I fell backwards in surprise when the blue box popped up in front of me.

“What the?!” I shouted.

“What?”

Millie swerved around, but she shut her mouth when she spotted my eyes staring into the empty air.

“It’s nothing,” I declared, staring at the blue box in shock. It was an automatic instinct to deny any information about new skills, and Millie knew better than to ask. That kind of conversation was reserved for partners, or lifelong friends.

A series of blue boxes blinked to life and vanished before my eyes.

[Foraging has reached tier 0.]

[Requirements to unlock Foraging(passive) have been added. 1/2 met.]

[Requirements to reach Foraging tier 1 have been added. 1/4 met.]

Passives…Tiers…

Memories threatened to flood my mind, but I pushed them aside. There was a far more important revelation being shown to me through these messages.

[Foraging] had taken me an entire year to learn in my past life. In this life, learning the skill had taken a minute.

That didn’t make sense.

“Was all that training for nothing? Unless,” I murmured, then cut myself off.

All skills required prior knowledge and experience in acting certain ways to unlock them. I didn’t just have the memories of my past five years, but also the experiences and the knowledge that came with them, which meant that I had already accumulated all that I needed to unlock the skill.

Which meant the skills I’d unlocked in my past life were just waiting for me to unlock them again now.

A glimmer of joy entered my heart. Then it became a tidal wave of exhilaration.

“Millie, let’s eat soon.” I tried to speak calmly, but I couldn’t hide the tremor of excitement in my voice. “By the way, are there any shartmuck weeds and howler plants nearby?”

“There are, but you can’t eat either of them unless you want to give yourself a mighty stomach ache,” she replied.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said.

The next few minutes of foraging were spent in a daze as I worked quietly next to Millie. While we worked, she told me about her life at the Mou estate, and it quickly became clear that she had never left the gardens.

“I enjoy foraging and gardening, but don’t you ever want to do something else?” I asked.

Millie paused. “I do wonder what I’d be able to do if I wasn’t here,” she admitted. “But my dad’s been working here all his life. And so did his parents. I’m just the next in line.”

I nodded and went back to my foraging, but the conversation didn’t end there. We chatted, and joked, and every now and then I would sneak a peek at my status screen, just to believe that what had happened was real, and that I hadn’t just imagined it.

Foraging (uncommon): You have started on the path. But the path to where? Most likely to be a gardener, but tending the fields of nature is a nobler profession than others would like to admit. Use your skill with pride.

Tiers:

Tier 0: Unlocked. Foraging will become a more instinctive process for you.

Tier 1: Locked. Forage four different types of produce to unlock. Requirements completed: 1/4.

Passives:

Tier 0 Passive: Locked. Forage four different items of produce to unlock. Requirements completed: 1/4.

Tier 1 Passive: Locked. Rank skill up to tier 1 to unlock requirements.

This was the standard screen for any skill, and I blanched at the cascade of information it sent my way. I’d pushed aside the incoming memories relating to passives and tiers, but now that I wanted them they were refusing to return.

I needed a way to jog those memories again.

“So, passives and tiers,” I asked Millie. “Somebody mentioned them before I got kicked out of the mansion. What are they?”

“Forgot everything and yet you go straight to asking about skill information. Running a bit fast for your lane, ain’t ya?” Millie smirked. “Tiers are simple. They’re just levels for skills. Passives are simpler. They just happen.”

I stared at her, and she rolled her eyes as she plucked another vegetable out of its patch.

“I’m a gardener, not a teacher,” she grumbled. “Fine, fine. Do you know what skills are?”

“Abilities, I think,” I said.

“Good, yeah,” Millie smiled. “Well, all skills have tiers, and each new tier grants a different passive effect.”

I nodded. “I wish I had a notebook right now.”

“You'll have to use that noggin of yours instead,” she replied without missing a beat. “Okay, okay, this is the important part. Each skill has a rarity, going from common up to legendary. And each classification of rarity determines how high a skill can rank up in tiers.”

As she spoke, I opened my status screen. I had two skills with rarities.

[Foraging] was uncommon.

[I Want To Go Back] was legendary.

“Let’s take that [Foraging] skill we talked about, for example. Its rarity is uncommon, so it can reach tier 3. If we include tier 0, then when fully unlocked, the skill will give you four passive effects. And I obtained that skill years ago and I’ve unlocked my tier 2 passive. For reference, common skills can only reach tier 2. So I’m pretty damned impressive.”

Millie puffed up with pride and looked pointedly at me. I clapped politely, but my head was spinning with this new information.

Common skills could reach tier 2. Uncommon skills could reach tier 3.

How high could my legendary skill go?

And if each new tier unlocked a different passive…

“My dad says those who succeed in life are the ones that obtain a high rarity skill, and then go up in tiers to obtain its passive effects,” Millie continued. “Passives are just boosts to what we can normally do. And they happen in the background, so you don’t need to think about their effect to use them. The System tells you what passives you have, and that’s why they just happen.” She frowned. “Or so my dad says.”

A tugging at my mind told me there was more to it than that, but Millie’s explanation wasn’t thorough enough to unlock whatever memory was trying to grab my attention.

That was probably a good thing because a severe headache was forming between my temples.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Thanks, Millie,” I smiled approvingly. “You’re the best.”

“Hey, my dad says that too,” Millie beamed.

I looked at my [Foraging] skill’s requirements. All I had to do to unlock my first passive was forage four different items. That was so easy it was almost laughable. A few minutes passed and I made sure to forage two different vegetables and one new type of fruit.

“Your status screen and any other System screen can be modified to suit your needs. I will now explain how you may do so,” Patriarch Mou said.

A flash of memory accompanied by Patriarch Mou’s voice entered my mind, and I moved my fingers instinctively to adjust the System’s screen to be more manageable. When I’d finished, I had modified the screen in exactly the way I’d wanted.

Foraging:

Rarity: Uncommon.

Tier 0: Unlocked.

Tier 1: Locked (2/4 requirements met. expand requirements? Y/N).

Passives: Tier 0 Passive: Locked (3/4 requirements met).

“Much better,” I said.

“You bet,” Millie replied, holding up a grass basket filled with vegetables and fruits. “‘I’m ready to eat. Are you good on your end?”

“Just one more fruit,” I smiled.

The moment I dislodged the fruit a new blue box appeared in front of me.

[You have foraged four different items of produce.]

[Congratulations! You have unlocked Foraging’s tier 0 passive.]

[Choose one of the following passives: Preservation, speed, or flavor.

Preservation: All items foraged will never fall below 25% of their base quality as determined by the state they were in when they were foraged.

Speed: Increases the speed of your foraging by 10%. This applies to foragable items of all quality and type. This applies to all types of movements and limbs.

Flavor: Increase the flavor of any foraged item by 25%. This will not make the item more amenable to the tastes of the forager.]

I snuck a peek to my side and spotted Millie staring at me intensely.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” she batted her eyelids innocently. “Some skills give you options for passives when you unlock them. But only uncommon and upward.”

Her mischief sparked glee in me. She was sneaky, but I kind of liked it.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said. “For later.”

“For later,” Millie repeated coyly.

I mulled over the choices. In my past life I’d chosen speed, but that had been a mistake. In life, the most important thing wasn’t the speed at which ingredients were obtained, it was the quality of the ingredients that I used.

[Forging passive (tier 0): All items foraged will never fall below 25% of their base quality as determined by the state they were in when they were foraged.]

I smiled. Excellent.

“So, you're an alchemist, right?” Millie asked.

“Huh?” I fell out of my reverie. “Oh, you mean an Alchemist’s Child?” I asked.

“No, like, a legitimate alchemist,” she replied. I turned to see her facing me with a curious glimmer in her eyes. “The kind that make potions and heal people.”

I opened my mouth to reply, then paused.

Was I an alchemist?

“You will all become alchemists. It is your duty.”

“But why?” I asked.

“Because throughout the entirety of this world, only Alchemist’s Children can become alchemists. That was why you are coveted, and that is why you are being hunted. There is no other path for you, and there never was.”

The Patriarch’s voice flashed through my mind, and I dismissed it with a shiver. Concern crossed Millie's expression, but I held my hand up to placate her as I thought.

In my past life, I'd only ever been taught the art of alchemy. And I'd been kicked out when I'd failed. I'd never even learned why only Alchemist’s Children could learn alchemy.

Now, I had a chance to break free of that manufactured destiny.

“Give me time to think about that,” I said. “For now, let’s eat, and then I’ve got to go gardening.”

“For shartmuck weeds and howler plants?” Millie asked. She lifted her basket and snatched two plants out of it, revealing them to me. “Yeah, I picked up a couple when you were busy staring into your System.”

I stared at the plants in her hands, “Millie, I could kiss you.”

“Don’t make promises unless you plan to keep them.”

****

One day later, I was ready. It was time to learn [Potion Creation].

Of course, I couldn't just do it in the middle of the gardens. There was a time and place for everything, and I knew exactly where I needed to be when I unlocked the skill.

Under the light of the morning sun I rushed through the gardens, past the employee lodge, and into the forest. Tonie and Millie were nowhere to be seen, so I ignored everyone around me, even the Mou household members.

After forty minutes of walking and a couple of nasty zaps from the wards, I spotted a familiar monstrous pig stuck in a pen.

“Oink,” Telula grunted.

I waved cheerfully at her. “Oink to you too.”

A movement to my front revealed my master standing outside of her cottage with her arms crossed.

“You’re back, traitor’s child,” my master’s normally shrill voice was gravelly now, and more somber in tone. “I hope you didn’t mistake my kindness for weakness. This time I might kill you.”

Her words were sharp, but when I stepped forward, she didn’t move to stop me. I took another step, and then another. Finally, I was nearly face-to-face with her, staring directly into her opal eyes, and I could feel the breeze picking up around me, ready to throw me out of the forest again. She was hiding another pill in her hands, but she hadn't crushed it yet.

With grace and respect, I dropped to my knees, sinking into the dirt. Then I placed my forehead on the ground and bowed.

“That’s it, you’re out of here,” my master’s tone was a mixture of bemusement and exasperation.

The wind picked up at her words, and I knew that she had started crushing the pill that would expel me from the forest.

“In three weeks Patriarch Mou’s three children will face the Death March. Two of them will die. And he will take it out on the servants and those who stay in his territory.”

Hesitation stopped her from crushing the pill, and I raised my head to face her.

“They are innocents, and I want them to live. Please, help me.”

“You want to save children from the Death March?” My master snorted, but her eyes softened. “That requires skills I do not have, and I can see that you don’t have them either. And do not claim otherwise, I know. Do not ask how, but I do.”

“I understand,” I said. “[Potion Creation] is what’s needed to save them. I don't know why, but I do know that much.”

As I gazed upon the cottage a memory tugged at my mind, and I frowned. It was trying to tell me something, but when I accepted the memory, all I saw was a flash of vials and baubles, as well as a box filled with glowing blue dust.

I had a feeling that whatever I was seeing could help me. I just didn’t know what it was.

Still, I trusted my memories.

“I think you know what I need, and furthermore, I think you have the materials needed in your care,” I added.

Her eyebrow twitched at my words. “What do you know of what I have?”

“Only that I can use your stockpile to save others, so long as I obtain the [Potion Creation] skill,” I said.

“Those are bold words spoken from the boy who claims to be the traitor’s son. You dare mention [Potion Creation]? Do you even know what you’re talking about?” my master scowled. “Once, it was a common skill among alchemists. However, that was before your father began his crusade to exterminate all the others in his profession. Now, [Potion Creation] is rarer than an epic skill, and those who have it are unwilling to share that knowledge for fear of being hunted down and killed. Or worse, entrapped as slaves.”

The Alchemist had done what?!

If she was telling the truth, then it was something I hadn’t learned in the five years of memories [I Want To Go Back] provided me.

“Is that why only Alchemist’s Children can learn alchemy?” I blurted out the question.

My master shifted, and her stone forehead creased in confusion. “You are mistaken. For all those that he felled, two more would usually take their place. To prevent that, the Alchemist didn't just kill those who owned the skill, he sealed it off entirely from the System. Nobody can learn [Potion Creation]. That is the second of the two great crimes of the Alchemist, and why he is hunted by the world.

If you wish to learn it to save some children, then you need to kill your father with your own hands. Then, you’ll need years of practice,” my master finished. “And I will not teach the traitor’s son.”

What she was saying didn't make sense. I knew it was possible to learn the skill. I’d done it in my past life. All the Alchemist’d Children had.

“The Alchemist is not my father, that was a misunderstanding that I’ll be able to explain, if given the chance,” I said. “As for the skill, well, I’m asking for a lot from you. It’s only right that I give some trust back.]

I dug my hand into the rags I called my clothes, and my master’s posture shifted cautiously. But what I took out was two tiny plants, the same ones that Millie had gathered for me. One was a common shartmuck weed that grew everywhere and strangled the flowers. It had a large brown bulb that looked like a ball of mud growing from its tip that would explode when stepped on.

The other plant was a flower with a spread of rainbow petals and a stem as thick as my wrist. I was careful not to let its oiled prickles touch my skin. If I grazed them, I’d be howling in pain for the next half hour. That was why it was called a howler.

In my last life, I'd found that out the hard way.

I cut into the howler’s soft stem with a sharp twig, allowing its sap to flow free. My hand trembled as I raised the dripping stem over the shartmuck bulb, letting a single drop fall inside. The liquids writhed and churned as they came into contact, but the bulb stayed intact. After a few seconds, the liquids merged with each other, and the brown liquid in the bulb turned bright blue.

Two blue notification boxes appeared in my vision.

[You have created a Tonic of Stemmed Bleeding: Tier 0, low-rank. Ingredients: Shartmuck and howler juice.]

[Congratulations! You have unlocked the skill: Potion Creation (uncommon).]

My master’s eyes grew wide. The two opal stones conveyed emotions too complex for me to understand. “But how is this possible?” She whispered. “The skill requires years of effort to unlock, it cannot be done in the blink of an eye.” She shifted, her gaze narrowing. "Did you wait to meet me, putting it off until you were sure the skill would unlock?” My master asked.

“That’s impossible, I can't know when my skill will unlock,” I replied. “And I can truthfully say I’ve never created a tonic or potion before today.”

“What you’ve just done should be impossible,” She shot back. My master’s hair swirled in the breeze as she shook her head. “I've always been able to see those who have [Potion Creation]. Did you know that?”

“Curious, isn’t it?” I asked, smiling playfully. “Some would call it a coincidence for the ages.”

“Enough games. What did you do?” My master stepped forward, her tone growing with a mixture of concern and demanding.

“That’s a long story,” I replied. “But one I would be willing to share with a respected teacher.”

My master’s posture hardened, her gaze giving nothing away. The breeze picked up around me, and I tensed, wondering if I’d failed. Then she sighed, and lowered her arms to her sides, and the wind died down.

“Get up kid,” my master said. “I’ll hear you out, just this once.”

I once again dipped my forehead down onto the ground, but this time it was to hide the beaming grin spreading over my lips.

“Once again, this disciple greets his master.”