Dawn's gentle touch graced the land above, but down in the stone-encased basement, the concept of the morning was just an idea—one that Arden carried within him as he endured an all-nighter. The stone table, cold and unyielding under his fingertips, had become an anchor in this subterranean world, its surface a canvas for the enigmatic runes. In the flickering torchlight, the runes danced, merging and flowing like liquid ideas, a silent symphony of creation akin to the instantiation of objects in his favorite programming language—each new sequence more complex than the last.
He traced the indelible marks absentmindedly, his programmer’s mind grappling with the chaotic structure before him. The 'code' sprawled across the table's expanse was not linear; it was fragmented, like memories scattered across a disjointed mind. Declarations of objects, and the creation of runes, appeared in one recollection, only to be utilized in a seemingly unrelated part. It was a puzzle where each piece was a moment captured in time, a thought, an echo of action, demanding a delicate dance of cognition and intuition to bring coherence to the maelstrom of magical syntax.
Days had passed, blending the ordinary with the unexpected. Arden's quiet moments were often filled with telepathic discussions with Ava, their thoughts linking softly, ensuring that their conversations remained theirs alone — shielded from Galadrian's and especially Cortana's all-seeing presence.
In hushed tones that hovered on the brink of silence, they crafted the outline of their collective plan. Ava, with Lila's nod of assent despite her battle with the poison's relentless progress, conveyed their shared decision: they would entertain Cortana's plan, but with a veil of skepticism firmly in place. The air was laden with mutual suspicion as Lila endorsed their strategy; the vagueness of Cortana's intentions, implied in the dream that had once suggested Lila as Arden's guide, warranted caution. Now, with agreement from Lila, Ava stepped into the role of mentor, embracing the task with determined vigilance and a mindful wariness of the uncertainties that lay ahead.
Galadrian remained a riddle, his reasons for seeking out Arden—the supposed world traveler—cloaked in ambiguity. He insisted he was there to assist, but on the particulars, his lips were sealed, leaving Arden to wonder about his true intentions.
Their conversations often pivoted from the profound to the mundane, the latest being Arden's craving for coffee. This topic brought a rare smile to Arden's face; the notion of coffee was as much an oddity in this world as he was. Yet Galadrian, ever the source of surprises, hinted that he might have encountered such a potent drink in his travels, though not in these northern realms. It was a sliver of hope for Arden, a promise of familiar comfort amidst the strangeness that enveloped him.
However, Lila's condition cast a pall over their attempts at normalcy. The poison in her veins was a silent thief, siphoning her vitality bit by bit. Arden could only watch as her once vibrant aura dimmed, the woman who had become his mentor and protector now locked in a battle within her own body.
Cortana had shattered the routine of his daily existence, unveiling the tableau of 'code' that lay hidden upon the table's surface. Arden's initial awe had evolved into determination as he honed the skill of [Minor Illusions], creating a semblance of the desktop interfaces from his old world. The translucent screens floated above the table, a comforting illusion, albeit clumsy and slow in response.
The code was a marvel, a conundrum that baffled him—ancient runes laden with untold mysteries. Only when the medallion at his neck stirred with dormant power did he grasp the assistance it provided. Encased within the medallion was a skill, [Natural Languages], a universal translator of sorts, enabling him to comprehend the runes' language’, if not their full implications. He began to see the code as 'memories,' fragmented and elusive, gradually revealing themselves to him.
This newfound skill shed light on things he had only sensed before. He remembered a moment by the stream, where the peculiar behavior of mana had first suggested its duality—a conjecture now confirmed by the code. The runes bore out his previous thoughts on the nature of mana, deciphered through the medallion's magic.
Arden felt a deep sense of frustration. The medallion revealed only glimpses, stopping just before it reached the crucial insights. The secret of 'mana generation' eluded him—it was as if the full understanding was always just beyond his grasp. The code offered mere whispers of knowledge, teasing him with superficial clarity but concealing the true depths. He yearned for the ability to delve deeper, like using a search function on a computer to pinpoint the information he needed. More than anything, he wanted a tool that could dispel the mists of mystery, shedding light on the concealed wisdom of this world.
Arden leaned back, the chair’s wooden frame groaning under his weight—a subtle protest that echoed off the stone walls. The mental marathon had left him weary, but beneath the fatigue, a spark of exhilaration flickered. He was a seeker, a solver, a craftsman of systems by his very nature, and this enigmatic world was simply another system awaiting his unraveling.
The concentration shattered gently as Ava appeared, her hands carefully balancing a steaming mug of Galadrian's latest blend.
"A taste of home, or so he claims," she said, a playful smirk on her lips as she offered the beverage.
Arden eyed the mug warily before taking a tentative sip, only to grimace as the taste hit him. "Well," he coughed out, "if home tastes like burnt leather, then he's spot on."
Her laughter was a brief respite, quickly dimmed by the worry that crept back onto her face. "Your mom... how's she holding up?" Arden's voice dropped, the lightness gone.
"No change," Ava murmured, the smile gone as fast as it came. "She's still fighting, but it's like we're stuck."
Cortana, ever the custodian, took to her role with a sense of duty that extended beyond mere obligation. Sensing Ava's distress, she reached out. "This poison... do you know what it is? Maybe I know something that helps."
Arden shared a look with Ava, a silent acknowledgment of their predicament. "We've got no clue," he admitted. "We can't even pinpoint what we're dealing with."
"Unacceptable," Cortana interrupted sharply, her irritation clear. "Ava needs to have diagnostic skills. That's the basics for a healer. Why have you not seen to that?"
Arden bristled at the critique. "I don't have any skills like that to share, okay?"
Cortana pressed on, incredulous. "How's that possible? You're a Steward, right?"
That's when Galadrian stepped in, the authority in his voice filling the space. "There is knowledge you lack," he said seriously. "As a Steward, you're able to share any skill in your skill tree, even if you haven't mastered it yet."
Arden's confusion was palpable. "I was always told you can only pass on what you've fully learned, as part of the mentor-apprentice relationship."
"A Steward's prerogatives are jealously guarded," Galadrian acknowledged with a firm nod. "It's unusual that you know of them," he said, eyeing Cortana.
Cortana's voice was laced with pride. "I've picked up a few secrets from Stewards over the years."
Arden, rubbing the back of his neck, sought clarity. "So I can share any of my skills with Ava, correct?" His gaze was expectant. "Any particular ones you're interested in?"
Ava, caught off guard, hesitated. "What? Are you really serious about this?" Her voice was a whirlwind of excitement edged with concern.
Arden frowned, confused. "What's wrong?"
Galadrian interceded with a note of caution in his voice. "What Ava means is that skills are treasured commodities, often jealously protected."
"An interesting observation, especially coming from the Keeper of Skills," Cortana remarked dryly.
Intrigued, Arden pressed for more information. "Keeper of Skills? We've never really talked about that, Galadrian. What does it entail?"
Cortana offered an explanation. "The Keeper of Skills used to be the one who approved new skills, a steward of magical knowledge."
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"The art of crafting new skills has, unfortunately, been lost to time," Galadrian added with a hint of sorrow.
Redirecting his attention to Ava, Arden prompted, "You haven't answered my question."
Ava's eyes glistened, but she steadied her voice. "Which healing skills do you have access to?”
"I think I have quite a few," Arden mused, feeling slightly overwhelmed. "Let me check."
Cortana, growing impatient, cut in. "Let's not forget we have an expert among us. Galadrian, which healing skills are essential?"
Galadrian's pause conveyed the seriousness of the discussion. "It's not common to divulge such information freely."
Cortana, clearly annoyed, pointed out, "Arden likely has access to a more extensive skill tree than you do, Galadrian."
Galadrian, taken aback but quickly recomposing himself, suggested, "Perhaps a skill could be exchanged for this advice."
"That's ridiculous," Cortana snapped, waving off the idea. "Listen, here's my advice."
"You'll be needing a broad healing skill like [Restoration Healing], something that accelerates the body’s natural healing process. Then there's the matter of treating diseases, for which you'd need a specific skill. And, of course, a diagnostic skill, like [Advanced Diagnostics], is crucial. Plus, you can't skimp on a deep understanding of anatomy—both physical and magical—and a healer's intuition to tune into a patient's needs. Skills that let you sense imbalances could be vital too,"
Arden listed thoughtfully. "So [Anatomy], [Advanced Diagnostics], [Restoration Healing], and perhaps [Enhanced Empathy] should be on the list."
"What do you think, Galadrian?" Arden inquired.
"Yes, that's a comprehensive list," he acknowledged with a nod.
Changing the subject, Arden turned to Ava. "How's your [Basic Mana Manipulation] coming along?"
Ava's face colored slightly. "I have mastered it, again," she admitted with a shy smile.
"So, we're considering two skills then: I think Anatomy and Diagnostics," Arden stated.
Galadrian cautioned them. "Anatomy is complex and requires an in-depth study of the body, sometimes through dissection."
Inspired by his [Minor Illusions] skill, Arden had an epiphany. He could perhaps bypass the grueling study with magic. Searching his skill tree, he found Aeliana Whiteheart’s [Intricate Insight Diagnostic] which had the aspect he was looking for. "Has anyone heard of Aeliana Whiteheart?" he asked.
Galadrian and Ava exchanged puzzled looks, but Cortana responded, "If memory serves, she was the head of the medical academy at some point." As surprised faces turned to her, she added, "As I said, I've encountered many noteworthy individuals."
"Then we'll go with [Anatomy Adept's Insight] and [Intricate Insight Diagnostic]," Arden decided.
Galadrian acknowledged the decision. "Both sound like solid choices, but mastery will take dedication."
Ava, her emotions close to the surface, agreed to the plan. "I trust you, Arden. To have a choice is more than I ever hoped for."
With the course set, Arden prepared for the skill transfer, a moment that promised to forge a new path for them all.
***
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Ava watched Arden, her mind caught in a whirlwind of anticipation and apprehension. The prospect of acquiring new healing skills was something she hadn't allowed herself to dream of for some time, and now the moment was tinged with both excitement and a heavy sense of expectation.
As Arden's eyes met hers, a silent understanding passed between them—a connection that transcended words. She could sense the imminent transformation, the rise of potential within her, stirring.
Now, within the confines of her mind, the room and its occupants faded into the background. She steeled herself for the transformative influx that was to come, her spirit resolved to embrace the vast, uncharted possibilities ahead.
The wave of new knowledge from Arden was immediate and intense, a rush of insight flooding her senses. As the flow of magic and understanding settled within her, Ava's thoughts fast-forwarded to the imminent future, to the moment she would first apply this profound skill to aid her ailing mother.
Ava pictured herself next to her mother's bed, ready to use the new skill Arden had shared. She'd take a deep breath, call upon the [Intricate Insight Diagnostic], and a detailed image of her mother would appear, layer by layer. Arden called this a 'hologram,' a term as new to her as the skill itself.
She knew she'd be amazed at being able to see things hidden under the skin, but she also knew the pictures would only make sense if she understood what she was looking at. The more she learned about how the body worked, the better she'd use the hologram to help her mom.
She held onto this thought as a beacon of hope, a sign of progress for her mother and future patients. Yet, the prospect of mastering all the intricate anatomical knowledge that Galadrian had outlined was daunting. He had warned her of the challenge, and her own experiences affirmed his caution—it would not be easy.
However, as soon as Ava began to employ the [Anatomy Adept's Insight], her initial apprehensions were quickly put to rest by Arden's extensive knowledge of human anatomy—knowledge he humbly called 'basic.' In the following days, Arden's memory served as a treasure trove, elucidating the complex interplay of the human body's systems and functions. Where his recollection ended, Ava's skill [Anatomy Adept's Insight] seamlessly filled in, painting a complete picture of the knowledge she sought.
Together, they explored the body's physical structures, with Ava's understanding sharpening the once indistinct images cast by the [Intricate Insight Diagnostic]. Arden joked about it being a form of cheating, but to Ava, it was the brilliance of Aeliana Whiteheart's legacy that enabled such rapid learning.
Galadrian observed Ava's progress with a mix of surprise and admiration. He declared that her swift advancement, which would typically span years, was unprecedented—accelerated by the unique skill she wielded.
When it came to the magical aspects of anatomy, Galadrian stepped forward as the instructor. While Arden could only theorize, Galadrian unveiled the mysteries of mana and its elusive source rooted in the soul—a source that defied even the skill's ability to visualize.
Each lesson was a revelation, filling Ava with an ever-deepening respect for the intricacy of life's design. Her gratitude towards Arden's guidance was profound, and her resolve to learn all he and Galadrian could teach was unyielding. The body became a map to her, with her burgeoning skills as the compass, guiding her through the terrain of healing and the unseen landscapes of magic.
Yet, what truly unsettled her was Lila's resignation from her role as a subject for their practice. The once fiercely private woman now lay compliant and silent, offering only a weak smile that betrayed her surrender to her fate.
***
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For their next attempt to understand the poison coursing through Lila's veins, they had moved her to Cortana's chamber. The hope was that in this space, with access to the ‘code,’ Arden might discern something more.
"So, what's the plan with moving Lila here?" Galadrian inquired, his expression one of cautious curiosity.
"We're going to run the [Intricate Insight Diagnostic] again," Arden explained with a respectful nod. "With Cortana observing, maybe we'll catch something we missed before. It's a long shot, but worth a try."
Ava initiated the skill, and the now-familiar holographic projection of her mother materialized above the bed. The poison's red visualization revealed its spread—or rather, the lack thereof. It hadn't advanced as her skill predicted for a typical poison, suggesting a magical influence at work. Concentrating, Ava watched as runes began to surface, her focus unwavering thanks to Arden's mental support.
Ardfen had anticipated this. The first runes, intricate and complex, were clear to him. He identified the ‘curse’ on Lila, its elaborate structure a testament to the caster's skill. Then came a simpler sequence, a magical block—Arden's own creation.
Surprise etched on her face, Ava noticed additional runes connected to the poison. "Interesting," Arden murmured, analyzing the magical components. "There are three separate enchantments interwoven here. Quite a sophisticated concoction."
"Stop admiring the craftsmanship—it's hurting my mother," Ava snapped her tone a mixture of hurt and apology.
Arden's sympathetic gaze met hers, his empathy flowing through their mental link, causing Ava's cheeks to warm. "Right," he said, refocusing. "This first part is slowing the poison's spread, and I'm not sure why it’s there."
"The second part," he continued, his tone a mix of admiration and concern, "it's sinister. It's designed to reduce the victim's will to live."
"And the third?" Ava pressed, her patience thinning.
"Yes, the third part is a concealment spell. Simple runes, really," Arden acknowledged, a touch of pride in his voice for recognizing the arcane structure.
"Can we remove it?" Ava's urgency was palpable.
"Yes, it's not locked like the ‘curse’," Arden noted, his attention narrowing on the magical weave.
Galadrian stepped in, seeing Ava's confusion. “Some spells are bound, meaning only the original caster's mana can change them.”
"Then do it—remove this spell," Ava urged.
"But doing so will accelerate the poison," Arden cautioned, his eyes still on the luminous threads of the spellwork.
Ava's heart sank with the realization, but her resolve didn't waver. "We'll deal with that next. Just remove the obstruction."
The process of removing the spell was surprisingly straightforward for Arden. He imagined the runes like the text on a screen, selected them with a mental command, and with a thought, they were gone as if he'd simply pressed a delete key.
The change in Lila was instantaneous. Her skin regained a healthier hue, prompting a sardonic smile to grace her lips. "How ironic," she said, "the master of mental fortitude, undone by an emotional curse."
Galadrian's voice was gentle, tinged with humor. "Yes, that must be the most galling part for you."
Lila lay still, but Ava, observing the rapid pulse in the holographic display of her heart, raised an eyebrow in concern. "Mom, you need to relax. We have to slow the poison's spread."
"I am relaxed," Lila asserted, but Ava simply pointed to the visual representation of her racing heart. With a resigned sigh, Lila acknowledged the truth. "Right," Lila conceded. Then, with a focus that silenced the room, she summoned her mental fortitude, her breathing steadied, and the illusion's heartbeat slowed. It was a testament to her control, a skill honed over the years, and it commanded quiet respect from everyone present.
With her mother's vital signs now under control, Ava turned her focus back to the diagnostic image. She was ready to tackle the poison, her eyes sharpening as she prepared to trace its path and neutralize its advance.
Ava's focused gaze dissected the holographic projection, tracing the poison that wound through her mother's veins. Without the cloak of magic, it was laid bare, a stark and lethal substance known for its rapid onslaught. It was a common assassin's tool, swift and unforgiving, and in its pure form, its characteristics were unmistakable.
The toxin was vividly represented by stark, dark lines that branched out aggressively. It was a relentless invader, moving with a purpose that seemed almost sentient. Its reputation for quick action made every second critical, yet it was this same notorious nature that made the poison recognizable to those well-versed in herbal lore and healing.
Cortana, assimilating the visual data with Ava's observations, swiftly identified the venom. "That's Nightshade's Kiss," she declared with certainty. "A fast and deadly poison. Its antidote, while not simple to procure, is well-known."
A collective tension eased around the room, the gravity of the situation giving way to a focused urgency. To have a name for the poison was a crucial step towards combating it.
Lila spoke up, her voice weak but laced with a clear resolve. "Tammy, an old friend of Marcus from his army days, could get it. She's the innkeeper on the road from our place, at the halfway point from Chandler's. If anyone nearby can get the antidote, it's her."
A sense of purpose ignited within Ava. Tammy's inn wasn't close, but with the knowledge of what they sought, the path forward was clear. They needed to reach Tammy and secure the antidote before the Nightshade's Kiss claimed her mother.
Arden met Ava's eyes, a shared resolve between them. "We've got no time to lose," he said briskly. "Let's get to Tammy's inn fast. The longer we wait, the more of an edge we give to this Nightshade's Kiss."
Cortana's expression was one of controlled discontent. She had hoped to keep Arden here, delving into the intricacies of 'mana generation,' but strong-arming him would only push her further from her objectives. With a strategic mindset, she made a quick decision. "Arden, could you step over here for a moment?" she called out, her holographic form flickering softly.
Arden approached, wary of her intentions. Cortana's voice dropped to a whisper, "I understand you need to leave, but before you do, I have something for you." A drawer, previously unseen, slid open with a whisper to reveal a small, worn journal.
"This belonged to Maggie," Cortana explained, as she noticed Arden's quizzical look sharpen. "She was the Steward before you, from this world, not another," she clarified quickly.
With a mix of curiosity and haste, Arden accepted the journal, his mind awash with questions. There was no time to explore its contents now—Lila needed him. The questions would have to wait.