I slam open the Storage building’s door. “Talia, I need a shit-ton of money!”

Talia sets down her teacup as the City Guards turn to face me.

“Hello, Sal,” Talia says. “Thank you for joining us so… unexpectedly. Would you give me a moment to finish my business with the guards here?”

“Um,” I say, trying not to stare at the guards. “Sure. Sorry. I thought you were alone.”

I shuffle off to the side and stand awkwardly by a cluster of training dummies which have been shoved aside in the storeroom to make room for Talia’s equipment. As I wait, I catch sight of Lisari in the back, bent over some books. A faint breeze wisps through the room, and she waves over her shoulder at me. I awkwardly return the wave. Even though I know she can “see” me with her wind, it still feels strange waving at someone’s back.

The guards turn back to Talia and I strain to listen in. Are they questioning her about Enrold? She and him didn’t seem to be on good terms when she busted me out of the guard hall. I scan the group of guards, and my heart skips when I recognize one of them.

Check, I tell Echo.

[Jules, Level 28 spellsword,] Echo says. [A lieutenant in the city guard.]

Crap. She’s one of the guards who originally picked me up from the Starlight Inn. She’ll definitely recognize me. Enrold had already been super suspicious of me when Talia intervened. Does Jules harbor that same suspicion? Ironically, I was innocent of murder then, but would be completely guilty if they thought to question me now. I sink in on myself, trying to appear as small and unassuming as possible.

I definitely need to work on my laying low abilities.

“You have our assurance,” Jules says to Talia. “The entire stadium will be patrolled by every available guard. Each entry point will be staffed. There will be no surprises.”

“So you say.” Talia takes another long sip of tea, and the guards stand there awkwardly, waiting for her to finish. Finally she sets it down on her desk. “Alright, I’ll take your word. But if indeed the event does not transpire smoothly, you can expect the guards’ funding will reflect that next cycle. Just because I no longer have a sister on the Council doesn’t mean I no longer have any sway.”

Jules presses her lips into a displeased line, but dips her head in acknowledgement. Then the group turns to leave, a few giving me curious looks as they pass by. My stomach flips, and I shrink back as Jules heads my way. She glances at me, and I think I see a flicker of recognition in her eyes. She doesn’t stop, however. A moment later, they’re gone.

I let out a relieved breath as the door shuts behind them. She has no reason to suspect me. I was worrying over nothing.

“What was that about?” I ask, turning to Talia

Talia scrunches up her face in distaste. “Preparations for the tournament. The Council should be handling such details, but given their gradual descent into chaos in the wake of my sister’s death, I’ve had to pick up some of their slack. With two seats open, the city’s power structure is tenuous, and I wouldn’t put it past a councilmember to use the distraction of the tournament to try something rash. The guards have promised to station themselves around the stadium during the event, but I’d feel a lot better about things if I could get the Captain to promise the support himself. Apparently I’m so beneath him that I only receive assurances from his second in command.”

I try not to squirm at the mention of Enrold. “Oh?” I ask, innocently.

Talia fixes me with a sharp look. “What’s that tone?”

“Nothing,” I say. Before she can press the topic, I hurriedly add, “So can I borrow some money?”

Talia snorts. “I seem to recall you were asking for more than just some.”

“A shit-ton, to be exact,” Lisari says, still bent over her books. “What do you need it for?”

“Precisely what I was going to ask,” Talia says. She looks at me expectantly.

“Important things,” I say. “Potions.”

“Of course,” Talia says dryly. “Potions. The most important thing.”

“Well I’m rather partial to potions,” Lisari says. She finally peels herself away from her books. “What are you looking for? Maybe I could help.”

I perk up at the offer. “That would be great. I need an Augment potion.”

“Ah,” Lisari says, a little disappointed. “Then I won’t be able to help. Wind magic, you know.”

I look at Talia hopefully, but she shakes her head as well. “I’m more a scholar than a mage. But I could potentially purchase this potion you’re looking for. An augment, hmm? I’ve heard of them. What spell are you looking to boost?”

“One that will keep me alive in the tournament,” I say, which is, strictly speaking, the truth. Of course, it’s Maru rather than the other contestants I’m worried about.

“How much?” Talia asks, suspicious.

I force a smile through my grimace. “Only about fifty gold?”

Talia scoffs, and Lisari whistles.

“I mean, I suppose I could also work with forty,” I add.

“You can’t possibly need that strong of an augment,” Talia says. “I doubt anyone in the city even works with potions at such a price.”

Well, not normal merchants, anyway. “Let me worry about buying it,” I say. “I just need the capital. I’ll pay you back?”

“How?” Talia demands. “You’ll be working that debt off the rest of your life.”

Depending on how soon my life gets cut short, she might be on the money there. But with the Blackcloak Guild, I’ll be able to pay it off with maybe a year’s worth of safer jobs—jobs that don’t involve murdering the head of the city guard.

“Look, I promise I can pay it back, no matter how long it takes,” I say. “Please? My life literally depends on this.”

Talia frowns, drumming her fingers on the desk. “Oh, alright. It’s not as though I was planning on using the money for anything else anyway.”

“Thank you!” I cry, throwing my arms around her in a hug. “Thank you so much. When can you get it to me?”

Lisari giggles. “Yes, she’s truly appreciative.”

Oh, shut up, Lisari, you don’t have gods trying to kill you.

Talia extracts herself from my hug. “Tomorrow, perhaps, if you meet me at my house in the evening. Will that do?”

I was supposed to head back to the inn tonight. It wouldn’t make much sense to head back there today just to turn back around and return to Fairwood the very next morning. Guess Iski and Gugora will have to go another day without me. Even though I’d promised Gugora I’d be back soon. My gut sours at the thought.

“If you don’t mind me spending the night at your house again,” I say. “I don’t have anywhere else in Fairwood to stay.”

“That will be fine,” Talia allows. “So long as you promise not to steal any more books.”

An embarrassed heat climbs up my neck. “I’m just borrowing it.”

Talia laughs. “And I’m only teasing you. Honestly, I never touch that library anyway. While you’re here, however, I could use your help. Well, Lisari could. You don’t mind, do you, Lisari?”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Not at all,” the young woman says.

“I was going to work with her on some of the cultural research for the tournament—the city wants appropriate decorations—however my time is better spent overseeing the workings of the Council and making sure one of the snobs aren't about to gut my department,” Talia says, rather bitter. “Sal, if you want to start earning back your keep, here’s your first task.”

I can think of other things I’d rather be doing than researching culturally significant decorations for a god who I’d love to see dead—like making potions that will keep me from dying by his Champion’s hand—but at least I’ll be working with Lisari, and maybe I can use that opportunity to get some more Alchemy info out of her.

“Sounds good to me,” I say.

“Great.” Talia gathers up her things and departs as Lisari beckons me over. I suppress a groan as I see the stack of books Lisari has set aside to work through.

“Don’t you love research?” she asks. “I can lose myself in a good book for hours.”

“I was more into fiction,” I say, pulling up a chair next to her table. “Escape from reality and all that.”

“Was?” Lisari asks, tipping her head. “What did you have to escape from?”

I grab a giant book off her pile and thump it down in front of me. Widengra’s Conquests, the title reads. I wrinkle my nose at it.

“Cancer,” I say.

“Ah,” she says. “I’m sorry. I would never have guessed. You seem quite healthy now. It was curable, then?”

No. It ate me up until I was more cancer than me. Every moment spent loathing my own body, feeling intimately betrayed by myself. If you don’t even have control over your own limbs and organs, what can you be in control of? Memories of despair and helplessness wash over me, bringing tears to my eyes. I blink them back.

“Yeah, I’m not dealing with it anymore,” I say. “Can’t you guys just fix it with healing magic?”

“That’s a strange way to word it.” Lisari smiles softly. “But no, we can’t. Healing magic doesn’t work that way.”

“How does it work?” I ask.

“Well, I’m no Life arcana expert myself,” Lisari says. “But I also had plenty of healer consultations back… well, a long time ago.”

She taps the side of her glasses, the dark glass completely obscuring her eyes, but not her frown. “My parents wanted to fix it, but you can’t heal what isn’t wounded. I was born without fully formed eyes, and healing magic is really just a way to accelerate the natural process your body would go through, anyway. It might be able to assist with reattaching a limb, if you’re quick enough, but it can’t regrow one any more than it can shrink cancer or cause underdeveloped organs to finish developing.”

“Oh,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t be! I am very happy to be who I am, as I am. Other people seem to find it more bothersome than I do. People are funny like that, aren’t they?”

I grimace. “Funny’s a nice way to put it.”

She chuckles. “I try to give them the benefit of the doubt. Now, enough about me. We’re supposed to be doing research.”

I groan, looking at the stack. “Why do you even care about the gods so much? What have they ever done for you?”

“Quite a bit, actually.” Lisari puts a finger against her lips. “But that’s between me and them. You could try speaking to one yourself. Attend any of their shrines and who knows—they might be listening.”

“I don’t think they’re interested in talking,” I say. “Maru wasn’t, anyway.”

Lisari frowns slightly. “Yes, so you’ve said. Well, the God of War has always had a one-track mind. Incapable of examining matters complexly.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Isn’t that blasphemy? Everyone tells me I shouldn’t go around saying stuff like that.”

Lisari chuckles. “You’ve got me there. Words like those would certainly cause a stir in more polite society. However, in practice, it is perfectly safe to say such things, unless at a shrine or in the presence of a god yourself. They can’t be everywhere at once.”

“Good,” I say. “Then fuck the gods.”

Lisari laughs, shaking her head. “You know, they’re not all like Widengra—or his champion.”

I snort. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

“Well, allow me to enlighten you,” Lisari says, running her translator stone over the spines of a few books. She pulls one out from the middle of the stack. “Please stop me if any of this seems to break through your, ah, amnesia.”

Oh yeah. I need to be better at remembering that I’m not supposed to remember anything. Lisari certainly seems to doubt it, and after talking about my cancer diagnosis—which I probably wasn’t supposed to remember either—I don’t blame her.

“There’s dozens of gods, each with their own domains,” Lisari says, opening the book. She runs her interpreter stone over the pages, and it quietly reads off words as she flips to a chapter toward the beginning of the book. An illustration fills the page, depicting a white marbled temple adorned with gold and jade. The people in the temple might be dressed in extravagant clothes, but otherwise appear surprisingly mundane. Humans, orcs, harpies, dryads, and plenty more species I haven’t encountered before.

The one in the center is labeled Lorata, and her skin appears to be glowing with some internal light. In contrast, the man standing to her right, Shirasil, is dressed in black, accentuated with equally dark hair and smoking pits of darkness in place of eyes. But it’s the next god I can’t peel my gaze away from. Widengra, the text reads. The orc stands at least a head taller than Shirasil and Lorata, and twice as wide. Red tattoos swirl over his green skin. I burn his visage into my mind.

“They might reign over a concept, like war, or a kind of magic, like water,” Lisari continues. “Some are more powerful than others. Some are more proactive in their blessings. Most of these gods have several champions, usually between one and three, who carry out their will in the mortal realm. Like mortals, some are violent, some are indifferent, and some are kind.”

“I find that hard to believe,” I say. “If any of them cared, why would they allow gods like Widengra to go around murdering people?”

“Or rather, his champion,” Lisari corrects me. She shrugs. “It is rare to witness infighting among the gods, but every time it has happened throughout history, mortals were always the collateral. Perhaps it’s better for the gods to avoid conflict with one other if doing so means more mortals would die in the process.” She turns the page, displaying depictions of two beings fighting in the distance as a volcano erupts beneath them, lava raining down on the city below. Another page depicts a typhoon tearing through a town. Another one cratered by some impact.

“Those seem more like natural disasters than a result of some divine punishment,” I point out.

“Sometimes, the two are not so different,” Lisari says.

I cross my arms. “They still don’t sound very benevolent to me.”

“Not all are,” Lisari says with a shrug. “But I doubt anyone would speak ill of gentle Yua Tin, god of starlight, guide to all sailors searching for home. And Rinviu, god of the winds, has served me well. Meanwhile, I’ve never found Lorata and I see eye to eye.” She smiles at some inside joke. “Perhaps her insight is only apparent to those who can see as she does.”

“Does it actually help?” I ask, skeptical. “Praying to a god who is the patron of one of your arcana affinities?”

“It certainly can’t hurt,” Lisari says, which sounds like a no to me. “But yes, there have been times when the gods have bestowed advice, gifts, or powers onto a mortal when one catches their attention. That’s where the Champions come from, after all.”

“Don’t suppose any of them are the god of Poison?” I ask, mostly joking.

“Hm.” Lisari taps her chin. “Not directly, no. Not every niche field of magic has a corresponding god, though every major field of magic does. Poison’s umbrella field would be Life arcana, and the god of that is Kero. However, he has been known to favor the healing fields over the necrotic ones; poison might not be to his taste. I think you’d be better off following a god who represents values you aspire to embody. For instance, Widengra is often prayed to by hunters and warriors.”

And probably people in the Blackcloak guild, but I’m not about to pay any respect to that god.

“How about alchemy?” I ask.

“Perhaps Lorata, god of light,” Lisari suggests. “She’s most often associated with knowledge and study.”

“I thought you didn’t like her,” I point out.

Lisari chuckles. “I just said she hasn’t particularly been beneficial to me. But you’re right; I find her too… by the books, I suppose you could say. For Alchemy, it’s less about order, and more about change. Turbulence. Sometimes, experiments.” She smiles. “For that you might be better off with Shirasil, god of chaos.”

“Chaos?” I repeat. “Praying to a god of chaos while mixing potions doesn’t sound terribly safe.”

Lisari laughs. “No, I suppose not. But it does sound terribly fun, doesn’t it?”

I smile. Maybe I pegged her wrong and she’s not the celestial fangirl I originally thought she was.

“Well, thanks for the tip,” I say, “but I think I’ll leave the worship to more devout followers. I’m perfectly happy to figure all this magic out on my own.”

“Speaking of.” Lisari pulls another book out from the stack, this one much smaller than the others. “I’ve another book you can borrow if you have time. This one’s just potions that use Life arcana, so you should be able to create most of them, I think.”

“Thank you,” I say, excitedly taking the book. “I can’t wait to look through this. If only I had more time and mana to try everything out! This stupid mana constraint is slowing everything down.”

Lisari tips her head. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were dealing with something like that. Unfortunate.”

“Is it common?” I ask. “Are some people just unlucky when it comes to mana reserves?” It wouldn’t be the first time I was born without luck.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Lisari says. “Some species are predisposed to be naturally inclined toward magic—for others, the opposite. Humans tend to be the least magical; arachnoids, elves, and halflings tend to have the most.”

“Oh.” It just figures. Why would anything be easy for me, after all?

“However, as long as you have access to even a drop of magic, you can train yourself to increase that pool,” Lisari says.

I lean forward. “Really? How?” I’ve leveled up several times now, and my mana hasn’t gone up even a single point. I’ve been able to train up other skills and stats simply through repetition, but no matter how many potions I’ve made, nothing seems to move the dial for my magic.

“Various ways,” Lisari says. “There’s potions you can take that will temporarily expand your mana well. Items that will provide you with a larger pool of magic to pull from. Blessings from a god. As for permanent improvement, I’ve heard that casting spells and practicing attunements can also help exercise that muscle—though I do realize that attunements might be a bit difficult with Poison as your affinity.”

“Maybe,” I say, thoughtfully. Attunements are one thing I haven’t tried yet, because it requires you to be touching the element you are trying to attune. If I’d tried it before, the poison would have killed me. Now that I’ve built up a bit of an immunity though, I wonder if I could try again and be able to Attune at least a drop.

What could one do with Attuned poison, though?

I think I’d like to find out.

“Now,” Lisari says, clapping her hands together. “That’s enough talk. Talia promised you’d help me with the tournament prep today. Let’s get started.”