Sign: Snake
Buffs: Serpent’s Kiss (Romance twice as easy)
Debuffs: Curse of the Unspecified (Start the game with no gender, no name, and no other identifying feature)
EXP: 1,307
Alchemy
Coagula (LVL 0, 54 SKP) Ready to level up!
Solvé (LVL 0, 29 SKP)
Theoria (LVL 1, 13 SKP)
Botany
Sowing (LVL 0, 5 SKP)
Tending (LVL 0, 10 SKP)
?
Cooking
Fire (LVL 1, 23 SKP)
Water (LVL 0, 21 SKP)
?
Homesteading
Fire Tending (LVL 0, 7 SKP)
Tidying (LVL 1, 84 SKP)
?
Speech
Logic (LVL 1, 13 SKP)
Linguistics (LVL 0, 31 SKP) Ready to level up!
Cajoling (LVL 0, 10 SKP)
Total SKP: 293
Inventory:
Auros: 0
Cards of Destiny: 5 of ?? Discovered
Names: 4
Evengeline, The Pure Snow (Holly)
Vitas, The Wind Thief (Sparrow)
Gillygad, The Stiched-Up Wonder (Pitchfork)
Zinia, The Serpent’s Caress (Snake)
Passive Skills:
(Theoria LVL 1) Pure Substances: Some metals are especially luminous. Some hands are more precise than others. These hands shall become sharpened scalpels, made of the most luminous Silver. Higher maximum Quality points are possible for all potions.
(Fire LVL 1) Ignited: The Elemental branch of magic lends this Sorcerer the ability to cook faster using fire. Prepare fried or baked meals twice as quickly. Get burnt less.
(Tidying LVL 1) Dirt Buster: The magical branch of Purification lends this Sorcerer the ability to ‘Bust Dirt.’ Dust and grime accumulate at an infinitesimally slow rate on objects you have cleaned.
(Logic LVL 1) Rhetoric: The magical branch of Entreatment lends this Sorcerer the ability of heightened ‘Rhetoric.’ The structure of your arguments is smooth, regular, and orthogonal. Spirits and people are more likely to agree with you.
A heavy storm woke me up. A thunderclap shook the entire house, and I sprang awake, searching for the comforting weight of a white cat, but of course, there was no one there.
I rose out of bed, keeping my thin quilt bundled around me for warmth.
Downstairs, I saw my second attempt at Winter’s Kiss sitting idly on the counter. I called for Cheerful, but he hadn’t returned. Neither had the Sorceress.
The rain kept falling like a blanket over the house, muffling the outside world.
In my heart, there was a bittersweet mixture of loneliness and longing. I didn’t know what I longed for exactly. But I had some vague notions. A smile on a beloved face. A kind and soft ‘good morning.’
I made myself breakfast, (another 5 EXP towards Fire from the fried egg and 3 EXP towards Water when I made my tea), and decided that today, I would re-arrange the Sorceress tasks, just a bit, to suit my mood. Instead of cleaning (I was sore from all the chores I had done the previous few days) and instead of alchemy (I couldn’t very well do much without my delivery bird), I would focus on reading. Maybe just for the morning. Maybe all day.
The weather suited my whims. The grim and gray morning inclined one to cuddle into an overstuffed armchair, light a lamp with a soft orange glow, and delve deeper into the mysteries of Sorcery.
I made my way back upstairs, but instead of heading to the library, I turned into my own bedroom and dug out the trunk filled with books that Tess had gifted me.
I picked out Ma Chère.
This book, with the pink cover, and a picture of a broken heart, had created a compact nest inside my brain. Even when I was occupied, I found myself returning time and again, to the thought of finally cracking open the first page.
Usually, this was a phenomenon one identified with books already read; when sweet reminiscences of hazy daydreams, brought on by a particularly gripping story, played over and over in one’s head.
But I had no idea what was even on the first page. I had leafed through it once, to see what kind of book it was, but had not actually read a single word. Why did I have daydreams about the sweet words I might find inside Ma Chère, before I had even read it?
I decided to remedy that.
I went to open it, and start reading, but my hands drew back, and I felt a sense of revulsion overwhelm me. I was nauseous. I had to press my palm over my mouth, or risk being sick all over my bed.
I stared quizzically at the book. For just a moment, I had a brief impression that I would find something so vulgar, so dirty, so obscene, reading this innocent-looking volume, that I simply could not make myself do it.
On impulse, I reached for any other book and picked out the first that my eyes landed upon.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
It was probably the harlequin colors of the cover, a diamond pattern of emerald and crimson, that attracted me like a moth to the flame.
The book was called Contemplations on the GREEN and the RED.
I made to open it and felt a sense of trepidation, but nothing like the revulsion I felt when attempting to start Ma Chère.
I opened to the first page and began reading.
RED RED RED THE EARTH RISES, THE FURROWS THEY SWALLOW, THEY GULP THEY MASH INGEST DIGEST THE LIVING BEINGS OF THIS PLANE INTO THEIR MAWS OF MUD AND CLAY AND THE BIRDS WHO FLY ABOVE THEY SCREAM AS THE EARTH, THE MUD-RED EARTH IT RISES TO MY VERY SHINS AND BECKONS INTO ITS MOIST WOMB AND THE RED GIVES BIRTH TO GREEN, THE VERDANT SPRIG OF GRASS WHICH STRUGGLES FORTH, THE GREEN FROM RED, AND I ASK THE BLADE OF GRASS, ARE YOU HUNGRY, ARE YOU HUNGRY, ARE YOU FED AND GORGED ON THE ROTTING BLOOD, ARE YOU FED, ARE YOU FED, ARE YOU FED WELL, ARE YOU, ARE YOU, ARE-
I quickly shut the book, panting.
Whenever I read anything before, the words sounded in my head, as my eyes traced over each word. While I read the Contemplations, the voice followed the letters obediently at first. But, then, that inner voice grew louder.
And louder.
And louder, until every word was clanging in my brain like crockery thrown against a stone floor, every single word a scream that could burst out my HEAD like the first SAPLING feeding on the RED of the inside of MY SKULL and-
I took deep long breaths, shut my eyes, and tried to focus on the immediate sensations of my body. This was how Aleister had taught me to regain my calm.
What kind of book was this?
I recalled now very clearly Tess telling me not to let the other Grimoires get to me. She really could have issued a more direct warning.
The words still screamed in my head, but I could now manage to reflect on what happened without being taken over by the words of the book.
I thought I saw something, behind the lids of my eyes, as I calmed myself down. Just the ghost of some kind of image.
It looked a bit like this:
[https://i.imgur.com/MrGcmXk.jpg]
It was nothing I had seen before. Had I imagined it? Or, was I seeing something that was foreign to me? I was curious, but I also did not want to experience reading this strange book again.
My curiosity won over.
THE RED THE RED, HOW IT FEEDS, IT MUST, TO POMMEL THE RED OUT OF LIFE AND THUS CONJURE THE GREEN, TO GRATE THE BONES AND DUST THE LIVING EARTH WITH THE CRIMSON MIST, TO DRIVE THE PLOW OVER CORPSES, AND THE RED IT WILL SEEP, DOWN, SO FAR, DOWN SO FAR BELOW UNTIL THE RED ENGENDERS THE GREEN WHICH WILL COMINGLE, THE MEMBRANES BURSTING LIKE MY OWN FLESH AND THEN
Instead of paying attention to the horrible wailing of the RED and the GREEN words, I tried to split my focus, and read but also try to catch more glimpses of the elusive image.
It was very hard to keep the book open, but also very hard to shut it. I found that the longer I read, the more the words became like ruts, and my mind was the wheels that fit inside the ruts perfectly, and I was being driven along the road, gaining faster, as the EARTH spun around me and I could NO LONGER CONTROL THE BEAUTIFUL GROWTH WHICH BLOOMS BLOOMS AND FEEDS, IT MUST, IT MUST GROW TO FEED, AND FEED TO GROW, A THING WHICH EATS ITSELF ETERNALLY
I slammed the book shut again.
I took a much longer pause, to let the inside of my head calm down again. I started to feel a dull throbbing behind my eyes, and I could see RED behind my retinas, and WHAT IS BIRTHED FORTH, WHAT IS BROUGHT WAILING INTO
I opened my eyes again, focusing on my blanket instead. I had been successful. More of the image revealed itself to me.
[https://i.imgur.com/ETxGoZX.jpg]
I felt like I had almost achieved something, although I had no clue what it could be. Despite the intensely uncomfortable sensation which the book brought on, (not to mention the headache), I wanted to finish whatever it was I had started.
Carefully, softening and unfocusing my gaze, so as to not look directly at any of the words, I flipped through the book trying to see if there were anything like chapter markings.
To my surprise, there were.
I had not noticed it, but there was a little ‘1.’ at the very top of the first page. I found ‘2.’ about two dozen pages later. And, I was more than halfway there!
Was it worth the risk? I wasn't even quite sure what the risk was, but I knew that whatever was happening to the inside of my head wasn’t good. My headache had evolved into its final form, and I felt like my brain was being split apart. I made the conclusion that reading this book was probably not good for me. Not healthy.
But, I really wanted to see what the image was. My suspicion was that it was something like an Opening Gesture. Maybe, if I got to the end of Section 1 of this book, the full Gesture would be revealed?
I had almost decided to shut the book again until I remembered the previous day. I had asked Tess to take me with her to find Aleister, but she refused. And, of course, she was right. I was a pretty useless Sorcerer. I could barely make a Mediocre potion. Besides, outside of Alchemy, I didn’t even know any magic.
If the final image indeed was a more potent Opening Gesture, I would be that much better at creating potions, and maybe, I could use it to do spells, like I had seen Tess do during the Closing Ceremony.
Then again, Tess did tell me to first read up on all the Signs and their associated Names, before starting on the other Grimoires.
I contemplated the book, the red and green pattern of the cover now ripe with terrible meaning. The bright colors were still seductive, however, beckoning me into the wailing madness that waited on the pages.
I made a decision.
I opened up my inventory and pulled out the riddle pages for the Princess Riddle, the Cat Riddle, and the Door Riddle. I carefully cracked the Contemplations to the page where I knew Section 2 began. I would read that far and no further. I folded the riddle pages over the first page of section 2, folded the riddles over the rest of the book pages, and tucked them against the back cover.
I wanted to give myself a safety rail.
Hopefully, once I got to the covered page, even if I was in that groove that propelled me forward and made it so hard to shut the book, I would automatically stop.
And, Tess had gifted me this book. Even if it was highly uncomfortable to read, surely it couldn’t be that dangerous, right?
I thought it was a good plan, so, taking one big breath, I opened to where I had marked my progress with a dog-ear, and began again.
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When I came to, I was lying face down in the second-story hallway, the spiral staircase not a foot from my head.
I had hazy recollections of what had happened.
When I started reading the Contemplations again, the words came much faster, with much more brutal strength behind each printed letter. It felt like they were driving me towards some kind of peak, a climax. I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t shut the book.
I had sprung out of bed, hoping that the book would fall from my hands, but instead, all my carefully placed riddle pages had listlessly fallen away.
The words couldn’t be contained in my skull any longer. I thought, to ease the swelling inside, I would let some of the words out, so I started whispering as I read.
The words liked that.
The screaming in my head quickly transitioned into just screaming and I was pacing, my body being pulled along by the words, and yelling at the top of my lungs.
“HOW WILL YOU BE BROUGHT FORTH BUT THROUGH PAIN AND GLORY, GLORY TO LIFE WHICH CANNIBALIZES AND FEEDS, AND DIES TO FEED AGAIN, THE MOTHER ON THE YOUNG, AND THE BABES ON THE DEAD MOTHER, AND HOW WILL YOU BELONG TO THE EARTH WHEN YOU DO NOT FEED, SO FEED YOU MUST AND GROW, AND GROW, AND GROW!”
That must have been right around the time I passed out.
I looked at the staircase again, and the treacherous fall which had surely awaited me, if I had not been completely overwhelmed by the experience and lost consciousness.
Shakily, I gathered myself up and gingerly picked up the book, trying not to look at the horrifying colors on the cover screaming their name at me.
But the words were inside me now. They were spreading and entwining my brain, a creeping growth, like ivy, fastening itself to the inner walls of my skull.
I threw the damned book into the trunk from whence it came, and slammed the top shut.
I had almost died, broken my neck falling down, all for some stupid Gesture.
I suddenly remembered that I was supposed to have been trying to find the image.
I thought of that image and it sprang into my mind, bright and blazing.
[https://i.imgur.com/C92suBH.jpg]
As I examined the lines of the mysterious symbol, the twines, the growth in my brain felt like it was tightening down, fastening a foothold inside of me.
Then, to my surprise, a message appeared!
New Entry for Old Toad’s Grimoire!
Growth, Level 1 (Enchantment) Spell
I stared at the message, relief, and exhilaration nudging past the fear and the awful headache.
A spell! I managed to unlock an actual spell!
I immediately opened Old Toad’s. I found my new spell, Growth, in the same section that contained the potions.
Growth, Level 1 (Enchantment) Spell
Accelerate the growth of plants and fungi.
Spend 100 EXP to Align and Unlock?
Oh, so that’s what EXP was for! Good thing I had saved so much! I barely thought about the words of the message, and immediately said YES, and then, for the second time in one morning, I passed out.
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