Fire and Water
It happened quickly. The disciple behind Booker lunged for his back, fist raised. Booker felt the wind billow as Xan moved. With a single kick he launched himself forward and snatched the disciple by the collar of his robes, yanking him back like a mother cat lifts a kitten by the scruff of its neck.
But in turning to look at that, Booker had let down his guard. Before he had fully turned back to his opponent, a spasm of pain took his breathe away, a hard blow bending him inwards as Spider drove his knee up into Booker's gut. Spider's hand clawed at his shoulder, grabbing a loose ruff of his robe and using it as a lever to fling him against the wall.
There was no time to think. A blind roar of anger exploded out as he managed to drag a breath into his aching lungs. He flung himself straight at Spider's back in a drunken rush.
They collided, tumbled, and spilled across the ground.
Booker grabbed the nearest limb, a scrawny leg. He dragged Spider back as the older disciple kicked frantically, slamming the heel of his sandal awkwardly against Booker's cheek and jaw. It didn't help. Booker swung his legs over Spider's back, weighing him down. He grabbed at one of Spider's flailing arms and yanked it backwards, preparing to twist it to the breaking point.
Spider twisted beneath him with a surprising surge of strength, and Booker was sent tumbling aside. Spider tried to climb up through his tangled robes, and Booker clawed at the trailing hem, pulling himself up as he managed to kick off his sandals and use his bare toes to get a grip on the soft earth to push up from.
Booker rocketed up and threw his weight into Spider's back as his fist whipped around and around, landing hard right jabs into the dome of Spider's bald head.
In the background Xan had his opponent up against a pillar of the roof, and his arm was shoved up against the enemy's throat, pinning and choking him. A fist rammed into the disciple's belly with the regular action of a machine piston.
Spider staggered free of Booker's fists and spun around. He posed, squaring his feet out and knees down, fists rising.
Booker plunged after him and parried a hasty strike with the back of his arm. As he pushed the jab aside, he opened up a window for his back leg to lift up, coil back, and kick a straight spear motion into Spider's jaw.
It was a perfect impact. Spider's jaw snapped back and his lip was split open when Booker next saw his face. Blood flooded from his jarred teeth.
Amazed I can do that this drunk. Guess this body has a high tolerance for liquor…
Spider stumbled back, and suddenly snapped into a strange pose. His hands bent, wrists loose, arms posed like the claws of the mantis. It was so absurd Booker almost laughed– but instead he chose violence.
Booker lunged forward, following with a trio of quick lefts and then a right coming hooking in just as Spider began to adjust. There was no pretense of a fight anymore. Spider was turtling up, trying to huddle behind his guard. Booker wove in kicks to the right leg, trying to get his stance to fail and knock him over.
It worked. There was a sweet science to the takedown as Booker felt Spider's leg buckle and drove the collapse home with a hard right.
He dropped down on top of Spider's arms and began to slam the heel of his palm down into the man's face. It was no longer a fight. It was pure domination.
This guy's martial arts…
They're not like anything I've ever seen in the ring. They actually don't make sense. The stances, the blows, they're completely inefficient…
Is it because this martial art is designed for people who can cultivate? Maybe there are concerns other than mundane efficiency…
After the initial rush of anger faded, Booker found he was strangely calm. It was a state he only reached when he was forced to focus totally.
"Stop- stop!" Spider begged. Booker relented, slapping him instead.
"Give me what's mine." Booker demanded.
Spider whimpered, dropping the bag of pills. Booker swung himself off the man, snatched the bag, and marched towards the room. He was tucking the bag into his robe when Xan stepped into his path.
"Rain."
"Can this wait?" Booker asked.
"Why was Spider searching your room, Rain? What was he expecting to find?"
Damn it.
"You said you were done with the damn pills, Rain." Xan was furious, and too drunk to reason with. There was no time to lead him astray.
"I am done." Booker answered, trying to hold his ground. "Today. I'm done, as of today."
"Then give them here." He thrust out his hand.
Slowly taking the bag out of his robes, Booker tried desperately to think of a way out of giving up the key to his quest. At the last second, he poured the azure blue pills into the palm of his hand. Xan snorted furiously and snatched for them.
Booker stepped back, keeping hold of them for a second longer. "Rain–" Xan threatened.
Booker crushed them in the palm of his hand, and cast the blue dust to the ground. "There. It's done."
Xan nodded slowly. "Good. Rain, I only want what's best for you. You've–" His lips drew back, almost snarling. "You've really fucked yourself good, Rain. You really have. But there's still some climbing back out from this hole, if you'll just stop digging."
And he strode past Booker, still angry.
Booker spared no attention to the whimpering bodies of Spider and the other disciple. He stepped into his room, pushed the door shut, and let out as low sigh.
His room was torn apart. The compartments on the desk had been pulled out, his reed mattress turned over, the chest of clothes torn through. He leaned over his desk and shook his sleeve.
Azure blue pills tumbled out.
He'd managed to get away with only destroying three, and hiding four up his sleeve.
The book flipped open in his head, and the letters of the quest shone with golden light.
Quest Complete: Going Sober
Reward: Dialyze Function
The Dialyze function allows you to divide complex materials into their alchemical components.
That same golden light pushed out of the back of his left hand. A single complex rune appeared there, written out in light. As the light faded it became invisible, but Booker could still sense its presence. And with the appearance of the rune, he could sense he'd gained a new ability.
As soon as the light began to fade, a new quest appeared, scribbling itself across the page in a messy splatter of handwriting.
Quest: Deconstruction
Goal: Destroy the blue heaven pills with Dialyze and harvest the remains.
Reward: Furnace Function
He held his palm out over the pills, and thought, Dialyze.
Water gathered in the air. It formed drifting motes of reflective blue, collecting into spiral ribbons and then forming a rotating solid disk. The pills were immersed within, and as the disk turned, the pills were pulled apart into a collection of different-colored powders.
The disk vanished, leaving behind a neat pile of gray powder and a ball of amber resin.
"Incredible…" Booker whispered. It was the first time he'd actually used magic, and it left him feeling giddy with excitement.
Alchemical Ash Scrapings
Waste // Dull Quality
Ash from an alchemical furnace. Infused with violently incompatible medicines, rendering it an addictive poison.
Effects:
Moderately Addictive (-)
Toxicity 10% (-)
Toxicity and Potency 10% (+)
Hallucinations (+)
Whispering Pine Tar
Concentrate // Dull Quality
Tarry secretion from an ancient pine that has begun to dream of other worlds.
Effects:
Toxicity and Potency 10% (+)
Cultivation Boost 5% (+)
Hallucinations (+)
Allergic Reaction 10% (+)
He considered the two ingredients for a moment, trying to puzzle out properly what the symbols beside each effect meant. In the end he realized that they meant nothing alone; they were symbols explaining how they interacted when combined.
A (+) symbol meant the effect became active if you mixed it with another instance of the same effect, which also had to be (+).
(-) meant the opposite. It was active from the start, and to remove it, you had to match it with another instance of the same effect marked with the (-).
That was the only way that explained the combination of traits present in the blue heaven pills.
It also meant that he could throw away the ash scrapings. They had absolutely no good traits. If anything, the ashes were filler used to bulk out trash pills. Literally any other ingredient would have been more effective, but Booker assumed would also add a few pennies to the cost of these worthless things.
He swept the ashes into the pouch he'd carried the pills in, and turned his attention to the small bead of resin. This was the whispering pine tar. It only had (+) attributes, so if he was careful, he could activate the good ones while avoiding triggering any of the negatives.
Quest Complete: Deconstruction
Reward: Furnace Function
The Furnace function allows you to refine medicines out of ingredients.
As he examined the material remains of the dissolved pills, the book began to glow once more. This time the rune appeared on his right hand, shining brightly before fading away.
Furnace.
A flame emanated from his right palm. It was a pale blue swirl of fire, turning slowly in a wheel like a burning galaxy.
If Dialyze exists to divide things into their components.
Furnace must combine them.
But I need something to combine with the whispering pine tar…
Maybe from the garden?
By now, two more quests had appeared in the book to replace the one he'd completed.
Quest: Craftsman's Aptitude
Goal: Create 10 (0/10) useful medicines.
Reward: Materials Box.
Quest: Taste of Heaven
Goal: Create 5 (0/5) different useful pills.
Reward: Materials Box.
Seems like this book intends for me to stay busy.
He sighed, straightening up from his desk and going about his room to tidy up. There was a spot among the floorboards that had been pried up, presumably Rain's hiding spot for his pills. The best he could do was stomp down on the board until it was merely uneven and cover it with his mattress.
As he lay down, his arms folded behind his head, Booker waited. The hour was late and the clamor going on outside should subside now that the fighting was over. Strictly speaking, he was within his rights to take whatever he needed from the garden; it existed for the benefit of the disciples. But in practice, older disciples would frequently make trouble for their juniors.
It seemed that he was the lowest dog on this totem pole, if people were casually allowed to steal from him.
When everyone had gone back to bed Booker got up, left his room, and went silently out into the garden. As his eyes swept over herbs, flowers, and fragrant grasses, he allowed the book to flip through its pages, identifying each in turn.
Stringent Nettle
Intact // Dull Quality
An acidic grass that delivers an itching sting through its sharpened hairs. Must be cleaned thoroughly and peeled before it can be consumed; frequently prepared as a paste and used to toughen skin for martial arts practice.
Base Effect:
Skin Toughening (-)
Toxicity 10% (-)
Allergic Reaction (-)
Potency 10% (+)
Bloodred Drunkard's Vine
Intact // Dull Quality
This carnivorous vine lures small insects into the adhesive grip of its flowers using a scent like rotten meat. Humans prepare it for healing effect.
Base Effect:
Intoxication (-)
Rage Inducing (+)
Toxicity 10% (+)
Least Healing (-)
Crow's Eye Berries
Fruit // Dull Quality
Poisons within the seed of these small berries darken the eyes, causing blindness. An accompanying sense of rage and confusion often drives the eater to a blind death.
Base Effect:
Rage Inducing (+)
Toxicity 10% (+)
Adrenaline (+)
Blindness (-)
These really are trash plants. They're toxic, limited in effect, and loaded with bad properties. I wouldn't be surprised if the disciples mostly avoid them. Which means, nobody will cause trouble if I take these.
Five different useful pills…
Drawing his knife from his belt, he harvested what he could, and carefully used his robes to protect his hand from the stinging nettles as he cut them free from the earth. Overall it was a measly harvest, but Booker felt lucky just to have access to any ingredients at all; stealing from the busy alchemical workshop would be riskier, with both a greater chance of being caught and far worse consequences. In medieval Europe they'd cut off thief's hands; here they simply started with the neck.
Dumping the herbal medicines across his desk, Booker went and wrapped his hand in gauze, then brought out his knife and began to peel away the stinging outer layer of the nettles. Even the light green sap that oozed out was toxic; he was glad he'd taken precautions.
However, the book was expert in its advice. He didn't get a drop on him as he cut away the outer flesh.
And when he was done…
Stringent Nettle
Peeled // Dull Quality
An acidic grass that delivers an itching sting through its sharpened hairs. Must be cleaned thoroughly and peeled before it can be consumed; frequently prepared as a paste and used to toughen skin for martial arts practice.
Base Effect:
Skin Toughening (-)
Toxicity 10% (-)
Potency 10% (+)
When he was prepping ingredients for his master, Booker had noticed that he was actually cutting away properties of the medicinal plants. As he'd hoped, removing the outer layer of skin from the nettle had removed the worst trait with it.
And powders only have one trait, so if I can find a way to start making those, I can isolate the trait I want…
It was little wonder his master preferred to work with powders, then. You wouldn't get very many effects, but you would be precisely in control of which ones you got.
Next up he prepared the crow's eye berries by carefully removing the seeds. The delicate berries had to be torn apart in the process, so he used the flat of his blade and the palm of his hand to mash them into an even paste.
For the drunkard's vine, the intoxicant was in the flower's pistil and stamen. He carved them out with the point of his knife.
With his ingredients prepared, Booker tried the first combination that had come to mind. Tossing his components into a sturdy clay bowl and holding his right hand over them, he whispered,
"Furnace."
Stringent Nettle
x
Bloodred Drunkard's Vine
=
Stinging Balm Pill (Dull)
4% Potency // 7% Toxicity
Effect:
Toughens skin and closes wounds, but leaves a horrid itching that can only be endured.
As the fire poured over the components, they began to flake apart, dissolving into swirls of black within the rotating blue flame. Slowly those spiral ribbons fell towards the center, forming a tiny black orb in the same way cosmic dust forms a planet.
When the fire extinguished he was left with a single pill the size of a coffee bean.
One of five…
He'd found a journal while he was cleaning. In truth, he didn't care to go back through Rain's sad life more than he had too, but the blank pages were useful. Booker laid the pill on top of the paper and labeled it carefully.
The unexpected thing is, it has more potency and less toxicity than it should… Maybe the book's effects again?
Scooping up more ingredients, he dropped them into the bowl and began the process again.
Stringent Nettle
x
Whispering Pine Tar
=
Iron Callous Pill (Dull)
15% Potency // 8% Toxicity
Effect:
Hardens skin into an armor that can absorb blunt strikes and dull the impact of blades.
More powerful, but no healing effects…
And for the drunkard's vine and pine tar…
Bloodred Drunkard's Vine
x
Whispering Pine Tar
=
Wound Closing Pill (Dull)
2% Potency // 7% Toxicity
Effect:
A healing agent that can repair the flesh but not return lost strength.
Two more to go…
He was starting to feel faintly dizzy. Whatever using the fire cost him, it was leaving his body feeling increasingly cold and shaky, a layer of sweat forming on his numb skin. But curiosity and the sense of magic dancing on his fingertips, the sight of fire enveloping his hand as harmlessly as water, was driving Booker to push his limits.
Two more pills formed, using the stimulant of crow's eye.
Warrior Body Pills (Dull)
1% Potency // 8% Toxicity
Effect:
Closes wounds and induces a violent rage state that amplifies your physical abilities.
Ingredients:
Bloodred Drunkard's Vine
Crow's Eye Berries
Heartsurge Pills (Dull)
2% Potency // 6% Toxicity
Effect:
Quickens the heart and body.
Ingredients:
Whispering Pine Tar
Crow's Eye Berries
As the last pill formed, Booker ran out of stamina. The world was beginning to spin and his throat felt dry, almost sticking together. The book had begun to glow as another quest completed, but Booker was beyond caring. Neither did he care that his bed was a rough, scratchy mat, thin over a hard and uneven floor.
He collapsed, and dreamt of nothing but flames.
— — —
In the morning there was work. Booker woke up drenched in cold sweat and groggily washed his mouth out with water from a clay jug. The last of the water…
I'll guess there's a well somewhere to refill it from.
There was no toothbrush and no microwave to make breakfast in. Instead, there was a kind of twig with mild antiseptic properties that he was supposed to chew on to clean his teeth. The taste was awful, bitter and chemical.
After that…
Breakfast was eaten in a large communal hall, and served from a single cauldron. It was always congee, a kind of stewed ricemeal. Depending on your station there might be stewed greens, pork belly, and other foods added on top, but for cripples?
For cripples breakfast was congee and only congee.
As he joined the line shuffling towards the cauldron with their bowls, Booker noticed Spider ahead of him, moving with a heavy limp. It brought him no satisfaction.
Poor bastard's almost as bad off as I am.
They assembled first but ate last, standing off to the side as the proper disciples and even the young trainees collected their breakfast. By the time it got to them, they were at the bottom of the cauldron and the rice stew was thick with burned and blackened pieces from where it had touched the scalding metal directly.
It was hard not to feel the injustice. Booker was near the back of the line, so he didn't even get a full bowl.
But as he sat down at the table for defectives, he found himself sitting next to a girl with blonde stubble on her shaved scalp.
"Junior brother, that was a good fight." She said casually.
"Mm." Booker didn't know what to say. It wasn't a real fight, not here; here a real fight required magic. It had just been some basic MMA.
"Spider deserved it. He stole from me when I arrived, too." She continued, clearly not bothered by his non-answer. "It's because they're afraid, you know? The older cripples keep us young bloods in line by stealing our shit and kicking us around, but it's only because they're afraid. Afraid that when we fuck up, the punishment will land on them."
"I didn't realize they'd be the ones who felt the pain." Booker said. Collective punishment is a war crime for a reason. It tears groups apart, forces them to police each other, takes a group where everyone was together and turns some into sadists and others into victims.
"Hey." She put her hand on his arm, and the unexpected touch made Booker look over. "It's going to be alright, you know that? I know that… it's hard at first… but we're still better off than anyone living in the city."
"I guess I don't know what to do with myself." Booker admitted. It was true. Beyond following the book's instructions, he didn't have a goal for himself.
And if I'm being honest… back on Earth I never did either.
I was pretty good at MMA, my grades could have taken me somewhere, I had a few jobs that I could have seen myself doing forever…
But I never chose one and stuck with it.
It was strange. He was living the life of someone completely opposite to him now. Rain had zero talents, but had dedicated himself to a single lifetime's goal.
"Then come with me sometime." The girl cut into his thoughts. "I'll show you the city; you'll have more fun out there than in here."
"You know what? That sounds good." Booker smiled. She's easy to like. I wonder how hard it is to keep a good attitude down here.
A bell rang, signaling that the time had come to finish eating and return to work. Realizing he hadn't touched his congee, Booker shoveled the burnt scraps into his mouth, grimacing at the taste and washing it away with the drink he'd been provided. That drink turned out to be sour, heavy beer.
Wincing, he pushed his way up from the table, and hurried ahead of the crowd towards his duties.
— — —
"Well apprentice, today we have something more exciting for a young mind."
When Booker arrived, his master was wearing a wide-brimmed hat of straw and wearing simple, utilitarian robes. He carried a large burlap satchel slung around one shoulder, and a wickedly edged sickle.
Nodding for Booker to take a hat and a bag from the collection hanging on a rack, the old man explained, "We will be out harvesting sacred herbs. The task will be fairly safe. Scouts have already searched the forest and marked what we'll be taking today. True sacred herbs grow only in the outer wilds, but some weaker specimens will agree to grow nearer to cities, where the forest is only half-wild and the most dangerous sorts of monsters have been hunted to extinction.."
"However–"
He took a small sword in a leather sheathe and passed them towards Booker. "There is always a chance of encountering a beast when roaming the wilds. Take this, and wear it in confidence."
"Is this a regular duty for alchemists?" Booker asked.
The old man's mouth bent with bitter amusement. "No, it is a duty for us few alchemists who are also crippled. We do much of the work tending to the gardens here."
But that was exactly what Booker wanted to hear.
That means nobody up high is paying particularly close attention. I can definitely find a way to grab more supplies for alchemy while the old man is distracted.
"Here, this as well." He passed over a small bamboo tube capped with waxed paper. "This firework is to signal for help if you encounter a beast."
But I doubt anyone will come in time to save me…
They set out from a small gate in the Sect's compound. The Lower Sect was shaped like a half-moon that surrounded on side of Mount Songbird. There were five different temples that made up the Sect, with the largest in the center and the other four connected to it via long walls. These walls were essential to the city below, for they held back rampaging beasts from descending into the valley and destroying the farmlands there.
Everything on the opposite side of the mountain was considered unholy and foreign. Only nomadic tribes dwelled there, and city-folk held them in contempt for choosing to ally themselves with beasts – even though the tribes only did so to defend their land from the expanding city.
This part of the forest, directly above the Sect's walls, was cold and drenched in mist from the clouds that struck Mount Songbird and dissolved into swirls of fog. They were surrounded by all trees completely hidden under layers of ivy with hand-shaped leaves, but the actual forest floor was quite empty, with only small fan-shaped fronds and rotten wood from fallen limbs dotting the moss-covered earth. Herbs and grasses only sprung up around the base of the trees, where their roots could be leeched off of.
Butterflies fluttered past Booker as he climbed upwards. The whole forest was on a steep incline, with trails that mapped the safer ways to ascend. Sweat dripped off his face despite the cool mountain air.
Ahead of him the old man continued on like a mountain goat, his sandals expertly digging into the soft earth of the mountainside. Here and there he'd pause, crouching over a place where a particular plant had been marked for harvest.
The markings were made of bone needles, carved with tiny symbols and tied together with ribbons to form a perimeter once they were jabbed into the earth. "This is a formation." The old man said. "The simplest kind of formation. If an animal approaches it will be frightened away. If a poacher attempts to steal from us, it will mark them to be hunted down."
He turned back, and his eyes stared into Booker. "I must tell you. My last apprentice stole from the Sect. He had a clever way of bypassing the wards, he thought. But the Sect always catches on."
Of course, I wouldn't be the first one to think of stealing. But if I can avoid the ones that have been marked, I should be able to pocket some for myself.
But what he said was, "I'm sorry for your apprentice."
"Fools are fools. You cannot keep them from their destination." His master answered, turning back to the task of gently prying a rare root from the earth. "Hmm. Celestial chain flowers usually grow by tumult root. Have a look around, see if you can spot any small, blue flowers shaped like stars."
Perfect. A chance to wander off…
Booker nodded, calling back "I'll look around." as he walked deeper into the mist and away from his master.
Everywhere he looked, the book flipped to page after page of herbs and grasses. He could identify any plant living in the forest at a glance, and the deluge of information was overwhelming. This grass could be strained into a tea for increased focus. This herb was poisonous on six of its seven leaves, with only a small difference in coloration marking the correct one.
Most of them had only minor positive effects, however. Considering that he could only bring back a few specimens each visit, Booker wasn't interested in these garden-variety plants. Even the Sect only seemed to let them grow because they spiritually enriched the earth, making more valuable sorts of medicine more likely to take root there.
But as the wind brushed the mist back for a second, Booker saw something that captured his attention.
It was a pale white flower shaped like a slender vase, surrounded by a strange distortion in the mist that caused ghostly versions of the flower to appear out of the fog, then dissolve as soon as the wind blew.
The book's pages flipped.
Ghost-Nectar Flower
Intact // Glimmering Quality
A rare and powerful medicine, the ghost-nectar flower is known for its ability to refine and sharpen the soul.
Effects:
Potency 20% (+)
Toxicity 10% (-)
Soul Strengthening (-)
Ghost Sight (+)
Additional Effect:
Double the potency if the Ghost Sight property is activated.
This is something precious. The sheer magic of its appearance would have told Booker that, but the book's summary confirmed it.
But as he walked forward, an uneasy feeling crept into his heart. Underneath the swirling growth and rot of the mist-doubles, something pale was glinting white and red.
He already knew what it was…
But something drew him closer to be sure.
Underneath the flower was a skull and ribcage, half-covered by red scraps of meat and leering up at him with a toothy grin. It had been torn in half; this was the victim of a monster attack.
He looked up slowly and met the yellow eye of the monster sitting in the tree's branches, its jaws still red with blood.