are immaterial. Or at least they materialize within nature, maybe the claim is based on spirits materializing within a mirt’s body?

Dragon blood could be interesting to ask Morgana about, it seems rare and something that would be too expensive to purchase.

“Well,” Edrich begins to respond before pausing to clear his throat, “the kridimirts hold a more narrow range of greater spirits they recognise and respect. If a kridimirt tells an ordumirt they were born blessed by a spirit, to the kridimirt that means a powerful and far reaching being has his back. To the ordumirt, one may have a bath in a fresh meadow one morning, receiving blessing from a local meadow spirit. Such a thing as a blessing would not hold as much meaning to the ordumirt.”

He raises his arms up to stretch before continuing, “Anyway, it is a hot topic to discuss among ordumirts who dislike the growing influence of the kridimirt ways within Condrica.”

“I can account for that.” My head nods in return as I recall my reason for coming here and overhearing the comments among the ordumirt.

“It has been pleasant speaking with you Kordic, when you have the time to speak more feel free to visit,” Edrich nods with a smile.

“Ah yes, I should get back to Morgana’s workshop. I took this errand to pass some time until she returned from whatever she was doing,” I reply, rising to my feet.

“Hn,” he nods again before rising up slowly, “I shall also return to my duties.”

Edrich mostly earns his billets through selling books on history. He copies the pages from written sources that he either purchases or he writes himself. While I take my leave I look over my shoulder into the warm room he has for a study. Edrich is sorting out some tools and containers, likely to prepare that blood milk potion I brought some ingredients for.

When I return from my visit with Edrich to Morgana’s workshop, I find Jhor Kernan sitting outside on a log bench underneath the overhang. I have never seen him at the workshop before, only at the lecture room whenever get time to go there.

“Ah, there you are,” he says, his tone is a little groggy.

Jhor stands onto his feet and rubs his shoulder before yawning.

“Morg wanted to lend you to me for the day,” he shrugs.

“Lend?” What a weird way to say it.

“Yeah, the lake is thawed enough to start fishing again and she wants us to get fish scales for her salves.”

“Oh,” I reply while remembering Morgana had mentioned different ingredients for making pastes. I had almost forgotten it since we had not made any with fish scales during my stay. It would make a lot of sense since the lake had been frozen for most of my stay.

Jhor begins to walk ahead, I quickly drop the empty jar from Edrich beside the workshop door and run up behind Jhor.

“I’ve… never fished though,” I mention to him.

“Hm? Oh well. I only have the one pole, you can help net and carry them,” he replies in a mellow tone.

Jhor does not say anything more as we walk through the woods near the monastery along a dirt path. The winds have been changing as the cold air in the mountains are warmed by the warmer winds from the south. I can feel the moisture from the lake breathe its way between the woods.

After reaching the edge of the forest, the view opens up over the large lake, an inland fjord fills the valley. The two of us begin to walk along the water’s edge now risen up to the treeline because of the melting snow flowing down from the mountains.

The lake looks brown during the spring as soil washes down from the fresh river floods.

“I guess it is safer to fish the lake instead of the river,” I comment.

“It isn’t a great time to fish anyway, most of the trouche arn’t in season yet,” Jhor sighs.

“Trouche?”

“Oh. That’s the kind of fish most like to catch, they have a very nice pink meat that tastes great. But, that is only during the summer so we should release ‘em if we catch any too young.”

“What is in season for us to catch then?”

“Well… spring crag are a good choice but… they have shells. Crags arn’t fish. We’ll have to try and pull out some grouge suckers. They live right along the bottom and stay pretty big all year around.”

“Okay.”

“But grouge meat tastes like bitter dirt.” Jhor’s eyes flinch as if he recalls the taste.

Ahead I see rows of wooden boats lined along the raised shore, tied to trees. These boats are thin with a curved bottom made from carved planks of wood. The front of the boat tapers to a point which makes it look like it should slide through the water.

Jhor steps up the shoreline to where one of the boats is tied to a tree and undoes the rope keeping one of the boats from washing away.

“That one yours?” I ask, looking over the hull.

“Yeah, marked it there.” He points to a carving inside the hull which is a combination of initials and what looks like a wing. “Hop in.”

I climb inside as Jhor slides the boat down the short shoreline, my hands grip the edges of the hull as it wobbles left and right along the keel. The boat rocks on its sides more as Jhor pushes the boat into the water completely.

With a sudden jump, Jhor pulls himself over the boat’s hull to climb inside, the sudden shift in weight and force of his climbing nearly flips the boat. My hands are gripping against the side of the boat tightly as the beating of my heart begins to echo in my chest.

“Its pretty cold in there, don’t fall in,” Jhor says to me while setting down into the boat, the rocking calms down as well. “Oh, can you swim?”

“Uh… I’ve been in shallow rivers?” I answer, unsure if it is a good reply.

“Well.” He pauses to pick up a long wooden paddle. “Don’t fall in.”

I certainly do not feel comfortable with that advice but he begins to paddle the boat away from the shore. With two strokes on each side the speed of the boat picks up, he changes the side he paddles on to keep the boat moving straight since favouring one side will turn the boat to that side.

Jhor looks over his shoulder as we move further around the shore, a group of people were only a little distance from where the boats were.

“This should be fun to watch… too bad they’ll scare the fish.”

I lean over to take a look and notice some things floating in the water, they are long and rounded. Most likely logs floating in the water, but why?

Faintly I hear someone speak up as Jhor rows the boat around the spot with logs. One of the people lined up steps forward to the shore’s edge, he takes off his long wool coat only leaving a light pair of pants on. His body and feet are uncovered, is he going to jump in?

I notice he leans in and readies his stance, aiming towards a log floating in the water. That log is pretty far from the shore, a normal jump would never make it.

In a quick blur he vanishes leaving a short cloud of sand were his feet stood.

My eyes quickly catch sight of him as his nearly-instant jump brings him to the log, his feet connect with the log.

SLAP! His face connects against the lake’s surface, almost immediately after he touched the log his feet clung to it; however, the log rolled causing his body to land flat against the surface.

“Heh.” Jhor chuckles as he looks over his shoulder.

The crowd along the shoreline cheer and applaud the attempt as the jumper brings himself back to the surface, his moans are clearly heard. It must have hurt, the sharp slap of the water would have been felt by his whole body and face.

While I survey the crowd to see who will try next I spot Leni, her arms tightly hold her coat. It is cool outside right now and I bet it is very cold for anyone who falls in the lake right now. She does not seem to like how cool the weather is.

When Leni steps ahead to take her turn she notices me in the boat, I feel a smile on my lips. With sarcasm I wish her good luck with a wave of my arm. Do not slip, it will be cold!

In reaction her face sours and her arms tighten more around her coat. The group on the shoreline have moved their attention to her since it is probably her turn to jump.

Yeah, go for it! I eagerly wait.

Leni tries to compose herself by looking away and drops her coat revealing a very light one piece gown. I guess light fabric would be best to wear if you would like it to dry quickly compared to heavy wool. I doubt anyone there would be doing this without any clothes on, the last guy who jumped with only pants on is shivering on the shore after climbing out of the water.

While Leni readies her stance I try to imagine what they are actually doing, I know how to use magic to boost the strength of my muscles. What they are doing is something else though, it seems to be acceleration of some kind. That black armoured goblin flashes to mind, his explosive speed nearly killed me. I recall that while feeling the scratch on my face that remains as a thin scar.

I had forgotten about it and did not heal it well enough because it is hard to see my own face.

My eyes focus on her feet as some bits of sand gently rise up before she suddenly vanishes from that spot kicking up more sand. I glance over to the drifting logs where she appears, her stance is low as her feet make contact with a log.

Her feet made contact at a steep angle, hitting the log along the water line. The force of her landing knocks the log to the side raising a small wave, its roll slowly raises her above the log.

She leans back to try and stop herself from falling over the other side; however, her face becomes tense as the log continues to roll over. Her arms wave back as she arches her shoulders to the limit.

SLAP!

I catch sight of her expression just before and it looked like her eyes were wider than I had ever seen! Her landing was not as hard as the last guy.

The next person to try walks to the shoreline as Leni quickly swims to shore, her wet hair bobbing as she paddles to shore.

SKIP SKIP SLAP!

Wow! The next to try manages to touch the log with his feet but he did not stop his momentum at all. The result is like a flat stone skipping over the surface, he ended up curling inward while skipping along his shoulder and back until he slowed down enough to finally splash into the lake.

Jhor begins to paddle again, I suppose we should not linger for too long if we are going to want to catch some fish. I take note of what is in the boat, a thin pole with a string for catching the fish along with a bucket and string net is all I can see.

There is a bag Jhor brought with him that probably has some more items to use.

THUD!

The boat suddenly surges to the side, nearly capsizing from a huge impact!

The rushing sound of water crashes against the boat and splashes against my face, I see a figure crouched against the edge of the boat just behind Jhor. He leans forward as the boat rocks back into his side.

“Hi.” He says in an overly cheery voice.

His body rocks against the boat, calming the violent rocking from the sudden impact. I see him twist his body and reposition his feet before a quick surge of magic propels him away. He lands onto the shore where the crowd laugh and applaud.

“What a fucking shit.” Jhor spit.

Our boat settles down as it spins around a few times before Jhor uses his oar to steer the boat back on course.

“Just showin’ off he is.” Jhor mumbles, throwing the weight of his anger into each stroke of the oar.

I had tensed up a lot while the boat was nearly capsizing, that sudden landing on our boat was at least successful. Others who are trying to land on a log were failing. Maybe it is easier to land on a boat? The log would roll over unless someone had perfect balance.

When I reflect on how fast they are moving I cannot help but ponder why Leni did not do that kind of speed to catch me before?

“Ah! Is it safer to practice over water?” I ask aloud.

“Yeah?” Jhor replies to my sudden question. “Well… They train like that to keep themselves from tripping on their landing, if they mess up they can break bones on hard ground.”

I nod, his answer makes sense.

“Have you tried?” I ask, having not tried that kind of near-instant jumping.

“No, there is a lot more to it and you’d need a good teacher. I doubt their teacher is here or else that dumb idiot wouldn't have shown off on our boat.”

I look over to the shore again as Leni quickly joins up with the line again while shivering, everyone is picking up their pace and making more jump attempts. I bet they are going faster to keep warm. Jhor continues to paddle our boat away as the sound of splashing becomes more distant.

“This spot should be good to begin trolling,” Jhor begins to say while passing me the long fishing pole. “I will attach a hook and some bait, hold it.”

Reaching into his bag Jhor pulls out a thin bone hook, there is a fine barb sharpened near the hook’s point. Opposite of the hook end is a tiny hole carved through the wider end that he carefully pushes the rod’s string though.

I inspect the rod in my hands, the wider end I hold onto has some wrapping around it to help improve my grip. Further up the rod as it narrows I see bronze rings that fit into carved notches along the rod, each ring is a little smaller to match the narrowing rod’s width.

The rings have another larger ring fused against the smaller ring. The smaller ring holds tightly into the rod’s grooves while the larger ring is bent to be an oval shape that protrudes from one spot that a thin string is run through.

Upon a closer look the string is finely braided from silk strands.

“You braided this?” I ask.

“Yeah, it is something I do on slow days,” Jhor answers while he tightens his careful knot on the hook.

“Then you’ve done a lot of fishing before?”

“I lived on the other side of the shore, Carran territory. So yeah, I’ve fished this lake a lot,” Jhor continues to answer while focusing on attaching some mushy substance to the hook.

“I’ve never seen a rod like this before, is it useful?”

“No, not really…” He says bluntly, his hand reaches forward, gesturing to pass him the rod. “Though it depends on what we are trying to catch.”

“Oh, so the grouges are a better choice for this rod?” I ask while Jhor takes the rod while holding out the line to keep it from tangling.

“Yeah…” Jhor replies while dropping the hook into the water. “Nets are a better choice if you want to catch enough for a living, but you need to wait for the fish to be in season so they are plentiful enough.”

“Grouge are bottom feeders that a net cannot reach, I need to drop a line low enough and bait them to bite the hook,” he continues to answer.

“That mushy stuff is bait then?”

Jhor nods. “Mixing algae with some other ingredients to make it smell more.”

“Ah, did you pick up anything useful from Morgana when making bait?”

“... she was pretty keen on me testing out some ingredients,” Jhor replies, giving a blank stare off to the shoreline. “Various rotten things that took days to wash out.”

“How many trials actually chased the fish away?”

“A few,” he says, the sight of a slight smile begins to take form.

We both become quiet as the gentle rocking of the boat drifts along the water. I relax a little more while looking up at the cloudy sky and a cool wind blows across my face.

Jhor’s rod suddenly bends, dipping down as the line is pulled on. Jumping to attention, Jhor grips the rod tightly, his left hand’s fingers release the grip on the line as his right hand pulls the line through the ring holes. He closes his left hand over the line as he grabs further up the rod with his right hand.

This coordinated motion gradually draws the line up through the water. I can hear his breath match the motions as he draws the line in. The line struggles in a sluggish way to the left of Jhor’s position.

“Get your water magic ready along with the net,” Jhor orders in a calm voice.

I look into the boat to where there is a small net inside of the wood bucket. I pick it up and begin to untangle it so that I can figure out how to grab a fish with this.

“Maybe it won’t fit in that,” Jhor replies while taking a deep breath out.

He pulls on the rod causing the boat to slide and spin slightly.

“Here it comes,” he groans, leaning back.

I look over the edge, careful to keep my weight from tipping the boat over as whatever is on the line seems to almost roll the boat over. In the murky water I cannot see anything.

“Hmph!” Jhor grunts, taking another pull on the rod.

Then I spot the water bulge for a second just out of arm's reach.

“Can’t see it!?” He grunts again.

“No,” I reply, scanning the water where I saw the bulge.

I track the line which must mark where the fish should be, I feel tense from the pressure as Jhor continues to try and draw the fish in. However, the weight of it seems to be too much as the line slips out from Jhor’s grip if he tries to pull more line in.

Reacting to the first option I think of I splash my left hand into the cold water. I begin feeling through the water by projecting my mana through the murkiness I cannot see through. Immediately I find my mana is unable to reach an area where the braided line points to as if the mana is bent away.

“Oh! Hrrng… it does not like that!” Jhor moans as he fights the fish pulling his line.

I track the area of the water which bends my mana as it tries to move away from my focus. Its movements are restricted by Jhor’s actions while I begin to encapsulate the water around the bending area.

By doing so I begin to draw the water up…

Oh wow! This is not going to be easy. The weight of the area I lift is far heavier than I am used to, if this was just water there would be no issue.

I begin to take deeper breaths as I push myself to release more mana into controlling the water. The fish that must be inside is struggling to leave the area, if not for Jhor’s efforts to control it the fish would just slip out. I have never felt something like that before, as if the fish can just ignore my manipulation of the water around it.

I focus on lifting the water beneath the fish which is very difficult as the sensation of the fish does not feel like it exists. It does not feel like the fish ignores the water, rather my control over the water is either lost on contact or my control is bent around the fish.

So, the only action that feels like it works is if I push the water up with enough momentum that the water continues to move up after I lose control. Gradually the fish rises to the surface.

“Good! Shit, that net isn’t going to work!” Jhor says, raising his voice as he pulls the rod in tight to his chest.

The boat slides up against the fish which sluggishly tries to move.

“Right… See if you can push it up more on three,” Jhor orders while bracing his feet against the side of the boat.

I am already focusing my effort on keeping this fish on the surface, I can push it up more; however, the water breaks off to the side as my magic if bent away. So I will only be able to push it up for a moment if I vent as much mana as I can.

“One.” Jhor begins to count as he pulls with his whole body, the boat rolls until the rim nearly touches the water.

As he relaxes his stance, the boat settles.

“Two.” He repeats his pull again, rolling the boat and drawing the fish close to the rim.

I begin to notice the size of this fish…

“THREE!” he shouts, heaving all of his effort into this pull.

I throw everything I can muster into flowing water up to lift the fish as high as possible. Water splashes against my face and I feel water rushing into the bottom of the boat. What looks like the head of the fish is pulled onto the rim of the boat as water flows in.

In a desperate move I take the net I have been holding in my right hand and quickly wrap it over the flapping tail of the fish. With this hold I lean back and haul the tail end over the flooding rim of the boat.

With a heavy flop the boat settles back as water sloshes around inside the boat.

“AHHH!” Jhor shouts in relief, falling into a sitting position.

With this fish in the boat I really understand its size, it is almost as long as I am tall. The girth of this fish takes up half the girth of the boat.

FLAP!

Cold water slaps my face!

Oy!

FLAP!

I try to move away but there is not enough room to get away from the flapping tail of this big slimy fish. With my grip over the net I attempt to hold its tail down.

This does not work so well, only agitating the fish to struggle and flap more.

Jhor reaches into his bag and pulls out a thin knife of bronze which he drives into the fish’s skull. Its motions subside considerably, but it does not seem dead as the fish continues to try and breathe. The mouth gapes open and closed slowly wide enough that I could fit my head in there.

“Huuu… that wasn’t too bad,” Jhor sighs.

“That wasn’t bad?” I frown.

“Yeah… at that size I’d have expected us to have to drag it back to shore,” he answers with a low chuckle.

“So, what’s the point of using magic?” I ask, slumping into the wet boat.

My vision almost grows faint as I feel my mana is very drained.

“Containment?” he sort of answers. “Well… it is a good way to hold the fish for the net. Our net just wasn’t big enough.”

“Oh…” I answer, my initial expectation was to just lift the fish out of the water with ease. This was not that easy.

“Well… unless you are a good water mage or have a contracted water spirit I wouldn’t expect much,” Jhor replies, prying the oar free from under the fish.

“This is a grouge then?”

“Yup.”

“Will this be enough scales?”

“Yeah, she’ll like the slime too.”

“Ah…” I rub my fingers which are covered in a very viscous slime, maybe this has something to do with that magic bending effect? It certainly feels weird when I run mana through it. “It smells bad too.”

“Even better,” he adds in a sarcastic tone before continuing to row the boat back to the shore.

I shift in my seat as the water inside the boat has soaked its way up my legs which makes the rough wooden seat irritate my legs. The problem I begin to foresee is how we are going to get this huge fish out of the boat. In order to hold it I needed a net to help grip it, maybe we will have to remove the scales first?

When the boat touches the shore I hop out of the boat along with Jhor, splashing into the shallow water. I am wet anyway and my legs were getting cramped in the boat. Jhor walks over to a tree where he finds some driftwood piled in the bush. He looks through the pile of wood to find one that is straight enough, its bark peeled and the wood looks smooth.

“Grab a gill,” Jhor says while returning to the boat.

The limp body of the grouge needs to be rolled a bit in order for me to grab the gills. I feel some sharpness inside as I work my fingers in. With his right hand Jhor grabs the mouth to lift up the fish’s head, water sloshes around as we try to lean into the boat to hold the fish up. He inserts the stick through the gill I am holding open and guides it through the opposite gill that he can see from inside the mouth.

Once done, he grabs one end and gestures me to take the other.

“Hup.” Jhor rests the stick over his shoulder and I attempt the same.

He is taller than me so the fish angles down on my end, the fish tail slaps my knees as Jhor walks ahead. I am wet, stiff, and this slimy smelly fish has slid down the stick to rub against my face! What an annoying job this has turned into.

The only fishes I knew before this were small river ones that are smaller than an arm, not a lot of food on them but as a meal they had been a treat. This grouge is certainly not a treat, with such a bad smell I can only imagine how poor it would taste. Of course the whole point of this is to get scales and slime. Maybe the rest of the fish will be used in the soil compost?

Morgana had shared some knowledge with me about methods to make soils more rich by using plant material, bones, and even feces to mix into the soil. Much like some of her other experiments she would use soil instead of water to contain the ingredients. One of the advantages of using soil is that worms and insects can be added that convert the ingredients into something else.

Most of her attempts just result in increasing soil fertility; however, some mana rich ingredients can feed more mana to a plant or fungus that grows from the soil, improving or changing the properties of the plant or fungus. The amount of time and space needed for this is pretty long and is difficult to do in larger scales.

I can see us using the remains of this grouge to fertilize some plants that Morgana has been planning to begin growing this spring. Her method of preparation involves planting the seeds within pots of soil that are stored inside her workshop so the soil does not freeze.

The small buds can grow safely until a better growing climate comes in a few days from now. This is similar to how my mother established some of the more sensitive plants she grew back home; however, Morgana experiments on changing the soil to change the plant’s properties.

So far, her most successful crop is a mushroom known as a yakletop that is very common to find. The yakletop is edible and a good food choice, Morgana found that it is very susceptible to taking on new properties depending on what it grows on. So, she mixes various herbs and ingredients to give the mushroom additional effects like greater mana recovery, injury regeneration, and resistances.

These mushrooms can be ground up and used in potions, which is such a popular ingredient she never has any on hand. This product turns out to be one of the only reasons she does not go broke from her crazy experiments each year. I never see any around because they sell so fast and they do not grow during the winter when I had arrived.

So, Morgana has some of us students helping to set up the farming zone for these. While Jhor and I make our way through the woods towards Morgana’s workshop we begin to pass by stacks of logs, piled into short squares. The mushroom spores can be spread onto these wet logs where they should take root and grow.

However, unlike how everyone else does this, Morgana actually soaks her logs in a composted paste. There are thin grooves carved into the logs which the paste of herbs and other ingredients are spread over. During the winter the mixture softens and works its way inside the log that the mushrooms will feed from and the tree canopy of the areas we stacked these logs help prevent the crop from drying with little maintenance.

Of course there are a few experiments mixed in with the standard log production. Some logs are hollowed out more so that the wood chips can be mixed with the compost for mushrooms to grow on allowing for a more concentrated mixture to be used. Though I hesitate to discover the kind of effect it would have knowing of the ridiculous ingredients we used in these experiments.

According to Morgana, there are natural catalysts unlike the one we developed by mixing Mahr with mana minerals in compost. Natural catalysts only work with specific ingredients or ingredients of similar effect. If I recall the combination of cliff scale oil is mixed with blanche berry seed oil catalyze to make a detoxicating oil. Both oils normally are stomach toxins. The cliff scale oil we used for Edrich’s blood milk mixture actually has its laxative effect change through the odd salt we produced from the mara and mineral reaction into a type of stimulant.

Morgana has been enthusiastic with studying the difference between the natural catalysts and this Mahr mana salt catalyst. Natural catalysts at least follow a trend of causing effects related to their nature, stomach effects still focus on stomachs while the Mahr salt may result in wild changes. Sometimes we do not even know what the effect is or if it sometimes removes an effect entirely.

I snap out of my deep thoughts as Jhor comes to a stop, I begin to feel the soggy slime soaking my clothes again. What a nuisance it is that Jhor stopped, or are we there now? I peek to the left to find Morgana’s workshop only a few steps ahead.

Great! Where to we ditch this fish?

Jhor takes a few more steps to the side before he lowers the branch from his shoulder to place on a bench beside the workshop wall. Finally the weight of the grouge shifts off of my body as it slides onto the bench. Jhor grabs my end and pulls the branch out of the fish’s gills before laying the tail along the bench.

The workshop door opens and Morgana pokes her head out to see us. Her eyes light up when she finds the big fish on the bench. “Wow~ Good boy Jhory!~”

Jhor cringes when he hears that.

Morgana’s attention turns to me as her eyes light up when looking upon my coat dripping in fish slime… Fine, I will try to save the slime in a jar. I duck under her arm to get into the workshop when I hear her taking a sniff of the aroma, it smells like mud at first but I suppose she can pick up on the traces of other elements.

Wait! Why am I noticing these details as well?

I stuff my wool coat into a big pot with a loud slop before wrestling my soggy pants off. I feel annoyed about this and take the frustration out on squeezing the wet slime out of the fabric of my clothing.

It would be much easier if my water magic would work properly on it, having to wring out the slime by hand is very difficult. Hopefully I will not have to find new clothes but maybe that would be a good idea considering how much the coat and clothes have gone through.

Impressive durability of the bulim wool make it so I have never had to stitch holes in the thick fabric. Compared with fur and leather the thick wool holds itself together very well, old leather is often stitched together all over the surface which is hard to hide and makes the clothing appear patched together.

Edrich’s talk earlier about the bulim wool being an important piece of equipment for Mirts when fighting the koblins comes to mind and I feel a little bad about having to replace it. However, I could find some other use for it. A blanket? No, it stinks pretty badly, not that I can really smell that.

The reaction from others when I pass nearby tells me enough about how this coat smells. I wash at least once a day and wash the coat daily as well, which has strained the fabric, strands poke out from all over the wool even though it all holds together very well. I must look quite fluffy but also ragged.

Right, I will get a new coat. In order to not ruin the new one I should keep this old one for the smelly and slimy jobs. While this coat dries I will search the monastery market to see if someone can sell a wool coat, it may take a while or I may have to get one made.

After leaving the workshop I find Jhor over to my right, he is scraping the scales with a knife over a wide bronze pan. Morgana hovers over his shoulders and supervises closely, her humming is probably annoying Jhor but he persists and tries to focus on his task.

Good luck! I will be back… maybe. If it gets dark by the time I am done then I won’t be back today! I send my thoughts without a word, casually slipping away into the woods between the workshop and the monastery. Without the large wool coat on the feeling of the air helps bring me to my senses stuffed from spending time being in Morgana’s workshop.

First I make my way to my room and dig out my stash of billets I have under a short wood stand. At first I did not leave my billets alone in case someone would sneak in and steal them; however, after hearing some advice to set up items that would be disturbed if the billet stash was tampered with I came up with an idea.

My billet bag is inside a bag of toxic mushrooms, delvonshroom to be exact! Everyone knows it is a very toxic mushroom and can even cause problems like numbness just from touching its oily surface.

These delvonshrooms have actually had their toxic extract pressed out making them safe to touch, Morgana and I had been using these for some of our tests as well. I soaked these in water and rubbed them with some melted fat to make these detoxicated mushroom appear fresh and deadly.

I have a few other bags of ingredients stored in the room so it is not going to stand out and I highly doubt someone would risk rummaging through what appears to be fresh delvonshrooms. Even if they had gloves on there is a risk the vapor will cause serious problems.

No one touches my stuff! I nod with pride in myself.

With the bag of billets in hand I exit my room and make my way through the dorm hall and pass Glacia Pinefollow, the dorm’s prefect.

“Ah!” she jumps slightly after I passed by.

I look over my shoulder, she seems a little off guard than usual.

“Sorry! I did not intend to be weird,” she says with a relieved expression, which is already weird if she is sorry about it. “It has just been a while and I’ve been busy!”

Glacia looks away for a moment before looking back, “Well… I’ve gotta go!”

Her enthusiasm is odd and she quickly paces away down the hall. It has been a while since she last spoke to me, when I think about it now she usually greets everyone out of habit while passing by.

I honestly do understand why I had become exempt for her habit, I begin to dread how I became so used to it. The smell that radiates from that wool coat! I never thought it had been that bad since I became used to the growing strength of its presence every day. It does not surprise me that everyone would keep their distance or in Glacia’s case, she developed a reflex to cover her face after passing by.

I cannot apologize since she has already raced down the hallway and turned around a corner. Back to what I intended to do I continue along to leave the dorm area and enter into the main monastery hall. The market area could be a good place to start if I wanted a fur coat; however, I have never seen finished wool clothing being sold. They sell the wool and other materials that can be used to make clothing.

Without any experience making clothing I know that my first attempt would be poor. Maybe one of the people there would know someone who can tailor a coat?

There is a small crowd gathered around a door along the hallway, while approaching the sound of a passionate lecture from inside the room. From my position I cannot see inside until some of the people standing around the door begin to separate.

I catch sight of a bearded man waving his arms and pacing around in front of a crowd of people inside the room… I turn away and keep walking. That energetic man is Edrich. The same Edrich who spends most of the day slouched on cushions while rambling in a low voice.

The crowd must be gathered to see the old man wildly ranting about the heritage of wool or something and I really want to move on to buying a new coat today.

“Excuse me?” I hear over my shoulder.

The one who came through the crowd just now is Jolin Escroll, one of the three monastery masters. I only know him since the other two actually left to accompany those who left for Calbin and he is approaching me.

He hesitates to approach me for a moment before letting out a breath of relief and closing the distance.

“I would like to talk with you for a moment, come along,” he says as he walks alongside me.

Maybe I should have taken my old wool coat with me, it would have likely repelled him away. Or would this be a good thing? Jolin is not in a foul mood, I should not be in trouble. Or am I becoming so reclusive that I do not want to talk with people?

Morgana! Her influence is rubbing off on me, I know she avoids people deliberately in order to spend more time on her work. Reflecting on my daily activity I end up content to spend a lot of time in my own thoughts… Just like right now!

“You might not believe it but Edrich is only a year or two older than I,” Jolin chuckles breaking my train of thought, thank you. He continues on, “I think a lack of interest in his area of study with the students had drained him of his vitality so, it is a pleasant surprise to see him so enthusiastic.”

Oh, I this is going to be about the potion. I eye Jolin’s posture and he does look to be in a pleasant mood while speaking on this subject.

“When I stopped the man midst his enthused lecture to ask about his change of vigor he declared that it is something Morgana’s new student delivered him.” Jolin turns to face me with a smile on his lips.

I nod and keep my expression relaxed, I should consider why he came to me. Is he after the recipe for the pinch herb mix we gave Edrich for his blood milk drink?

Jolin expresses surprise briefly before calmly asking, “I would like to introduce you to some of the workshops under my care, since you have been new here it would be a good experience to learn and expand your knowledge. We are an open place for sharing our knowledge with each other, even Morgana has agreed to this.”

“Is Morgana’s workshop under your care too?” I ask.

“...” Jolin pauses for a moment and smirked to himself. “I do not believe any of us masters want responsibility over her work, I am also fine without knowing what it is that was put into Edrich’s drink.”

“Then?”

“Ah! I am not out to take the recipe,” He replies waving his hand before rubbing the back of his head. “Honestly, it has been too difficult to approach you.”

“Oh yeah, I am trying to get a new wool coat that I can wear outside of the workshop,” I declare knowing the strength of repellant that coat provides.

“I know a great tailor then,” he smiles and gestures me along.

Good thing I left my people-repellant coat behind!

“But first, shall I show you to the workshop? Many of the members come by to produce their potions since we often acquire and store some of the more sought after ingredients.”

“Oh right. Morgana likes to talk about making alternatives to the different ingredients often used by others,” I nod.

“I would even say she is more… abrasive about her opinion of my collaborators and I when she speaks to us.” Jolin smiles uncomfortably.

“She is honest,” I add.

“Ha haa...”

Shortly along the way down the hall Jolin turns to a door leading down stone stairs, dark and unlight. There is a tray which may hold a candle mounted on the wall half-way down the stairs and without a candle only the windows light part of the way down. Jolin opens the door at the darkened bottom which lets out warm candle light into the dimly light room.

While I look around I notice that there are very few candles in fact, most of the trays have pieces of glowing charcoal. Deeper inside the room is a main fireplace that is mostly fueled by these coals so, I can assume they take some of the coals out to add light? That would save wax and wick.

“Apologies for the darkness here; however, some of the brewers believe the sunlight damages their work. This is mostly where we store our work with a few of the spots designated for work, there is a darker room connected over there which is kept cool.” Jolin points over to the right where a wooden door is closed tight.

“You will have to talk with a senior member to access the cellar ingredients, we store a lot of our limited and restricted ingredients there. For junior members they need to work with a senior to use restricted ingredients and our workshops here we will teach you about these ingredients.”

Well, that sounds restrictive and Morgana’s position on finding alternatives makes more sense. The shelves and tables have a variety of jars and boxes with tools stored in boxes and hanging on hooks mounted to pillars and walls. From the smell of the dark room I can detect a few ingredients like dried herbs, there is nothing fresh or foul going on.

“Is something wrong?” Jolin asks, he looks at me with some concern.

“Um… I was looking and... smelling,” I reply with a slight shrug.

Jolin pauses for a moment before he comes to an answer. “Oh, we do not rely on the methods of rot.”

“So, you don’t ferment your potions?”

“No no, the use of rot is questionable and many are not fond of ingesting them. While Morgana is the best witch of rot I know, amateur attempts tend to go bad. Here we use more reliable and effective processes to make our medicine and potions.” Jolin points to some of the jars and follows along to some of the barrels on the other side of the wall.

“Here we have our potion barrels stored. Though now most of the barrels are empty, the only ones remaining are the barrels of ichor and other liquid ingredients.”

Along this wall I can find traces of where barrels were stored, there is a frame to allow barrels to stack on their sides to store up to three barrels high. The barrels that remain have some nozzles attached to the lid which has a simple screw that is bored into the nozzle. I can guess the screw is used to open and close the nozzle so the barrels can be emptied while on the wall.

Upon a closer look at the walls and pillars I can see mold filled cracks in the stone and deep rooted mold on the wood. Based on the smell and appearance of the wood I get a sense that the wood is exposed to a lot of humidity, something the mold would thrive in. Scraping marks strongly suggest that the stone and wood is cleaned with an abrasive tool which would be wise to prevent the mold from producing too many spores.

I look around to find a collection of metal pots stacked onto each other.

“There must be a lot of boiling ingredients involved here,” I comment, gesturing to the stack.

“Certainly, we are short on the bones and herbs right now or else many of these pots would not be in storage here. During the winter in particular we would set these pots up in different places where fires are already set and not down here with the poor circulation. The resulting broth and ichor is common in our potions here,” Jolin answers as we walk past the metal pots.

He gestures to some wooden crates, I have to stand on my toes to look in and find a pile of blanched bones of various shapes and sizes.

“These spent bones will be crushed and spread into fields to return strength to the soil. Some of the local farmers have good results from the crushed bone, I believe they mentioned the plants would root into the soil with greater strength.” Jolin pauses for a moment looking into the bins. “We do not often supply the farmers because they are cautious about over-dusting their fields with monster bones.”

“These are all monster bones?”

“Yes, that is the only source of ichor for our potions, it is the base we most often use, similar to bogvile extract. Mahr or monster, same thing really when it comes to their ichor.”

I pause for a moment, by mahr and monster I am not entirely sure of his meaning as the mara I see traces of are faint and almost ethereal. I have not seen any living but their remains are delicate and fine so, would there be bones as well?

I glance into the bin again and mostly find the kind of bones I would expect from an adult with some small animal sized bones mixed in. The shape of the bones suggests they are the larger arm, leg, and rib sized bones while the skulls may be the scattered bits of flatter pieces suggesting the skulls are crushed to store easier.

“Are there mara bones in here?”

“Uhm, well that depends on who you ask, some say monster, some say mahr. Not all monsters produce ichor and the use of monster is often for a creature that is hostile. Mara is also used by some in the same way others use monster; however, more often a mahr is considered more magical and can produce ichor.”

“So, these are mara bones then?”

“Yes… if we want to stick to separate words for producing ichor or not,” Jolin responds with an awkward smile.

I continue past the bins of mara bones glancing back for a moment more confused than before.

“Well, is there anything else you would like me to answer?” Jolin asks as we reach the end of the barrel storage wall.

“Actually… I should get back to getting a coat made...” I respond looking back to Jolin.

“Right, I said I know a good tailor. We’ll head there now.”

We make our way back up the stairs again where the air freshens and we escape the stale and moldy storage workshop.