Wraithwood Botanist

"I feel… different," I said.

"I’m sure you do."

We were both downplaying it. When Yakana told me that I would know when I was ready to evolve, I didn’t think something so abstract would be possible. But I knew then that I was ready as if it were a primal instinct. It was time to evolve—but I didn’t want to say that and be wrong.

Nethralis smiled. "Let’s eat."

Nethralis and I returned to a feast of meat and herbs. I wanted to watch Serenflora’s nightlife and share in the feast outside, but she intentionally blocked any attempt for me to ask and pushed me inside. It felt odd, but I didn’t question it.

During dinner, she asked me about my experience. I told her about my traumas and was surprised at how easily I spoke about them. Nethralis was shocked as well, albeit for another reason.

"You’ve really lived a sheltered life, haven’t you?" she asked.

I pieced together her observation and laughed. "Oh, you don’t even know. If people even argued where I went to school, police officers would break it up and threaten them with expulsion. Not everywhere, obviously. There’s areas rich with violence and killing but for a lot of us… we see killing someone… for any reason… as… what’s the term…? Unforgivable? No… that’s not what I’m looking for. Some people kill and get lauded for it, but… tainting? I think that’s what it is. People where I’m from see taking another person’s life as a line you can’t come back from, and you’re forever scarred by it. It has a stigma. Complete opposite of what we got here."

"I see…" Nethralis thought about it deeply before saying, "Then can you do it? Can you kill your own kind? If you had to?"

I put down my fork and thought about it for a while. "I’m not sure. I think… I think that…" I paused, feeling frustrated and unable to articulate my words. "I think… that it’s easier that I’m out here. I’ve been killing things non-stop for months, and I don’t think… that the type of enemy would necessarily change things. But… the thought of telling my parents… that’s different. And it’s also… impossible to know what’ll happen, but… I’m… different now. Killing things is normal now. And while I’d never just… kill someone just to kill someone. Never… murder someone. If people were attacking me… yeah, I’d fight back. I’d… try to settle it first, obviously. But if that failed… yeah. I think I probably could."

"I see…" Nethralis sent for servants to clean up the mess and then turned to me. "Well, we’ll just have to see. Rest up. Tomorrow’s your last day."

I said good night and purified my clothes before bundling up with Kline, who was too exhausted to even eat. His eyes drooped as he curled up with me, and we fell asleep.

Kyro was waiting out front the next morning. Or rather, Zyphrael was waiting with two guards who were holding the degenerate fairy, whose eyes were bloodshot and depleted from what one could assume would be a terrible night.

"Bad streak?" I asked.

"Bad streak…?" Kyro laughed. "I almost paid all my debts before this guy ended my hot streak. Since then, my dry spell would cripple an optimist and lead them deep down the path of despair."

"Take this seriously," Zyphrael ordered. "If she dies, you’re gone. So I suggest you get to training."

"You could’ve just kicked me out. Sending me on this roundabout, suicidal mission was complete unnecessary. I mean…" Kyro eased up when Zyphrael glared at him. "Okay. I’ll train her, but… bring me a bottle, won’t cha? If you hadn’t noticed, I’m a raging alcoholic, so withholding it guarantees failure."

Zyphrael clicked his tongue and signaled. One guard splashed a detoxification elixir onto Kyro—

"They never let me drink it," Kyro grumbled.

—then another brought him a bottle of spirits the size of a mason jar.

Zyphrael dropped the bottle in front of Kyro like it was a full keg of beer. "Here you go. If you die ’cause you were too drunk to teach her, that’s on you. Come on, Kline."

Kline scrunched his nose, and he looked at me as if seeking permission."

"Go train," I said.

Kline meowed softly and trotted after Zyphrael, leaving Kyro and I alone together.

Kyro wasn’t the least bit bothered by the sentiment. He flicked around his wrist like a conductor, opening the lid with telekinesis. He then pulled out some liquid, filled his flask, and screwed on the lid. Then he lifted the jar and turned to the forest.

"Alright, come on," he said. "I’m gonna work you till you cry."

2.

The first part of the day wasn’t that different from the last time we practiced together. We worked with Nymbral, but this time, I focused exclusively on creating thin arrows and guiding them. It was a very challenging task because instead of simply sorting something, I was working with an object moving at high speed. So, while I could easily move the arrow, getting it to hit what I wanted felt impossible—

—and Kyro forbade me from using my acceleration technique.

That said, the ability to guide the arrow increased my accuracy, firing at a moving target overnight, and my brain had far more control after taking the nearan elixir the day prior. My mind felt clear and the world moved slower, allowing me to see the arrow fire as if I had Moxle Dilation working at the lowest possible output, but my body naturally moved with it. My whole body felt light.

But it wouldn’t help me start using this bow as a primary weapon any time soon.

Which was natural.

Hunters spend years learning how to hunt with a bow. Archers spend hours practicing every day. In fact, it doesn’t matter what a person does, skill is measured in years, not days or weeks or months. Talent is hard work, and while I had magic that allowed me to break through my limitations and cheat, letting me slow time to turn fast objects into slow objects, it would still take a very long time before I could call myself an archer.

That said, I practiced my ass off until I was completely drained, and then Nethralis showed up with Kline, lunch, and my second elixir. After eating, we returned to the hot springs, which were uncharacteristically empty, and she handed the vial to me.

"This is a tightening elixir," she explained, waving her hand to create a barrier over the hot spring. "You’re going to take it and thread without a core."

"That’s all?"

"That’s all."

"What’s the catch?"

"The catch is that it won’t add new mana. It’s going to constrict your mana threads and wind them tighter, like lacing your boots after pulling them taut. It’s like that… but more… personal."

I looked at the barrier and empty spring. "And?"

Nethralis smiled. "It will be un… believably painful."

I sighed. "Alright." I unsealed the vial, and she frowned.

"It doesn’t seem like you’re taking this serious enough."

"I can do pain," I said, trailing off. "I’ve been through some pretty awful shit in the last three months… I can do pain."

"Everyone says that until—"

"They start screaming? Yeah. Pain is pain… But I can do pain."

And I did. Even with Mental Shielding cranked to the maximum, I couldn’t feel anything but pain. It was like someone was standing on my stomach with a chainsaw, treating my chest like an ice sculpture, but I could handle that. I never once stopped threading.

Pain I could do.

Memories… trauma… fear… there were a lot of things that could break a person… things that could break me—but pain wasn’t one of them.

Six hours later, Nethralis was doping me up with a cocktail of channel and core recovery elixirs and herbs and teas, and before long, I had "expelled" all the impurities in my body, and I was lying with Kline on Brindle’s bed, slowly dying—waiting for the end.

But we made it.

My nearan pathways were reestablished, my mind and nervous system had stronger connections, and my core was both unclogged and wound together. I could use Nymbral and I had a sensitivity elixir to use when evolving my core. In just three days, I had somehow become substantially stronger than I was before. With that thought in mind, I drifted into sleep.

3.

It was dark when I awoke, and a celebration was underway. I got up and looked out the window and saw Serenflora lit up with gold lights that glittered against the pink and white trees. Sprites flew around in a frenzy as musicians beat drums and sang intense songs that rattled my bones.

Kline yawned and got up, stretching his front quarters and then each back individually before rubbing against my legs.

Things didn’t seem too serious—so I cracked the door.

Kyro was sitting on the step with a tiny bottle of wine in hand, speaking drunkenly to a dozen fairies and even more nymphs and sprites. I thought they might have been there to collect money from him or to run him out of town like a mob—until I heard the crowd erupt into laughter.

I opened the door a bit more to listen.

"What do you mean, ’Did I really do that?’" Kyro asked. "I’ve done just about everything. Do you even know how old I am? I’ve been celibate for centuries ’cause I owed every grand elder’s parents’ money on the day they were born. You can practically gauge a family’s history just by how much they hate me."

A few men snickered, and the kids laughed, and the women asked for blackmail on certain elders, and the whole thing turned into a jovial party until Kyro said, "Excuse me. My companion lacks common sense. I’ll be right back."

Kyro disappeared from my vision and then blinked into existence in front of my eyes. He reeked of aged malt and sleep deprivation. "What’re you doing?"

"Uh… watching?" I said.

"Oh…" He rubbed his eyes with his palms in circular motions, taking a deep breath and saying, "Let me ask this another way. Are you stupid?"

"Stupi… wait. What?"

"Mira… If you can’t see or hear…" He turned behind him and revealed the drunken fires and war songs. "We’re preparing for war… against you. Your kind. So, until you slaughter a few human battalions and declare yourself a wingless Drokai…"

He began pushing me into the house.

"Hey, I’m a guest here!"

"Yeah… you are a guest. Remember how well that worked out? I’ll remind you: not good. You have Nethralis’s support, but you’re still gonna have to win over the rest—"

"Hey! Isn’t that the human?"

"It is! I heard about her!"

"Kyro! Introduce us!"

"See?" I said. "I’ve spent a lot of time with the females over at the spring. It’s okay."

"No… it’s not. Because unless Earth was filled with insects, you’ll know that where there’s people, there’s disagreements, and when there’s disagreements—"

"Oi!" a female fairy yelled in the distance. "Is that a human? What the fuck’s she even doing here?"

"She’s our guess. I saw ’er with Nethralis."

"Yeah. I heard. But why the fuck’s she a guest. We don’t allow outsiders here."

Suddenly, the music stopped on our side, and fairies and nymphs and sprites turned to the house, moving up close for a better look. It might have been contained if it weren’t for the sprites, which glowed as they flew forward, capturing the attention of thousands of fairies as they flew up.

"Well, this’s your chance to win ’em over," Kyro said. "I guess." He turned to the group. "Yes, this’s her! I present Mira Hill. Yakana’s chosen guardian in training."

His words had impact, spreading through the crowd. Then, an explosion happened. A hundred people started asking me questions and another hundred started yelling at other people, demanding to know why I was there and when they needed a human guardian and why the hell they were breaking rules.

"I… um…" No one was letting me speak. "Listen… I…"

Things got worse, and Kyro’s face turned grim.

"Where’s Nethralis?" I whispered.

"In a ceremony."

"Of course she is."

My heart raced as things got out of control. Then, a sharp whistle cut through the crowd, silencing everyone on the spot. I turned to the source, and my stomach sank.

It was Zyphrael—and he looked furious.

"I didn’t mean to," I said.

Zyphrael narrowed his eyes at me but stayed silent. He instead turned to the crowd and said something that left me speechless.