Meera followed Silas through the streets earning more stares, realizing she had forgotten to ask him about this.

"Why are they staring at me?" she whispered.

"Hmm," As if noticing for the first time. "Oh, that's because they've never seen a Varshan before."

"A what?"

"You look like a Varshan from the Varsha Empire. They rule most of Ealisto. I've never seen more bloodthirsty bastards. They raid and pillage their neighbors and kill any who dare come close to their empire. Their Godking has fashioned himself as well, a god and rules with an iron fist. A Varshan outside of their borders is never considered a good sign."

"So, what should I do?"

"Change your features and maybe get a shade lighter." Then he laughed at his joke, reminding her that he was indeed Cossus' brother. "In all seriousness, just stay out of trouble, and you should not get shanked in the night. They probably fear you more than you fear them."

Meera became weary of the looks she was getting, and whenever someone looked at her for longer than three seconds, she put her head down and pretended to be meek, which was not hard to do at all. After taking a few more turns around dusty streets, they finally arrived at a house made from wood. It lacked the decorations that its neighbors bore.

Silas banged on the door, loud enough to have everyone on the street stare at them. It took three more loud knocks for an old man to open the door.

"We're here to get healed," Silas said, smiling.

The old man squinted till his eyes were nothing but mere slits. "Never seen you before."

"Sure you have. I'm Nestor, Dion's brother."

"Dion…Oh, I know Dion. Good chap, where is he?"

Silas' face fell. "He died in Rothedon's Forest."

The old healer shook his head. "That is terrible news. I always liked the fellow."

"Can you heal us, please? We took some beatings in the fight and could use some of your magic."

"Yes, yes, come in. But I won't heal no Varshan."

"Varshan? I see no Varshan here, Doran. This is my friend, Meera. Yes, she's gotten tanned in the sun, but that's all."

Old man Doran squinted some more but finally nodded slowly. "Okay, come in, then."

They walked behind Doran, who walked at a snail's pace. He led them to an open-air veranda, with Mirithia shining down on them. He motioned them to sit on the rickety chairs, probably as old as him. Meera felt the legs of her chair would give if she moved too much, so she stayed very still.

"Now, what's wrong?" Doran asked.

Silas showed him the apparent gash and all the cuts, scraps, and bruises he got in the fight with the Alpha or otherwise. Doran touched each spot, and a green light emanated from his finger, and a moment later, Silas' cuts closed up, and his bruises vanished.

Then came Meera's turn. She didn't have any severe injuries, rather just minor inconveniences, but since they were here, she might as well get them healed. She got her shoulder and arms looked at first, then got her fingers looked at, which were riddled with splinters. Curiously enough, when he healed her fingers, all the splinters popped out.

She was good to go when Silas said, "Doran, check her wrists as well. She has pain in her wrists."

Meera frowned at him, but he nodded and mouthed, play along.

"Yes, it hurts terribly sometimes."

As Doran moved to grab her wrist, Silas hit her elbow, so her chakram slid, and he gripped them instead, cutting his finger.

"Yeow!" Doran cried and jumped in his seat. "Watch it, Varshan!"

"Not a Varshan," Meera corrected him.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

The old man grumbled as he healed himself first and then moved for her wrist, vary of the chakram. In the meantime, Meera checked her new notification hoping for something good.

*ding!*

[Class Ability activated. You have stolen the general skill—Potion Making. You have the knowledge of magical ingredients, alchemical processes, and precise measurements to create potions of different types. Would you like to acquire this skill?]

Meera's face fell as it was not what she wanted it to be, but at least she could make healing potions of her own, so it was not a total loss. Then she focused her attention on the wording of the skill description. It stated—to create potions of different types.

She looked up at the healer before her.

"Doran, have you any skills to create any potions?"

He paused to stare at her. "Of course I do. What kind of healer do you take me for?"

She glanced at Silas, who was frowning at her. She remembered what he had said before and decided not to say what was on her mind—that he could create any potion, not just healing potions.

"Can I buy a healing potion for the road?"

"Sure, sure. I've got one ready." He moved to pull the drawer from the table along the wall. "The lumberjack's boy never came to pick it up."

Meera quickly accepted the skill as he rifled through the drawer.

*ding!*

[You have acquired Potion Making – Level 1]

Doran came back with a small bottle. "That'll be five silver coins."

She looked to Silas, who held her share of the bounty. He fished the coins from his purse and dropped them in his palm.

"What if I want to make this myself in the wilderness?" Meera asked the healer.

"I see. Someone is trying to get the Potion Making skill." He snorted. "I can sell you the formula for another two silver coins."

"Sure."

He scribbled the ingredients on a piece of paper, and Silas handed him the coins. After saying the pleasantries, Silas and Meera headed out of there.

When they had walked down the lane a little bit, Silas asked, "What did you get?"

"Potion Making."

Silas winced. "Damn, his Healing Touch would have been perfect. I get the feeling you're not very lucky."

Meera felt like he had punched her in the gut. He was right. She was not very lucky, and unfortunately, Luck was not a skill, but she would be damned before she accepted that. "Why do you say that?"

"Because you've been getting sub-par skills aside from Eagle Eye. If you had gotten my Stealth skill, that would have set you up quite nicely, or even True Touch would have worked wonders for you in the search for your brother." He shrugged. "But hey, we must work with the tools we've got. Speaking of tools, let me show you how the mirror works."

They walked to the village's entrance. There seemed to be more people roaming about in the village, and of course, with more people came more stares. To the point she wanted to scream that she was not a Varshan.

She wondered how did Neel get away with it. It was not like he was any shades lighter than her. In fact, he was probably darker. Are the Varshans like my people back home because they live closer to the equator like us?

She looked up at Ealisto, and there it was the mostly frozen moon. Aside from a massive green line at the equator, it was frozen white.

A few dusty streets and a hundred stares later, they arrived at the mirror. She must have seen three geezers sigh simultaneously when they arrived at the mirror.

"To start, place a hand on the mirror like this." Silas placed his hand in the mirror. "And think of the place you want to go to. Let's say I want to go to the village of Westacre, on the other side of the continent."

Dots lit up all over the mirror. Then a golden light originated from the most left dot of the mirror and started connecting dots until it reached the dot on the right end of the mirror.

"You see all these dots. Those are the mirrors I have touched."

"Wow, you must have been to many places," Meera said.

"It was work, mostly," he replied. "Now, you see the golden light connecting the dots. That is the path I will be taking to arrive at Westacre. Of course, I won't be exiting and reentering. I won't even know I've gone through all these. For me, I'll just pop out at my destination. And up here is my Mana cost." He pointed to the number at the top right of the mirror.

It said—852.

Meera's eyes popped open. "You have that much Mana?"

Silas snorted. "If I had that much Mana, I could have fried the Alpha before it even knew I had moved. No, if I were going there, which I'm not. I would have to make several short trips. Focused bursts, rest for a day or so, let my Mana recover, and then move on. Also, I cannot take you. Midiea does not allow you to piggyback off someone else's Mirror points. In other words, I cannot take you with me anywhere, as you've never been to those mirrors before."

"Makes sense…somewhat."

"Now, you try."

He wiped his hand on the mirror. Meera placed her palm on the mirror, and only one dot lit up, which she figured was Belacre.

"See no other mirror points, so no mirror travel. So, whenever you see a mirror, always make sure to touch it. There are some in the wilderness as well. Midiea has strategically placed them, as she knows best. But be careful, some bandits place fake mirrors off the road to slit people's throats and take everything they have."

Meera's eyes widened at that.

"They also sometimes set up around real mirrors, but as long you're careful. You should be fine." He patted her back. Then placed a hand on the mirror again, and a moment later, the mirror's surface began to ripple again. "Oh, here's your share." He dropped a coin pouch in her hands. "That's a hundred and thirty-five silver coins. Should be enough for a while, and if not, pick up contracts of your own." He winked. "With that, I'm off."

"Already?"

"I didn't like the look in the headman's eyes. I better get out of here before I cause trouble for you as well."

"W-Will I see you again?"

He shrugged. "You might. You never know what Lorendor has written in our fortunes."

"Who?"

"I'll tell you the next time we meet." He winked and walked into the mirror without even saying goodbye.