Chapter 146: Journey 4

Excerpt from the book “Energies of the world” By Rosalie

Vitality, stamina, body energy, how fundamental it is. Mana powers the mind, stamina powers the body. You cannot live without both. Some experiments have proven theoretically if someone is born within an absence of mana, it is possible to live without it. Yet, that seems like far too cruel a fate for anyone.

Vitality is rarely manipulated, being generated in small quantities within our bodies. The reason no one uses this energy is because of how weak it is. You simply do not produce enough to do anything meaningful.

If you were to, in theory, collect the blood of hundreds of creatures and or people. You could then extract the vitality and concentrate it; you could then use it effectively.

That is not considering the moral issues and the illegal issues. Doesn’t stop some people, so here is how you can protect against blood mages.

Having enjoyed my conversation with the blacksmith, I return to the carriage. Quickly finding out I am the first back. Shrugging, I sit on the step that lets you get into the carriage, allowing me some comfort while reading.

Enjoying one of the books I have been meaning to read for a while. Lost in my own world, I don’t realize I have been approached. Feeling a light tap on my shoulder, I look up.

Standing before me is the same man from earlier.

With a wave of his hand and a half bow, he speaks. “Hello, good to see you again. Might I ask where you are heading?”

“The capital, we are heading to the capital.”

He laughs in a fake-sounding way, deeper with heavy breathing. “What a coincidence, so are we. Might we join you on the route?”

Pondering whether I should allow him, I realize that I am unintentionally judging him. “I don’t see why not. All I ask is you are fair and respectful to us.”

“A fair and respectable request, we shall do so.” He then promptly sits his ass down next to me. “What might you be reading?”

“A fantasy novel, one I have been meaning to read for some time.”

“Interesting, a popular choice of reading material. Might I recommend you a fantastic fantasy novel I have come across?”

“Fire away.”

He takes a deep breath, speaking in an informative tone. “A song of ice, thunder, and fire; an exceptional novel written by the world-famous dragon researcher – Hana. She truly has a way with words, using her research to write a story founded in reality.”

“Sounds interesting; where might I find it?” I enquire, finding the idea intriguing.

“You will find no issue in finding within the capital.”

“Thank you for the recommendation; I will strongly consider it.”

“Anyway, I should head back to my carriage; when are you leaving?” He says as he gets up.

“Likely in an hour or so.”

“Got it.”

Well, that was surprisingly pleasant. For some reason, I thought rich and noble were synonymous with stuck-up with a dash of arrogance.

Not long after the conversation, I spot Jengal. His arms are encumbered with a wide variety of bags, shouting over to him, “Jengal, what are you carrying?!”

“Snacks!”

When he gets closer, I see the massive amount of snacks he has bought. “Dude, what are you? A human or a dumpster?”

He checks his arm, poking it. “Human, I think?”

“I wasn’t being serious; you just eat a lot.”

He checks his stomach, “still thin, I have room for snacks.”

“you know what, I can’t argue with that.” Shrugging at him.

“When is your mother getting back?” I enquire; while he carefully packs away his snacks. Sneaking a few bits of honey candy into his pocket for later.

“Don’t count on the 2 hours; she always loses track of time at the spa.”

“Next town, I will go with her. I could use a spa day.”

“And how are they going to deal with your unique body?” He says with a raised eyebrow.

“I will pay them extra; they can figure it out. It is their job, after all.” Flaring out my arms.

“I might come with you just to see the masseuse's expression.” He says with a bright smile.

“When are you changing your genetics anyway?” Leaning on the carriage.

“Haven’t decided yet.” He says, idly tapping on the carriage.

“No rush, I might even find better components to add to it.”

“Better than night vision, water breathing, superior health?”

“I still need to track down some ocelots for the speed boost, as well as using my dragon skin samples.”

“You seriously scraped the dragon?” He says, exasperated.

“Hell yeah, I did. Not letting materials go to waste.”

“You are crazy.”

“You mistake confidence for crazy.”

“Keep believing that, buddy.” He says, consoling me with a shoulder pat.

We both laugh, enjoying the moment.

We ended up waiting there for over an hour, waiting for his mother. She finally returned, carrying a few bags.

“What's that?” I enquire.

“Shopping, I’m making dinner tonight.”

“I don’t mind,” I state simply.

“I do; can’t have you hosting us and making dinner, we are not rude.”

“Well, I appreciate not having extra work. “

And with that, we are off. Golden carriage on our heel as we disappear into the countryside.

“Why are they following us?” Jengal asks openly.

“They asked if they could join us on the trip; I didn’t see why not.”

His mother brings her hands to her chin, “curios. I do hope it is simply a benign request.”

“So do I; having my trust abused makes me mad.”

“You and everyone else. The only thing not strange about you.”

I scoff, “what is it with people calling me strange!”

“Cause you are.”

Sitting back in my chair, sulking for the rest of the day. When we finally come to a stop, I set down my home. The golden carriage stops as well, parking next to us. When I placed my home, the exited; surprise evident.

The woman speaks this time, “that is a beautiful tower; are you a wizard?”

“I am a little bit of everything,” I say with a smile.

“Can we join you within?” The man asks.

I think on it for a moment; “no, sorry.”

“Okay, sorry for asking.” He states simply.

Feeling a little bad, “Tell you what, I will do you one better.” Stepping to the side, I whip out my builder's wand. Erecting a brick castle-like structure in record time, complete with a decrepit oak tree out front.

As much as the outside screams haunted, the inside is warm spruce floors with carpets and beautiful rooms.

“Is this for us?” They both ask, slightly out of the sink.

“Yep, enjoy. Sorry, it was a little quick.”

“No problem.” The man says.

“By the way, what should I call you?”

“My name is John Hunter, and this is my wife, Joan Hunter.”

“Sorry for the late introductions; my name is Aeternum.” Shaking his hand.

“Surname?”

“I don’t like my surname, so I don’t use it.” Which caused him to crease his brows. Probably the most honest I’ve been with my surname with anyone.

“I see, curios.” He says, walking towards his castle. “We shall explore our temporary abode; thank you for its creation.”

“Any time.”

Heading into our own temporary home, Jengals mother disappears into the kitchen with great speed. Abuzz with energy as she hums a tune. Jengal mumbles, “I hate when she gets like this.”

“Like what?” I enquire.

“Like that,” pointing towards the kitchen. She is running around like it’s a time trial. “When she doesn’t cook for a while, she acts like she hasn’t cooked in months. As much as I love her, it is stranger than you.”

I just shrug in response.

Once she is done cooking, a tray of seasoned vegetables along with sliced meats appears before us. The food is pretty good, lot’s of salt, though.

“How is it? Do you like it? Sorry, I haven’t cooked for a while. Is it too salty?”

And now I know what Jengal meant. “Calm down and eat; it is fine.”

I manage to get through the dinner while his mother bombarded me with questions about her food.

When all is said and done, we retire to bed. Having had a tiresome day, we opted not to play any games tonight.

Moments after closing my eyes, I hear movement. Cocking one eye open, I see a lean and slender shadow in my room. Holding my Polynesia charm in hand, I am privy to the being's words. “Ya gonna sleep all day ya endstone. Get up; I found this damned good place dat serves the best steamed Bluestem.”

“Hi, Paul.”

“Yeah, yeah, hi, let’s go. Ya gonna sit there all day? We got food to eat, sights to see, and people to annoy.”

“You get 2 hours of my time,” I state flatly.

“Boring,” he complains. “Fine, just dinner then.”

Getting up, I grasp him and teleport to the end. Better save him the charges.

“Wow, not a charge off ma back; ya rich or somet? Wait, never mind, keep doing it.”

He guides me through the streets; along more upstanding roads. Well lit, with normal non-shady looking, people. A far better sign than the dodgy spots he brought me to previously.

We come to an endstone brick building adorned with a purple sign. Walking inside, I see a tavern-like interior; wooden stools with a bar at the end. The drinks have a variety of liquids swirling inside, from crystal clear to a starry black. Shivering at the memory of that booze he gave me. Sitting down, he summons a waiter, the first fat enderman I’ve ever seen.

The portly man waddles over, “What can I get ya?” he asks.

Paul, without missing a beat, “Bluestem, 2 portions.”

“Is that all?”

“Yeah.” And he waddles away.

Turning to Paul, “I have never seen a fat enderman.”

“For good reason, we don’t normally live long enough to get fat.” He says with a bright smile/

“How long do you guys generally live?”

“Depending on dat footprint we talked bout. Don’t teleport, you could live hundreds… Teleport a lot? Week at best, poor Merril.” He says with a sigh; before returning to his jovial attitude.

“I got another question, why do enderman attack when we look you guys in the eye?”

He just laughs loudly. “Cause it funny. We asked how we antagonize da humans without ya know, being evil. Make em run shitless if they make eye contact, dats how. Well, it used to be a formal deathmatch challenge. Now? Running gag.”

“I see, are enderman just assholes then?”

He shrugs, “Nah, we just funny.”

“Why do all enderman do it?”

“Well, only da formal, ya know, rich, go to da overworld. They consider it a deathmatch, while we poorer, save it for special occasions. May as well make it a fun trip. Someone opt not to, but ya know, generally? Ya, do it.”

“So, this whole time I have avoided eye contact; I could have actually looked at you.”

“Absolutely.” He says, laughing even harder.

Soon enough, a bright blue stemmed plant, shredded into a small pile of fibers our on a plate. Placed in front of us before the waiter disappears.

“So… How do you eat it?” I ask Paul.

“With ya mouth ya Chorus stem.”

Rolling my eyes, I opt to watch Paul. He curls it up like spaghetti before eating it. Doing the same, I take a bite. Immediately wondering why he thinks it is good. Place my fork down; I look at Paul. “This tastes like flavorful soap.”

“Cool right!” As he blows bubbles with his now blue spit.

“Is it actually a type of soap?” I say in surprise, watching as he creates soap suds with his mouth.

“Well, we sometimes use it to clean our houses.”

I just plant my head on the table, damn it, Paul.