Chapter 168: Witching

Jengal and I spent far longer than either of us would admit, shearing sheep for clothes. Damned things ran away at the sight of us. Likely due to the most recent abduction from their home. Alas, we need wool, meats, and milk for quality of life. I suppose we could just exit the dream reality for a break, but where is the fun in that.

And so, here we are, currently chasing a black sheep with interest in parkour.

“Get your fluffy backside over here!” Jengal shouts for what must have been the 7th time. He tumbles to his knees, heaving for air. Shooting an angry glare in my direction.

Raising my arms in defense, “what?”

“Get over here and help me.” He demands between breaths.

“Already tried and failed. Don’t we already have enough wool from the others? Why are you so determined to shear this sheep?”

“Because it is the one that got away,” he says grimly, sitting back in frustration.

“It’s not that deep,” I say with a laugh.

“But, it is! The sheep are laughing at me, taunting me.” He stands up with renewed resolve.

Shaking my head at my over-dramatic friend. “Or they are barring because you attempted to catch them.”

“Just help me, will you!”

“Fine,” I say with an eye roll. Marching over, having no hopes of catching the nimble sheep.

With that, we wasted another half-hour chasing sheep. I think it was a half-hour; time doesn’t really function in the same way in the spirit dimension.

“I give up!” He shouts in defeat. Crumbling to his knees in a combination of shame and exhausted stamina.

“Finally,” I say, not winded in the slightest. Having only given a token effort for this waste of time.

“Much help you were; those wings must be for decoration.” He taunts, clearly having noticed my lack of interest in the task.

“You try using these things in close quarters. I’d sooner hurt you and or myself in the attempt.”

He begrudgingly shakes his head, walking over to the chicken pen.

“Think they laid any eggs?” I ask Jengal, in nieve hope.

“You would be a lucky fellow if they have. They have been here, what? 2 hours? Tops?” Hopping over the fence in a display of his inhuman agility.

“You never know; one might be backed up.”

He scoffs, checking the chest. His face quickly brightens, then drops. Mumbling under his breath, “lucky bastard.”

“My parents were both married, thank you,” I say, walking over and grabbing the two eggs from the chest. Quickly leaving the small storage area, heading towards the man-made jungle.

Jengal hastily follows, jogging to me. His previous exhaustion like a mirage in the desert.

“Not tired anymore?” I enquire, the ever-energetic fellow.

“Well, we doing magic now? Right?” He asks although he knows the answer.

“Yeah.” Choosing to humor him.

“There ya go.”

A smile dragging my mouth up, “well, let’s make some mutandis.”

He visibly perks up, without the slightest knowledge of what mutandis is.

Coming to the natural wonderland, known as my witchery area, finding it undisturbed. No monsters are good sometimes, smiling as I see a lack of gnawed branches, trodden earth, or broken bones around.

His eyes widen ever so slightly, darting around the different bits of greenery. “How you build these gardens so quickly, I don’t know.”

“Want to know the secret?” I tease.

“Yeah,” he naively asks.

“I use my hands,” bonking him on the head lightly.

He frowns, “prick.”

Having annoyed him, my joyful mood ever Increases.

Reaching the center of the small jungle, I find my witch’s oven. “Jengal, mind grabbing some of that lava?”

“Got it,” he says, walking towards the glowing trapdoor. Got to admit, it is a creative method to store lava, if very ineffective.

Personally, I head towards our furnaces, collecting a small mountain of iron. Gratefully stroking my golden bag and all its convenience.

Once I’m back, I craft iron blocks, iron bars, and buckets. Setting them aside and gathering some of the local glowing plants. They turn into Glowstone when broken down on a crafting table. Silently appreciating the spiritual dimension and its prosperous natural energies. Plants flourish in this place.

A few crafts later, and some Glowstone is within my grasp. Jengal soon arrives, hands holding the dangerous lava. Shaking my head at the blatant break of several laws of physics, given he is holding lava, in an iron bucket, without it either melting the bucket or setting like stone.

Pushing the idle thoughts out of my mind, I use the materials to craft some filters for my oven. I see no reason to waste precious gases when I have the means to avoid wasting them.

“Now, just a bit of clay, and we are ready to make the mutandis,” I say, clapping my hands in joy. One step closer to my goal.

“Is that really all that is left?” Jengal asks in suspicion.

“Technically, we have to smelt said clay, then use it to collect the gas of an oak sapling to make the mutandis.”

“There it is.” He complains, walking over to the ocean.

Rushing towards him, “don’t worry, let me.” Taking flight with my wings and flowing towards the ocean. Jengal would take far too long.

Within moments, the sandy shore is within sight. And with it, a clear deposit of clay, 3 meters below the water.

With haste, I collect the deposit and return to the jungle. Bright smile upon my face as I display my spoils. When Jengal comes into sight, I see him poking a random sapling. Opting not to disturb him and his ‘plant watching,’ I head towards the house. Making clay jars before smelting them.

With the storage implements complete, I return the witchery area, “Got them.”

Jengal perks up at my words, looking at the jars.

I take them and place them within the oven, explaining as I go through the process. “These jars collect the gases of burned saplings. Only saplings really work, given their robust vitality. The oak sapling produces exhale of the horned one, which is an ingredient for mutandis.”

Adding the ingredients before lighting the oven. “These implements here,” pointing at the filters, “aid in the collection of these gases.”

Seconds after the first sapling is burned, one of the clay jars shifts, the front taking on the embossment of a horn.

Jengals eyes are glued to the jar.

“Cool, hu?” I ask, enjoying his fervent gaze.

“Very.”

“What’s with your sudden interest in magic?” I ask, taking the ingredients over to the cauldron.

“Well,” he rubs the back of his head. “It seems really cool, and after seeing you do that circle magic, I thought it would be fun to do some too.”

A warm smile covers my face, “well, I am happy to oblige, as magic is wondrous.” He is very child-like in many ways. I suppose that is natural for a teenager. Even I, in my second decade of existence, display many child-like qualities.

Filling the cauldron with water, watching as it boils quickly. “Once the water comes to a boil, you add one mandrake root, exhale of the horned one, and an egg.” Doing as I just said, watching as the cauldron shifts to a radioactive green.

The once white steam starts circulating over the top, the water disappearing into the green smog. With a light pop, a couple mutandis drop down into the cauldron. “Tada,” I say with arms outstretched.

His face displays child-like joy. “Now, your turn.” Tossing him the ingredients, watching him flail, and an attempt to not drop the egg.

He shoots me an angry glare, walking towards the cauldron and standing in front of it. He goes through the process, smile brightening at each step. Once complete, he holds the mutandis like a child to his chest.

“Now, just rub it into some grass.”

He looks at me with an odd gaze but does it anyway. Face taking on a surprised expression as the grass shifts into a deep orange, shrinking and turning into a small patch of ember moss.

“Sweet, ember moss. One of the things we needed. Just use the next 5 and hope for some good fortune.”

After a mushroom, jungle sapling, and rose, we got a hawthorn sapling. The jungle sapling and hawthorn sapling being the only worthwhile gains. The final mutandis simply turned the grass into slightly greener grass.

Well, guess we need to wait for some more eggs.” Watching as Jengal’s face drops in sadness. It hurts my heart, but these things take patience.

“Let’s go see if Cassie is awake,” Jengal says, walking towards the house.

Shrugging, I guess he knows how to keep himself occupied. Following silently.

While walking, I often find myself walking slightly off, miss a step, or tumble because the autocorrect my armor had is gone. It’s strange, realizing you have become reliant on something to such a degree. I’ll definitely have to think about how much I use my armor. Even if dying sucks, I at least have the option of coming back.

Walking back to the house, a short walk. The witchery area only being 100 meters or so away. Walking in, we see a groggy Cassie munching on some red berries.

“Hungry, are we?” I say, walking up to her and giving her a hug.

Turning her gaze from the bowl of berries to me, “It’s called breakfast.” She comments in a tired voice. Grabbing another handful, gingerly eating them one by one.

“I’m gonna watch the grass grow,” Jengal says, clearly having been bored half to death with the conversation. He turns to leave, albeit at a slow pace.

“Why don’t we make something to eat.” Cassie and Jengals attention is now squarely on me. “Jengal, go hunt us some game. I will see about rounding up some vegetables. And, Cassie?”

“Yes?” She says, eyes drooping slightly.

“Go for a walk, wake up. Your drooling.”

She hastily wipes her mouth, walking out of the house. Jengal following behind, looking for some animals to eat.

Stepping outside, I spread my wings and head towards the forest. Quickly scouring the floor for ‘gardens.’ Those that previously provided me with vegetables. It was a relatively simple and easy task. Given they have already been harvested in the overworld, I knew where they were.

Slowly, my golden bag began to fill with vegetables. Making sure to take extra in the hopes of planting them. I’m unlikely to spend too much time in the spirit dimension, but food will make it better.

Heading home, I clear out a large area. Sowing it with a massive variety of seeds.

What wasn’t planted came home with me. Being brought into the kitchen. Jengal will likely be a little while, even if the animals have no survival instincts here. What should I make that takes prep time but is universally edible for all meals? Chips and salad.

Peeling and slicing the potatoes before sealing them in a buttered pan. Putting them inside the flame to cook slowly. Next, I take some lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber, coriander, mint, peppers, and a few chunks of apple—chopping and tossing them together.

While tossing the salad, Cassie walks back through the front door. The bags under her eyes have lightened considerably. “Hey, Cassie, you look much better.”

“Thanks.” She says with a smile. Sitting down on a nearby chair.

“Any salad until the meat gets here?” Offering her a small bowl of it.

She eyes the food, then me, then the food, sighing and accepting it. Eating it slowly with a fork from the table.

Sitting down with her and my own bowl. “A good stomach filler, if anything.” Munching on the salad. Regretting not having gotten salt.

“Suppose so,” she says, poking a tomato with her fork.

“It’s salad, not an evil creature,” I joke.

Cassie frowns in annoyance.

Finally, Jengal walks through the door.