Wraithwood Botanist

I woke up in a feverish state, sweating yet shivering. The world was colorful and distorted, as if I were in a rainbow bubble, watching mana dance in the air like oil marbling in water. Then I realized that I was staring at mana and instinctively tried to thread it.

Bad move.

I immediately hit the ground screaming, feeling as if I had tried to thread broken glass.

Take the maralune elixir, Yakana said in my mind.

My heart released its distinctive double thump as I heard him. I tried to comply, but I couldn’t get up, and the pain was too much. It took twenty minutes before I got to my hands and knees.

Kline was on the ground beside me, breathing heavily, lungs expanding and contracting.

"Is he—"

He’s okay. Do not disturb anyone threading their core, as it can be dangerous.

"Okay…." I crawled to my bag and pulled out the maralune syrup. There were less than two servings left. "Doesn’t this… add more mana?"

No. Mana deprivation is an incorrect term. When you run out of mana, you overstress your channels, and they shut down to prevent you from rupturing them. That’s why you lose energy.

I see.

That syrup heals the channels and helps them breathe. Now eat so that we may continue.

I nodded and picked up the spoon—hands shaking. I felt like a heroin addict trying to get my fix in between withdrawals. But I pushed forward, getting a small amount out and licking the spoon. It instantly soothed my mana channels. I had to force myself to close the bottle before I collapsed on the ground, moaning in relief.

Take more and drink. There is much to do.

I nodded and tried again—and again. Five minutes later, I was standing again, feeling disjointed. My body felt like it was under warm water that was ebbing and flowing around me.

"Now what?" I asked.

Take some of your soul repair elixir.

I furrowed my brows and retrieved the "Sylvion Elixir" I had received as part of my trial. It was a bottle with milky liquid, like coconut water.

Only a fourth, Yakana said.

"Why?" I asked. "Is there something wrong with my soul?"

Assimilating with me strains the soul.

"You mean when we… merged?"

Yes. You are not yet ready, but you have the resources to compensate.

I opened the bottle and smelled it. It didn’t smell like… anything. It was also small—the size of a shampoo bottle. It seemed so… inconsequential.

I took a small drink—and swallowed hard.

Suddenly, my soul broke out of my body, and for a moment, I felt like if I turned around, I’d be staring at myself. Then my body rocketed back into place, snapping forward. I jolted and almost spilled the liquid, but I caught myself by pressing against the fireplace’s stones. Then I quickly screwed on the lid with shaky hands, trying to control the shakes.

What’s going on with me? I asked with my thoughts.

Your soul must cleanse first, Yakana said.

I fell over, dropping the vial. It clattered across the floor, making me panic—yet I couldn’t think or react. My body started molding, and my identity shifted. Under the effects of the Awakening Elixir, I could visually see how my essence left me and began weaving together with the tapestry, sewing raw mana into my body like it was another layer of skin.

Now sleep, Yakana said. Let your body and mind heal so that we may continue.

My body felt drowsy, so I didn’t question it. I fell asleep again, weaving in and out of consciousness, seeing a kaleidoscope of colors, feeling mana molding with me, cleansing me, sewing me together, sending me far, far away from this world. Then I suddenly woke, feeling so refreshed that I was afraid I had missed all my practice time.

"Oh no…" I whispered, cupping my forehead.

Calm yourself and establish mana flow, Yakana said. Then we can begin.

"Okay…" I was relieved but uncomfortable. I rubbed my arms, feeling slime all over my skin. Yet I ignored it and sat up. Then I closed my eyes and established mana flow. Then, Yakana continued.

Follow this pattern so that you may understand battle magic.

It’s different than threading?

Why would you thread when releasing magic?

Good point.

Now, pay attention. Yakana melded into my body again and started to circulate the mana, moving it from limb to limb—chest to head. It flowed like streams, calm and tranquil. Then he moved it to my right hand—and released it. It suddenly felt like fireworks exploding from my hand. Then, real fire brushed my fingertips. I panicked, but Yakana moved first, moving the flames out into the room and making them dance in the air.

"This is crazy…" I said, watching the flame flickering in the sky, flying freely like a Chinese dragon.

Magic is a dance between circulating mana and enacting your will upon the world, Yakana explained. Circulate mana within, enact your spell upon the world, and then use mana to control it. Those are things you must practice.

I nodded. "How?"

I will allow you to feel it. Suddenly, mana circulated through my hands and arms and legs, allowing me to move with surreal ease. I felt like there was energy flowing freely within me, making my limbs light as air but hard as steel.

Mana circulation is the nature of magic," Yakana said, but you must understand—it is also the essence of movement. The two are interconnected. Just as you use mana to release spells from various parts of your body, you can use that same circulation to augment your movements. This is what Kline does instinctively. This is what you must do to protect him.

My heart fluttered when he answered my plea to aid Kline.

To start this circulation, you must "churn" your core and establish mana flow. But instead of threading that mana, you can use that mana for spells. Let’s practice with your spells.

Yakana released my body, and I started circulating mana to my limbs, summoning a water sphere whenever it reached my hands. It worked with surreal ease—yet when I tried to move the water sphere, everything started collapsing. I couldn’t connect to the tapestry.

Recite your word and try again, Yakana instructed. "But do not churn your core.

I closed my eyes and summoned a water sphere. "Apokálypsis."

Suddenly, the mana in the air started circulating in an insane network that I had sucked into my body the night before but was now keeping out of my body—

—big difference.

Now, I could control it to a degree and use it to lightly control the water around me. Hovering droplets of water swirled around me, making me giggle like a lunatic. It felt surreal and fantastic—as magic should.

Now that you understand, sit and practice, Yakana said.

I nodded and sat down—and began practicing with the tapestry of mana. I practiced for hours until it felt like I fell asleep, but when I opened my eyes, my body was just naturally breathing mana in these patterns. Closing my eyes, I used that tapestry to move into my hands.

Purify.

Without a chant, I released purify, and it illuminated the entire room.

I could do it. I could use strong magic!

This forest was lethal, but I had powerful resources, a warrior partner, alchemy, upcoming legacies, and a huge head start on magic. Living here officially wasn’t off the table now!

I tried to suppress my excitement, but it was difficult. So, I focused on something else instead.

I got up and grabbed the rest of the turquoise stone. It was far dimmer than it was before.

I won’t be in this state forever, I thought.

Yakana didn’t warn me. Whether it was a test or not, I wasn’t sure. But I wanted to make the most of my time, so I sat down and put it in my mouth.

It exploded with energy again—and without Yakana helping me get into the groove, it was difficult. My entire mana network screamed out, and I wanted to spit it out. But I couldn’t. If I couldn’t do this now, I wouldn’t be able to do it without the elixir. So I forced myself to concentrate and wrangled those wisps, threading them into my core like I was pulling on a rope with all my strength. Once it was threaded, I churned my core to the strongest degree. It was a rough start, but it started cranking and moving, slowly threading it together. Before I knew it, it was threading on its own.

I didn’t know how much time I had left with the elixir’s effects—but I would make the most of it.

Brindle watched Mira on the Oracle’s screen. Why would Yakana bond like this?

Yakana’s role was to show people the path—to allow them to experience Death, which was to assimilate with the mana tapestry itself. Near the end of the assimilation, they also showed the assimilator life. Yet, Yakana wouldn’t bond with anyone just because it could. It was an amalgamation of hundreds of thousands of souls that decided to protect the forest. So, while one of its purposes was to guide souls through the Grand Assimilation, it stopped at teaching.

Did Yakana think that this woman wasn’t a threat? Or did they see her as a potential guardian? There were so many questions—and it left him at a loss when considering what to do.

He wanted to support any individual who could be a guardian—yet he trusted few, and his powers weren’t something to give out lightly.

Brindle was not a botanist. He was a soulmancer who, as a druid, had a deep connection with nature and thus used nature as a vessel for his art. Only his love and passion for plants brought him to a deep level of understanding with them, but he didn’t spend a single request on something plant-related. Instead, he spent sixty thousand years as the guardian of the Areswood Forest, meticulously researching every plant, fern, fungi, moss, tree, and lichen in each ring before moving on to the next. Yet during that time, he achieved absolute purity for his core and mastered his art—so much so that he made third-evolution beasts and plants into guardians of the gate. Since then, few had been able to pass over his walls—and he went through another three rings, a second forest, and ascended to become a god.

Brindle was a remarkably dangerous entity—and he couldn’t just give that power to anyone. If he gave it to this woman, she could release the Bramble and let people into the forest once more.

So why did Yakana bond with her? Teach her how to connect with the assimilation? Gain power? It was perplexing to him—and aggravating because he couldn’t speak to her.

All Brindle could do was offer the human a "Legacy Quest." It still bothered him to remember back to what Elana had told him.

You cannot interact with her unless you offer her your legacy and she accepts it, she said.

What do you mean "accepts it," he scoffed. Who would reject something so valuable? Are humans that mad?

You’re not the only one, Brindle. Many gods have offered her legacies, and she can only choose one. Two, if the winner allows it. But that’s jumping the gun. Before any of that, you need to…

Brindle rubbed his head. There were so many useless rules, including a need to hold a near-suicidal quest, providing a valuable reward, and waiting until after the Trial of Worth. Yet, he couldn’t fault the system. As Elana put it: If these rules weren’t here, Mira would’ve taken the first legacy she was offered, and every god with a hunger for resources would be offering their legacies to her.

Brindle returned to watching Mira on the screen. The turquoise core in her hand was slowly graying, making him feel a sense of urgency—especially after what Kori had told him.

Listen, Brindle, Kori said. Elana’s gonna rob that forest dry. So either you give the girl your legacy, or you leave it to Elana. And look… you gotta sweeten the pot. Let ’er have a subclass. Give ’er a good reward. Ultimately, once she gets your legacy, you can set her on the right path, and there’s nothing Elana or anyone else can do about it.

Brindle closed his eyes, feeling a desire to simply kill Elana and all the other gods offering the woman legacies. That said, if Elana was right, there was no shortage of gods looking to strike it rich. In fact, it was likely that this neophyte had already rekindled the gods’ ambitions to claim the forest. How long would it be before that bloodbath started again?

Areswood needed a guardian of the Fourth Ring. It was the weakest of the rings in terms of his precautions. Mira could be the person he needed.

Once she gets your legacy, you can set her on the right path.

Brindle was conflicted.

Suddenly, the turquoise core Mira was threading turned gray and cracked. That nearly solidified his decision.

If she accepts my trial… and survives… it’s fate, Brindle thought as he filled out the legacy quest. If she doesn’t, it wasn’t. If she doesn’t accept… He sighed and watched his rainbow eucalyptus tree grow to full maturity. I’ll make an example of Elana. I hope the gods learn after one.