It was a system message. He must have gotten it while he was studying, and completely ignored it. He was excited. It had been days since the last message; he wondered which skill had increased this time.

The ethereal box opened with fanfare at his touch.

[Analyze has risen to level 8] [Your Wisdom has increased by one point.]

“Finally!”

A week of continuous learning and the skill finally ended the silence with good news. If he was tired before, then he no longer felt it. His mind had refreshed. He looked over his shoulder at the bedding by the window and smirked. “You can’t stop me today.” He mumbled and turned his head back around to face the corner with the dancing lights. He had deliberately placed his bedding there, believing he would not be able to concentrate if it was placed in his line of sight. And he was right. The evening his father brought the bedding, he didn’t practice mana sense and slept till noon the next day. The Witch had a few words to say about it, and he felt awful the whole day afterward.

Next, he inspected himself, to check his growth. He needed only to speak the word ‘Inspect’ and the status appeared in front of his eyes. This is how the Witch knew his status. She could also use the skill without needing to touch the target. There was nothing magical about it.

Name: Mannat (12y,11m,8d)

Level: 0 (0% exp)

[Class: None] / [Job: Blacksmith Apprentice(1)]

Mana: 80/85

Mana regeneration: 16/hour

Stamina: 16

Title: Child of Life

Strength: 8

Intelligence: 17

Perception: Low-Low

Dexterity: 5

Wisdom: 16

Endurance: Low-Low

Constitution: 8

Luck: 1.2

Willpower: Low-Medium

Skills:

Intelligence:

Focus(10), Inspect(6), Healing Strike(1)

Wisdom:

Analyze(8), Mana Sense(8)

Others:

General fitness(10), Vigor(9), Blueprint library(0)

Ailment: None

The physical side of his stats remained unchanged, but his mental skills had risen by a total of 4 points in the past week. It was an unprecedented amount of growth considering a skill like ‘Analyze’ had been in slumber for years. Four in one week, and eight in the next three; he would get the job done if he could to keep the pace. However, Mannat wasn’t very excited. He knew how treacherous the last few levels could get.

He worried that the skill, Inspect, which still had four levels to get through, would be the one to hold him back. The garden might raise the skill by another level, but it would definitely not take it over the limit.

Therefore, it was time to take the decision, to ask the Witch about other ways, or to allow him to go to the village. Of course, he wasn’t planning to run away. Not only had he just started to read the books but was also far from being able to sense mana inside others.

Most importantly, his mother was there, sleeping under the tree. He needed the Witch’s help to cure her.

There was time until evening. His father wouldn’t be coming for another couple of hours. He had to leave that day. It was a race with time. Making his mind, he stood up and went to the raven. He didn’t know where the Witch usually went in the day or at other times –she liked to be mysterious—but he figured the raven would know -- after all, it was her bird.

The blackbird instantly opened its red eyes when he drew near it. She opened her small black mouth, flared her wings to their maximum length to deter his ideas, and shrieked in the loudest voice possible. That ear-grating sound would have easily scared away a large predator, but Mannat didn’t wasn’t there to hurt her anyway. He stopped a short distance from her and said, “I want to talk to the witch.”

The raven snarled again as if telling him to stop pestering and go back to his seat. It was annoying, but Mannat didn’t let off either.

“I have to ask the Witch if I can go back to the village for the evening. My practice is in a bottleneck. I need to find other ways to improve my skills.”

He could see a glint of intelligence in the raven’s eyes. It was, like most ravens, a very intelligent bird, and it had shown a hint of it by following the Witch’s order to keep him away from the garden at nights.

However, Mannat was still left surprised when it gave him an affirmative nod before flying out of the door. The door hadn’t been closed since he had taken perch inside the hut. No wonder some dirt had again accumulated on the floor. He hadn’t found time to clean the floor and dust the hut in the past week. Since he didn’t have the mind to study, he decided to get on with it. He was too anxious to get any work done, anyways.

The Witch arrived just in time as he finished cleaning the room. Perhaps, she had been standing there for who knows how long and Mannat simply hadn’t noticed her presence. It was possible.

The cleaning had barely taken him a couple of minutes so he possibly hadn’t kept her waiting for too long. However, he lost his calm when he saw her. His heart did a jump inside his chest and almost few out of his mouth. He had to say, she looked creepier in the shadow with light coming from behind her. It was almost impossible to see her true self in the night, but in the day, she was a sight to fear.

Mannat coughed to clear his blocked throat –he couldn’t utter any words—and went straight to her side. There was an eager spark in his chest wanting to grow out. He happily let it bud a fire.

“I want to leave,” Mannat said. He was compact, precise, and utterly dumbfounded at the coldness of his voice. He didn’t give the reason. One could say he was confrontational and wanted to see the witch’s bottom line. It was like bargaining with a merchant for his freedom. He didn’t think she would give him total freedom, but he would confront her for a better deal. He wouldn’t be angry even if she disagreed.

This is why he was shocked silly when the Witch answered with nonchalance. “I thought you’d never leave.”

For a moment Mannat thought he’d heard wrong. Then smiled like a baby chick taking its first flight, before growing nervous and thoughtful.

“I am not quitting.” He hurriedly explained. “I only want to leave to find a better way to improve ‘Inspect’. I’m improving too slowly in the garden. I don’t think the skill will reach its limit here in time.”

The witch stared at him without blinking with her bright, but sunken yellow eyes, and sneered at him. “Foolish boy,” She stressed the first word. “I know what you want to do. I am telling you to do whatever you want.”

“Oh…” Mannat didn’t take grievance over her tone. That’s who she was: rude, brisk, and blunt. “Well, thank you then.” He nodded and was about to leave when another voice rose inside his head. “Why not see mother before you go?” The voice said calmly, deliberately pushing him toward the well of death; and Mannat fell to its trap.

“Mother…” The word squeaked out of his throat. It came out sharp and low, like spoken while being strangled. The witch raised a brow in question. Do you want more? It seemed to be asking.

Mannat though bit his lower lip, didn’t drop his head, and asked looking straight into her eyes. “Can I see my mother, please?” He wasn’t polite and it wasn’t a request.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Be strong. That is what his father had taught him. Never drop your head in fear. Admit your mistakes and keep your mind empty. Let your heart do the talking.

When Raesh told him these words, he was talking about how to forge a good piece, but Mannat found them well-fitting in the situation.

He wanted the Witch to agree, even more so than this first request. The Witch had left him with a dangling carrot that he couldn’t reach. Though she had never given him the stick, he inherently understood the difficulty of her tasks was no shorter than a knife hanging over his neck.

Even an animal forced to work requires some sustenance from time to time, and Mannat had just reached the peak of his mental resistance. The Witch might have agreed to his first request, but he would never be at peace without seeing his mother once. He had to know if she was still in the underground chamber, alive and asleep.

The Witch’s eyes softened. The change was loud enough for Mannat to notice. He was sure she was deliberately showing him the changes to calm his nerves, but he didn’t care. She could play all the games she liked, he only wanted her to agree to his request this once and he’d be thankful to her.

“Why not,” The witch said and a weight lifted from Mannat’s shoulders. The Witch continued, “Even a donkey laden with weight needs some sustenance. Come,”

The Witch turned and slowly swayed toward her staff that was still standing in the same place she had left it. Mannat had tried moving it a few times previously, but he had failed to budge it. Pulling it out was almost impossible, kind of like the carrots in the garden. Maybe there was a reason behind it, but he was far from understanding the metaphysical.

Anyways, the Witch stopped in front of the staff and put a hand on its globular crystal head. She didn’t pull it out of the ground, simply touched it and it started glowing. A blue light faintly drained from its head and entered the ground. This time, a ring of light separated from the stick swelled and seeped into the ground.

Then with Mannat’s excitement came the tremors, the wind, and the gurgling of dirt as it lost the bind of roots, which swirled and drilled their way out of the ground, opening a doorway to the underground garden. Mannat had called it many things, but it was the first time he thought of the place like a garden. The Garden was indeed a fitting description for the place.

Nothing had changed there in the past week. He believed the garden would remain the same forever if the tree managed to stand the anger of time. Mannat’s feet glide over the stone steps and sped up when he saw the rainbow light at the bottom of the stairs. The chamber was a good ten meters under the ground. There was no chance of anyone finding it so deep underground unless they knew exactly where to look.

Through the archway, he arrived at the lush colorful underground garden. It was warm there and filled with soft ever-changing light. The floor had not an inch of free space where he could see the ground. Various flowers, dandelions, and clovers created a carpet that filled the chamber with a sweet and mesmerizing fragrance. At the middle of the chamber was the womb made of roots. The Flower of Morality slept inside it in a fetal position, without a hint of life. A dark speck at her right breast tainted her body with malice. Underneath it, between the roots laid his mother in equal peace and calm.

Mannat’s lips trembled when he saw her bright and glowing face. She looked to have shed some years in age. The lightning marks at the edge of her eyes had fainted in depth. Her skin looked smooth as a baby’s skin.

There were more thin roots and tendrils penetrating her skin than he remembered. Fortunately, he could hear his mother’s faint breath and see the rise and fall of her bare breast.

Unable to bear her silence, Mannat went forwarded and kneeled beside her. He sensed the roots moving toward him but ignored them completely.

He put his hand on hers and softly said, “It’s your son, mother,”

She was warm to the touch but seeing her motionless made him cold inside. He sat beside her for some time and read her the story he’d read in the day. The witch hadn’t gone down with him, so there was no one there to disturb them.

He was telling his mother about his plans when the Witch’s voice fell upon his ears.

“Come out! Your Father is coming!” The reminder broke Mannat from the trance. He tightly held his mother’s hand, afraid to let go. It could possibly be the last time he was seeing her.

“I’ll treat you, mother.” He said through gritted teeth. “I have already taken the first step. I know you and father don’t want me to associate with the Witch, and therefore I’m sorry. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go like this. Wait for me. I’ll help you. We’ll be a family again.”

Kissing her forehead, he stood up and slowly walked out of the chamber. He looked back once from the archway, then the stairs. His eyes were full of determination when he reached the surface. The Witch wasn’t there to greet him. As for the hole in the ground, it simply caved in behind him. The roots retreated underground and closed the entrance on the way, hiding it once again behind a veil of unearthed ground.

His father arrived a few minutes later and Mannat went to greet him. Bhadur smiled upon seeing the boy. The horse snorted and pushed his head into Mannat’s chest, causing him to stumble back and giggle aloud. Mannat looked for his father and heard some rumbling on the back of the cart. Raesh was there, pulling out something big and heavy own from the cart.

What could it be?

Mannat held Bhadur’s reins and tilted his head to the side to get a clear look, but he couldn’t see anything.

“Wait here,” Mannat told the horse. Bhadur saw him leaving and bit his shirt to hold him back.

“Stop it. I will come back. Wait a minute.” Mannat somehow freed himself and ambled to the back of the cart.

“What is it?” he called, and his eyes opened wide when he saw the thing.

It was a huge wild boar with two equally daunting fangs curling up around its lips. They were larger than his hands. The boar was humongous, almost the size of a newborn calf, though tougher and meaner looking. It was dead though. A long, bloody, and gory gash had opened up its back. There was another stab wound in front of its chest. The wound was still bleeding. It was probably what had killed it.

“You didn’t buy it!” Mannat analyzed and Raesh looked at him with a grin. His mustache had grown back, and it covered his lip like a bush. He had groomed it even. It was shiny and brown, but he had kept his face shaven clean.

Raesh slapped the boar’s stomach and said, “It attacked us on the way. Poor thing must have been frightened. It had the wound on its back when it met us. I guess it took us for its hunters and attacked us without warning. It was intelligent too, went straight for Bhadur’s legs. Another horse would have lost its legs, but the boar met its match in our friend.” He gave the cart a slap and Bhadur neighed upfront and shook his head in nonchalance.

“He’s jumpy. I guess he’s hasn’t calmed down yet.” Raesh said. Then he went back to fetch the boar, but Mannat hurriedly stopped him.

“Don’t pull it down, father.”

“Hmm…” Raesh looked up, confused. “Why? Don’t you want to eat it? You think it’s too much for the two of us?”

“There’s that,” Mannat grinned harder. He couldn’t hide it anymore. “Also,” He said with a dry throat, “I’m going back with you today.”

Mannat heard a thump and then his father stood up, eyes wide open at first before they squinted.

“Did something happen?” Raesh said walking over to Mannat’s side. “Did the Witch hurt you?” He looked over the boy and checked him from limb to limb, but didn’t see any signs of physical abuse. He got confused again.

Mannat cooperated completely. His father wouldn’t believe him if he refused. However, he also needed to come clear. “I am not running away,” Mannat said. Raesh paused and looked over at the boy's face. There really was no fear in those green straight eyes. Mannat continued. “My training has entered a bottleneck. I can’t improve my skill ‘inspect’ anymore, and need to find some alternative methods.”

“So you are coming back to the smithy?” Raesh said with a chirp in his voice. Mannat nodded.

Raesh couldn’t believe it. “What about the Witch?”

Mannat already had an excuse ready. “She agreed and complimented me for thinking out the box.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Raesh said holding a tight smile that didn’t know whether to grow or recede.

“Can you also read faces?”

“I wish I could,” Raesh said and his voice grew soft. “It would have helped me a number of times. Why do you ask,”

“Nothing,” Mannat shook his head. This was the end of that conversation. There was a short pause. No winds flared their hair this time. They simply moved on.

“You want to go back now, or shall we cook this first.”

“Let’s go back,” Mannat said without reluctance and Raesh agreed. The man pushed the boar back into the cart and boarded the driver's seat. Mannat was going to follow him then realized he should let the Witch that he was leaving for the night.

“I’ll be back,” he blurted out and ran back toward the hut without giving his father time to speak.

The Witch probably already knew, but it was a basic courtesy. They had their difference, but she was also his teacher.

She was sitting on the chair facing the door when he reached the hut. She was looking over the storybook he had been reading a few hours ago. Mannat quietly entered the hut, but she ignored him even after he reached for the chair on his side of the tale. He was going to sit down then remembered why he was there.

The Witch was sulking -- that’s what Mannat thought. He stopped hesitating. “My father is here.” He said.

“Yes, he is.” The Witch replied solemnly. Perhaps, she had also gotten used to having him around. Perhaps, he was a good caretaker in her eyes and didn’t want to lose him. Whatever the case, she raised her head, looked at the red-haired boy, and quietly asked, “Are you leaving?”

The way she said the words made Mannat nostalgic. He remembered the first time he had left home to go outside; his mother had reacted in much the same way.

He hurriedly added, “I’m only going for the night.” He worried she might forever close her doors to him. She might have agreed to his request, but she was the Witch; he expected extreme nonsensical behavior from her, though he had no such memory to recall.

“I’ll come back tomorrow morning.”

The Witch slammed the book shut, looked at him, and asked, “Are you going or not?”

Mannat was speechless. Was she angry? He couldn’t detect. She had locked her expressions and was back to being an age-hardened tree. He looked at her and was about to turn when the Witch called him back.

“Here,” She pushed the storybook over to his side of the table. “Take it,” she said, tasted the words, and frowned. She saw Mannat’s confused eyes and added, “I want it back tomorrow.”

A smile bloomed on the boy's face. She wasn’t kicking him out. He nodded and picked the book, saw the paper and charcoal, and asked her if he could take them. The Witch snorted and Mannat confidently packed up two blank pages and his notes from the table before leaving.

Raesh was waiting for him at the edge of the clearing. There was anxiousness in the way he sat and it caused Mannat’s emotions to swell.

“…all done?”

“Yes,”

Mannat climbed over and took perch beside his father. Then the three strode down the dirt road leading to the village. On their left, the sun was incessantly moving in the red sky, retiring for the day and going home, just like them.