"See this stone?" I show Nolan the small rock I conjured, and the two-year-old examines it. "Can you pick berries that are the same size as this stone or bigger from the bushes? Only those berries. They'll come off easily, all you need to do is grab and lightly pull. Then, put them into the basket here."

Nolan looks at the basket, then at the stone, then at his father.

"I'll help," Dylan tells him before raising an eyebrow at me. "This is really what you want help with?"

"There are a lot of berries to pick," I tell him. "And I need to pick herbs that are just right, and harvest mushrooms from the cave as well. Both of those require more attention to detail than the berries, since you can base it on size alone for those."

"Cave?" Dylan asks.

"It's over at the cliff," I tell him.

"Did you make it?" His confusion is pretty strong, indicating he's probably looked at the cliff before.

"I take it you've been along the cliff, then?"

"A few times," he confirms. "Though we don't really go far from our home. Nolan doesn't like trips away from it. Makes him nervous. Makes foraging hard, but I do have a small garden and can sometimes catch fish from the pond. Our diet's mostly potatoes."

Even if plant growth is high in the area, that doesn't mean it's easy to feed yourself. If you don't have the foods close by and can't travel too far to forage, your options are still limited. That explains how skinny the two of them are.

"Don't remember seeing a cave there before," Dylan tells me.

"It was hidden by a bush," I explain. "And the opening was small. I cleared out the slime monsters inside and expanded it, as it's a suitable spot for growing mushrooms for mana potions. I'm going to go collect those. Will be back in a few minutes."

"Okay," he crouches down beside the bushes. "Come on, Nolan. Let's gather the berries."

I grab a basket of my own and use [Telekinesis] on a bundle of branches, logs, and plants, then walk over to the cave. Inside, the walls are once again slick with moisture and some algae has formed on the ground. It seems that when I expanded the cave, I also opened it up into a spot where water drips a little more freely as well. A little bit toward the northwestern curve of the wall, a small dip has formed from water dripping. It's only about a quarter of an inch in size now but could potentially expand to create a small pond rather than a tiny puddle.

Plenty of mushrooms have grown, and I harvest the ones of a good size before spreading out the additional plant matter I've brought in. All of the sticks and logs in it were starting to decay a little, while the rest will decompose in here just fine. Leaves and such don't take as long, after all, and the process is a little quicker in here than it would be in most places outside of a region like this one.

When I return to the cabin, Dylan has exasperation in his mind.

"I know you're hungry," he says. "But don't eat the berries, Nolan. I think he wants them for potions, so they'll probably make you sick. And if you eat them, then he won't be able to use them."

The kid probably got too hungry to wait for food and started eating some of the berries before his dad caught him.

"They're safe for eating," I say, causing Dylan and Nolan to jump. "They're similar to blueberries in flavor and make quite the delicious pie. I do want them for alchemy, though, as they're a good reagent for mana potions. The ones around here are high in quality, too."

I set the basket of mushrooms on the table I built just for alchemy, then gather some herbs and set them on that table as well. Dylan and his son gathered a fair few berries, and I help them collect the rest. Nolan's doing his best to compare berries to the pebble I gave him, though he does pick some which are a little bit smaller. That won't be a problem, though.

"After I brew up some potions," I say. "I'll fix us all some food to eat."

"Not before?" Dylan frowns. "Didn't you say you could make it sooner?"

"I did," I say. "But I think Nolan's a bit curious about what all of this is for. Aren't you, little guy?"

Nolan gives me a bashful look before burying his head against his father's chest again.

I begin working on the potion once Nolan looks over again, and Dylan watches with interest as well. A little bit of confusion enters his mind as I work, and it's only once I finish and am examining the blue-colored liquid that he finally decides to ask.

"That just looked like cooking," he says. "How does it make potion instead? No magic happened. There aren't even chunks in the juice."

[Mana Potion] A potion of liquid mana, which can be easily ingested and which will immediately restore the user's mana. Dose: 1 oz Content: 189 Mana

A higher quality potion than the first time I made them. The herbs and mushrooms were slightly-better in quality this time; the herbs because I fertilized them a little and the mushrooms because they had better matter to grow on. Magic does quite a lot for growth, but that can be boosted further with the normal farming and gardening methods as well.

With how much I was able to harvest today, I was able to brew up nearly a gallon of this, too.

"If you took these three reagents," I pour the potion into jars. "And simply cooked them together like a stew, you'd get food. The process for alchemy is very similar to cooking, after all. If you know what you're doing, however, you can turn it from cooking to brewing. Mistakes can actually turn it into food or drink rather than a potion. Beginners are recommended to work with less-rare reagents at first because of that."

"Those are rare?" Dylan looks over at the bush. "Don't those grow all over?"

"All over this region, yes," I answer. "But that's because of the amount of mana within the Mistwood and how it leaks into the surrounding areas. The reagents for this need a lot of mana to grow properly so if you manage to find them too far away from a mana-rich environment, they'll be pretty low in quality."

"Oh."

I finish bottling things, then clean everything before beginning on lunch.

"That's… a lot of meat," Dylan says as I open one of the crates. "Wait. Are all of those crates filled with meat?"

"Yeah," I answer. "I could probably dispose of some of it, or sell it, I suppose. But it's all meat. These crates here contain meat from stoneseeker wolves, while that one contains rabbit meat, that one's fowl, and that one's fish."

"You eat wolf meat?" He asks. "Isn't that dangerous?"

If it were a normal wolf, there's a chance of disease. That chance is significantly lower for magical wolves like stoneseekers.

"Not if you know how to purify it," I replace the lid to the crate after removing a wrapped chunk. "Which I do, and which I did to all of it."

"Oh."

I begin working on something for us to eat, Dylan and Nolan watching intently.

"Is it okay to ask what brought you out here?" Dylan asks after a few minutes.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"I wanted to retire and live a calmer, more slow-paced life," I answer. "And I was informed that this area is where my parents are from."

"The Wizard and the Witch?"

Not a bad guess, with what limited knowledge someone from the sticks might have.

"Not the mages," I tell him. "There are several reasons they can't be my parents. I was dropped off at an orphanage in the capital at birth, for starters. As far as I'm aware, my parents moved away from here. I just want to learn a little about the area my parents are from. And with how much mana is in the area, it's kind of perfect for me as a magus."

"Oh."

He's quite for about half a minute as I continue working on lunch. I can tell he's curious about something, though, and he decides to ask… once he can stop staring at my face.

"You said there were multiple reasons?"

"Yeah," I say. "If the local mages really are centuries in age as you said, then they'd had to have deliberately conceived me. That's not the sort of child you'd dump at an orphanage."

"Oh, right," he says. "With how old they are, the Witch would've been long-past the natural point, wouldn't she have been?"

"Not necessarily," I say. "But that's not the reason."

Before getting into the reason, I explain bloodlines to him, how one's blood code is affected by the Skills they increase throughout their life.

"And what they are when you conceive a child affects that child's abilities a little," I finish. "Though having Level 15 in a single Skill and no one else for the next four generations developing it at all has a greater effect after five generations than if everyone for five generations had Level 3 in it."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," I say. "And the thing about bloodlines… they affect your compatibility with others as well. Reproductive compatibility, I mean. You're more likely to have a child with someone with similar Skill Levels as yours than someone who doesn't. The more different your Skills and your bloodline are, the more difficult it is to have a child.

"For the simple Skills," I continue. "The ones not directly related to magic, the effect is ever so slight. In an area like this, most people are farmers so you wouldn't really notice unless you married someone who wasn't one. Even then, it might just seem a little bit more difficult."

"Ah," he's not fully understanding it but can understand the basics. This isn't exactly within the realm of learning for simple farmers so the concept is mostly new to him. I don’t know enough about livestock breeding, or if he's dealt with that properly, to be able to explain it in terms which might make more sense to him. "But since they're both mages, wouldn't that mean-"

"Nope," I say. "Know how mages live longer lives than normal people? That's because the use of mana affects your body to some degree. This affects your bloodline to a degree as well, increasing the differences. The more you use magic, the less compatible you become with others. Even the spells you cast cause differences, so two mages who use the same school of magic start finding themselves incompatible.

"Basically," I say. "Once you reach a total of 5 Levels in magical Skills, the only people you'll be able to have kids with are mages of similar types. After 10 Levels in them, it becomes almost impossible. At 15 Levels, well… good luck having a kid naturally.

"That's why nobles tend to have one or two kids by the time they're twenty," I add. "Their kids grow up learning magic and have enough of a bloodline influence that they can reach Level 5 in a single magical Skill, possibly two, by the time they turn twenty. It's more and more difficult to have a kid after that point and they almost can't once they're twenty-five. So they start trying pretty fast once they're old enough for it, to make sure they get the kids in before it's too late."

"Seriously?" He asks. "Wait – I heard the king had his son when he was nearly sixty."

"There's a 25,000,000c potion which can enable reproduction between two incompatible people," I tell him. "I've never made it, but I spoke with a mage who has. She needed some of the reagents and trust me when I say that they are not easy to acquire – and brewing the potion is extremely finnicky as well. It might take several attempts."

Dylan thinks about that for a little while, his son still focused on watching me cook. The little guy's too young to understand what we're discussing so he gave up and has his eyes on the food instead.

"So that's why your parents ain't the Wizard and the Witch," he says. "They're centuries in age, so they'd need the potion to have a kid."

"And if you're going through that trouble to have one," I say. "You're not going to give him to an orphanage. Also, you've been calling them by 'witch' and 'wizard' this discussion. I know you're used to it… but it really is an offensive term."

"How come?" He frowns.

"That's what mages were called in ancient times," I explain. "A thousand years ago, spellcasting was… inferior to what it is now. The term 'mage' was invented around seven hundred or so years ago to differentiate between the new 'modern' magic and the old 'inferior' magic. If you call a mage a witch or a wizard, then you're claiming they're awful spellcasters who don't belong using magic."

Dylan winces.

"A lot of commoners don't know the difference," I add. "So it's understandable you might not have known. But it really is offensive, so I ask that you try not to use them around me."

My tone must have been a little more harsh than I intended as I can sense the mental flinch he has and it's a lot worse than the slight grimace he makes in response.

"I'll try."

I finish making lunch for us, then serve it. Nolan examines it curiously, a little worried about the food. It's something he's never had before so he's not sure what it is or if it's safe to eat.

"It's called 'pasta'," I say. "I learned it from a chef from the Goldelm Kingdom."

"From there?" Dylan asks. "Aren't we at war?"

Just like with Thomas.

"I didn't meet him there," I say. "And while we were at war then, he was pretty grateful to me for saving him from a goblins' net trap."

"Ah."

"As for the topping," I say. "It's stoneseeker wolf meatballs with a tomato, onion, and herb sauce."

Dylan nods and takes a bite, while Nolan continues to stare at it, uncertain. With how hungry he is, Dylan eats pretty fast. The food I made isn't some complex thing and he probably had similar foods before he was essentially exiled. The ingredients are all local, just put together a little differently.

If I made myself a proper stove, I could probably enhance the flavors to a higher-quality than the locals are used to. I'm used to that, but am trying to go with just wood fires for now since that's what the locals will no doubt be using. Either over an actual fire or in a wood fire stove.

Just to actually experience it.

Dylan's finished eating and I'm about halfway done with my plate before Nolan reaches out and picks up the fork in front of his plate. He stabs at one of the meatballs and shoves it into his mouth, getting a lot of sauce on and around his lips. His eyes widen and he starts chewing a bit fast. Since he went for the full piece, it's probably a good thing I made his meatballs a little bit smaller than ours.

"Chew slower," Dylan tells his son. "You might choke."

Nolan looks up at his dad and starts chewing a little bit more slowly. He eats all of the meatballs and tries a piece of the pasta, but decides he doesn't want to eat the rest. His dad finishes the plate off for him, then ruffles the boy's hair.

"Did you like it?" Dylan asks, and Nolan nods. "Can you tell Rowan 'thanks'?"

Nolan looks at me and I can tell he's grateful from his mind. He really enjoyed the food. A small peek into his thoughts reveals that he finds the meal "better than 'tatoes and Papa's fish". Judging by the rest of the thoughts in that sentence, they don't eat fish very often. It's mostly potatoes, potatoes, and more potatoes.

"He doesn't talk," Dylan tells me, though I kind of already guessed that by now. That's part of why I'm comfortable peeking into his mind to know what he wants to say. "But he probably does want to thank you."

"You're welcome, Nolan," I say. "And you're looking a little sleepy, aren't you?"

He climbs back into his dad's lap and presses his head against Dylan's chest, holding onto his dad while closing his eyes.

"If your dad wants," I say. "You can use my bath. It's a hot bath and there's soap for body and hair, so you can get extra-clean while relaxing."

"Oh, no," Dylan shakes his head. "That can't be cheap to maintain. I can't afford something like that, I-"

"The cost for me was making it," I tell him. "The enchantments I set up for it draw on some of the mana from the air to fuel themselves, so I have no cost to maintain. All I need to do is occasionally add a little bit more water. You seem decent enough and the forest spirits like you, so I don't mind."

"The forest spirits like me?" He asks. "How can you tell? I mean, I know I saw some spirits in your bath earlier, but those weren't forest spirits, were they?"

"I can see spirits that aren't fully manifested," I say. "And there's been one sitting on your shoulder the entire time you've been here. He wouldn't do that if he didn't like you and if one spirit of a type likes you, all probably do."

A competitive curiousness fills his mind when I explain that, in addition to surprise.

"Do they like Thomas, too?"

He's hoping to one-up Thomas, probably because of the way Thomas views him and his son over the supposed curse.

"He and the chief are both liked by the spirits," I say. "Thomas seems to be liked by the earth spirits more, though the nature spirits do like him as well."

Disappointment fills his mind, and the curiosity in Nolan's lets me know all I need to know.

"They like you, too," I let the little guy know, and his mind fills with happiness. "There's one hanging out with you as well."

Dylan now accepts the offer for the bath, so the three of us wash up and take one. Nolan feels very, very strange as his father scrubs him clean, not sure if he likes it better than the wipe-downs with hot water and a rag he normally gets. Once he's in the bath, though, he relaxes pretty fast and watches the earth spirit gently floating on its back in front of him.

It takes almost no time at all for Nolan to fall asleep, though Dylan stays in the bath a little bit longer than that, holding his son to keep the boy's head from going under.

"If you want," I say. "You can put him down for a nap in the cabin so you don't have to deal with carrying a sleeping boy for a mile. I don't mind you guys sticking around a little longer. If you step out onto the washing area, your feet will dry off without the towel."

"Thanks."

Dylan carefully lifts his son out of the bath and gets out, then grabs one of the towels I hung up for us and dries the two of them off. Nolan wakes for that and once he has pants back on and in his dad's arms once more, he snuggles up against his father's chest and falls back asleep.

After putting his son in the cabin, Dylan comes back out and contemplates something instead of entering the bath again.

"Will you have sex with me?" He asks.

That was blunt.