Wraithwood Botanist

"Doesn’t help that you announced me to the world, did it?" I sneered.

"False," Lithco said. "I suppress information on families during the trial to prevent coercion—but it didn’t help. Your family spread information about a woman who was integrated into the Areswood Forest. It reached the Claustra Family within the day, and they sold the information to a dozen other businesses, organizations, and fellow info-brokers, including governments in multiple domains. You were famous from the instant your parents opened their mouths."

I shivered, feeling prickled goosebumps wave up my forearms. "Oh…"

"Luckily for you, I hide information on blessings and legacies, so you don’t have to worry about that," he said. "There’s also anti-stalking measures, and I provide routes to information suppression. Not that they’re that effective for the famous."

I reached out my arms, and Kline walked into them, allowing me to hold him like a stress pillow. Then I looked up. "So whadda we do about it?"

Lithco laced his fingers and leaned in. "I suppose that question’s worthy of an information request."

I glared at him. He made eye contact and raised his eyebrows. I caved in.

"Fine. But I want a report, not some flimsy bullet points. And I want you to explain it."

Lithco smiled strangely. "I’m an AI that rules the Multiverse. Do you really think that my lists are so inconsequen—"

"I want a report."

He put up his hands. "Fine. Here’s what we’re going to need…" he began, starting his explanation. At first, I was engaged, but minutes soon turned to hours, and by the time he finished, all I could muster was a, Fine. Whatever, just fucking do it, before rubbing my sunken eyes. Once it was over, I leaned back and turned away from Lithco.

"Well, at least I know they’ll be safe," I grumbled. It spent a diamond, two platinum, and a gold—but it was worth it. A lot of people were gonna get one hell of a shock once they kicked in—especially my parents. It’s not like I could call them to warn them. Not that I think I would, anyway...

"... so?" Lithco asked. "Your family’s taken care of. You want to choose a class now?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"What’ll it be?"

"Brindle… obviously. He wrote the book on the forest, and he’s giving me two legacies… kinda. I doubt Elana would offer that. Right?"

"I can’t speak for gods."

I rolled my eyes. ’Course not."

"So?" Lithco asked. "Brindle’s the one?"

I nodded. "Yeah." A second later, I got the notification.

"Next up, subclass," he said. "Everyone’s offering you one—including the poison god."

"They can do that?"

"Yeah. Blessed subclasses just require distinction and class relevancy. It’s a high barrier, but you killed hundreds of second-evolution beasts with poisons. It counts."

"Makes sense...."

"So? Do you want it?"

"The poison blessing?"

"Yeah."

I smiled wryly, wishing it wasn’t an option. It just made the decision harder.

"No…" I said. "I want Elana’s."

"You sure?"

I nodded solemnly. "Brindle’s legacy’s a nightmare, and I’ll need money for protection. I can’t be using requests forever."

"Wise point," Lithco said.

I nodded and looked away. Our conversation referred to family protection. I bought them heavy detail for two years with a platinum request, but in the future, I’d have to pay in money or resources. That’s something Lithco explained during our two-hour talk. I was famous. Even if I didn’t accept Brindle’s legacy, side-stepping the zealots’ wrath, people would try to coerce me into bringing them raw resources from the forest. Then, there were the zealots and competitor gods’ apprentices. My family didn’t need security—they needed the best security, and the best was pricey. Class or not, I needed enough money or barter to protect them.

"Plus I need it," I sighed, speaking of the subclass. "We got the water, but that won’t solve every problem. It’s just a pragmatic class. Plus it’s... reasonable? I don’t know what I was expecting, but I thought Elana would be asking for weekly shipments or something. She’s just asking for what I already planned to do."

Her tribute was to create alchemic creations and pass them off during the Black Harvest. That’s what I was already going to do. There might be some risk in the supplies, but anything worthy of selling had to be good.

Lithco smiled strangely. "You can actually thank Brindle for that. If Elana had her way, she’d bleed you dry, but Brindle would killed her if she tried."

My eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Badass, I thought. It was crazy to hear that my first patron god could casually kill my second. It was better that the stronger one wanted me to focus on plants all day. This was a boom I never considered. I regarded both notifications more fondly after that.

"Well, if that’s it," Lithco slapped his legs and stood up, "I’ll get going."

"Wait. That’s it?"

He smiled at me. "That’s it. You got two new tabs: Legacy and Subclass. They’re similar, but you’ll pick ’em up easily enough."

His words and demeanor twisted my tongue in knots, and I found myself confused, unsure what question would ease this anxiety. Then it hit me. Since I arrived, I had been reading directions from a screen and risking my life for quantified awards. Now, I had come to the end of it, and there wasn’t another prompt telling me what to do. Speak to gods? Go through some orientation? I was lost.

"So… what now?" I asked.

Lithco shrugged his shoulders, presenting his flat palms on both sides of his body like a serif W. Then he dissolved like a Hollywood vampire, blowing away in a breeze that I could barely feel against my skin.

I was slightly annoyed but almost… liberated. It was a brutal week—but now, I could do whatever I wanted. If I were so inclined, I could spend my entire day studying plants.

I pulled up the Guide screen and saw the two tabs with "[New!]" plastered on the side. I went to choose one but pulled back at the last moment. Nothing was telling me that I needed to. Lithco didn’t. It wasn’t being forced upon me… Yeah. It was voluntary.

I grinned and looked at Kline. "Hey, you wanna take the day off? Do some foraging?"

Kline meowed strangely.

"And do some hunting," I added.

Kline’s meow became vibrant and accepting.

I swiped away the Guide screen. "Sorry, guys," I said to the sky. "I went through hell to study botany, so I’m gonna do that. I’ll be responsible tomorrow… probably."

I chuckled with a wide grin, feeling empowered as I strutted off with Kline, ready to start my new life.

2.

Elana’s cheek twitched when she heard Mira declare that the gods had to wait to speak to her. Was she mad? Did she not understand the depth of what Elana offered her? Hundreds of thousands would gravel on their knees to even receive a recipe from her! This was absolutely ridiculous. Disrespectful. Absurd.

Kori’s obnoxious laughter made it worse. The tiefling was high on life to make up for that despicable poison that he was drinking the last time he was over.

"Can I help you with something?" Elana asked sharply.

He turned to her. "I’m not sure that’s the question. I think the right one is: can I help you?" He looked at the empty room. "You’re not even showing off anymore."

Elana paused and looked at him, glancing around his person. "You’re hideous."

"So is she…" Kori smirked, turning back to the screen.

"Don’t you dare call my pupil hideous!"

Kori smiled slightly, watching Mira examine a gnarly-looking plant as if they was the most fascinating thing in the world. "Those were your words…" He smirked at her. "Past tense."

Elana blushed and looked away. "She’s my pupil Kori." She glanced at him. "And don’t you dare compare yourself to her."

He put up his hands in a surrender gesture and smiled. "Not saying nothing." He might have pressed on to capture her interest, but he was drawn back to the screen, watching Mira looking at a mushroom that was right next to the plant. She hadn’t moved two inches before being drawn back in. That was compelling in its own way, and he said so. "It’s crazy that she survived this long, isn’t it?"

Elana watched her. "Yeah. Pretty special, if you ask me." She glanced to the left and found Kline grooming himself behind her, ears twitching as he looked around—keeping guard. "But it kinda makes sense."

Kori nodded and reached into a spatial ring and pulled out another bottle of poison.

"No," Elana said.

He ignored her and pulled out two shot glasses, filling them. Then he rocked both back, exhaling harshly, giving a wheeeeeeeeew as he shivered.

"You’re unbelievable," she scoffed.

He held up the bottle and shook it. "Well? Celebrate?"

Elana glanced at him one last time before snatching it out of his hand. "One drink."

Kori gave her a knowing smirk and then watched on.

3.

Doug had spent his entire life hating Microsoft Excel. It was the bane of his existence as a finance manager, taking up most of his time. He had spent the last two years debating the value of hiring a personal data analyst just to ensure that he’d never have to touch the software again.

Now, he was writing numbers on a scroll, and once he finished, the parchment absorbed half the ink, crunched the calculations, and wrote an answer on the scroll in the calculated section.

"This’s what they’re paying you for," Doug thought, body twitching. "If they messed up those calculations, that’s a them problem, not a me problem…." He forced a smile, trying not to flip the page, trying to read the arrays on the back with the calculations. "But still… this is the worst."

A sudden knock on his door captured his attention.

"Come in," Doug said.

His coworker Trak—the know-it-all asshole rockin’ the high school mathematics skills—came in, not a trace of smugness on his expression. There wasn’t a smirk or blood or anything other than a look of absolute fear as his body trembled.

"M-Mr. Hill…" he said.

Mr. Hill…? why’s he suddenly treating me like a… Doug stopped his thought when two men the size of bodybuilders walked into his office, each over six feet tall and exuding invisible pressure that made Doug shutter. They both had beards; one had a hideous scar from where someone fish hooked their cheek with a bowie knife, by the look of it.

Doug was going to die. He was certain of it.

"H-How can I help you?" Doug asked.

"Pardon our intrusion," the first said. "We are hired guards of the Dante Family. From this day on, we will be protecting you and your family. Each of us is a second ev with high purity and combat experience. I assure you that we’re qualified, sir."

"W-Wait. You’re going to what?" Doug looked at Trak, who was staring at him like a god he shouldn’t have offended. That wasn’t a good sign. He looked back at the guards. "I’m confused."

"Tell him," the second guard reminded the first.

"Oh," the first said, clearing his throat. "We are here by order of one Mira Hill."

Doug leaned back, eyes darting between the two, unsure whether to laugh or cower. So he did both, wondering what Mira had done to warrant such extreme measures. That girl… he thought as he awkwardly dealt with him. Yet inside, he was burning with pride over his little girl. She had done grown up, and she was already taking care of her parents. It was just another reminder that his decision to settle down and have children was the best thing he had ever done.

4.

Tanya saw the guards walk into her classroom and panicked, pulling the children close into a ball—prepared to protect them with her life. Then she learned who they were and scoffed, appalled by the untactful introduction. It left her fuming.

Yet once the children left and she heard the circumstances, she calmed down.

That girl, she thought, humored tears in her eyes. Just last week, she and Doug were trying to protect her; this week was the opposite. Tanya felt a deep desire to buy a white dress and stomp right into that forest just to show Mira how much she loved her. Yet, for now, she just wept silently, thanking the bodyguards as they took her home

5.

Four male teenagers led Tyler into the woods, all walking with their chests out, bodies flaring with testosterone and primal fury. Tyler was amongst the angriest. Ever since Mira gave him the platinum request, he started getting the best results and magic. The girls began flocking to him—the guys got jealous. But the bullying had started ramping up as well.

Sup, Cheat Code? they’d say. Back off, man. His sister’ll kill you, another would add. Over and over, stuck on repeat, cutting like a scratched disk.

It all started with the snide British dickhead that was currently leading him into the forest. His name was Holden, and his friend group had successfully created a negative PR campaign against him. It was called "Sis Curve," and they started getting the kids to start gauging their power with it. When Tyler did something, they labeled it the "cheat standard." Then people shot for it, and no matter how well they did, they won. If they did worse than Tyler, they said the person did "good for someone not on the Sis Curve." And if someone beat Tyler’s score, they were praised as someone who didn’t need cheat codes to win—

—and people won often.

That’s because the tests were built on talent. Raw power or distance wasn’t a metric. It was based on accuracy, purity, and efficacy. Large spells often caused more problems than they solved, so Tyler winning often was a sign of his talent, not a fucking cheat!

Tyler stomped his feet onto the ground, feeling twigs crunch underfoot as the others watched him from all sides. They were sneering, darkness in their eyes.

You want to fight? he thought. I’ll give you a fight.

Tyler was shocked that they wanted to fight at all. Did they believe their lies? It would be delusional if they did. Even four against one, Tyler had the magical power and skill needed to take them off.

Holden suddenly stopped in an open clearing, sunlight streaming through the canopies onto a field of boring flowers and gnarled weeds. He took a breath before snorting. "You’ve got some proper nerve to rock up here."

"I’m just tired of you people thinkin’ everything I do’s a fucking handout," Tyler said. "So if you want me to prove it—I’ll prove it."

Holden sneered, and his three friends surrounded Tyler. "Let’s make something clear. This…" He whirled his finger toward the sky. "All of this. It doesn’t matter how strong a person is."

Tyler knew something was wrong and immediately started chanting.