“So I just put them on and look at you?” Mason asked from where he sat on his bed behind him.
“Yeah,” Micah gasped as he laid the tarp out beneath his open window. “If they don’t work right away, try the typical attunement methods for glasses.”
He flipped the corners up against the wall and his closet and placed two empty pots down to keep them in place. They twitched in the afternoon breeze as the sky began to turn.
Probably going to rain tonight, huh?
“Typical attunement methods for glasses? Of course, we all know what those are.”
He rolled his eyes. “Focus on the lenses themselves and then through them, like a windowpane, touch the rims next to either lens, push them up by the bridge, saturate them with mana …”
“Ah.”
He froze. That hadn’t been an, ‘ah, I understand,’ or an, ‘ah, I get it, now shut up,’ but an, ‘ah, this is a gasp because something unexpected happened’.
Micah swiveled around.
Mason looked a little ridiculous with two giant hearts covering his eyes, but only if you focused on it too much, he thought. Only if you were a party pooper …
But that wasn’t important right now. The important thing was the way Mason stared at him. Through the pink lenses, his eyes wandered from his face to his shoulders, hand, right leg, and immediately back up to his face.
“Sorry,” he said.
“It’s fine.” Micah balled his hand into a fist to hide the scars and placed it on his knee, though it was probably too late and he doubted he could hide the emotions anyway. “I knew you would see something … uhm, how much can you see?”
He’d practiced with many different items over the last few months and it varied, but Micah could always see more, see things quicker, or see them differently. It was inaccurate to compare but still mandatory as a reassurance for other people, he thought.
“Uh, I’m not sure yet.” Mason studied his face and it must have grown too awkward because he turned away and inspected the room instead. “Does it change over time?”
“Yep. That depends on you, though, as you focus?”
“Aha …?”
He looked at the Gardener’s Chest and supplies Micah had bought, over to the other side of the room and the beds there, away—Micah sighed in relief—and back to his quarter.
He looked at the bed he sat on, frowned, and scooted to its edge, then jumped off and took the glasses off. “Uh, too much information.”
“Huh?!”
“Way too much information.”
Mortified, Micah jumped up and almost snatched the glasses out of his hand, but they weren’t his. He had to be careful. He held a hand out instead and demanded, “Gimme!”
He’d looked at himself in the mirror earlier and inspected his backpack because it had been there, but he hadn’t thought to inspect his bed.
Mason put them in his hand, Micah put them on, took one look and—
He sighed in relief.
Tiny, nightmarish beings made of distorted ink crawled over his bed and hid under his pillows.
“Nightmare essence, I’m guessing?” he mumbled. Though, these let him see emotion essences so probably something like fear, then.
Or it could be similar to soap essence, something he was seeing by straining beyond the borders of his sight … and he had seen them right away instead of having to stretch.
Well, that kind of sucked in its own right but it was still better than the alternative. And if he had a steady supply, maybe he could use it in his ammunition, assuming monsters were even affected by emotions like that.
Have to look it up.
Either way, it was better than just letting it sit there and insult him.
“Oh,” Mason said, “I’m sorry, man.”
“It’s fine. As I said, I knew you would see something. Probably good we’re doing this in my room then.”
“Yeah … but you looked relieved.” He grinned and jostled his shoulder. “Why, did you think I saw something different?”
Micah scowled. “You made it seem that way! And how would you even think that from those?”
He gestured at the nightmare creatures. When they noticed, they raised their hackles at him and the light distorted fractionally around them to make them seem larger and closer, somehow, like they were unavoidable.
Micah frowned. You looked cuter before. Now, they looked like the whip spiders in his dreams that were always a moment away from stinging him no matter how far he ran or how many mountains he slammed down on them. The stupid spiders just … phased through like ghosts and continued to skitter at him.
“I thought it was like, nastiness or something. Like you hadn’t washed your blanket in ages.”
“Screw you. I wash my bedclothes way more than other people, and I washed them before the exam.”
“Yeah, and I hear you wash others’ laundry, too. You weirdo.” He sat back down with a smile, just teasing him.
Micah still said, “Yeah, it really is better we’re doing this here, then. ‘Wouldn’t want to step into your room with my eyes open.”
“Oh, ha-ha. Why am I even helping you again?”
“Because my usual victims— I mean, test subjects— I mean, siblings in arms were all too busy.”
Micah smiled, put the glasses back in their case, and set it aside.
In a droll, disarming tone, Mason said, “Oh, and I’m not because I’m too lazy, don’t have a life, or I’m not one of your siblings in arms, or something?”
“Yeah, something like that—” The guy frowned and he rushed to say, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! You were just the first one who agreed to help, so thank you for that.”
“Oh. You’re welcome.”
It was true, though. Ryan had retreated to his room with Lisa’s spellbook after the exam and Micah was so busy, it made it easy to give him space; Lisa had retreated in another way, spending more and more time at home like she was hiding; Alex, Brent, Jason, and Shala were all too busy; he wasn’t brave enough to ask Anne … yet, but maybe soon; for a similar reason, he wouldn’t ask any of the other girls just like he wouldn’t want to play spin the bottle or truth or dare without an occasion; and Kyle had straight-up told him to fuck off.
But Mason had agreed to help. Probably because he had told him about the treasure chest and his plan to share it with the workshop if he was given permission.
Looking at the bags of soil and mulch he had bought, and the few wrapped plants, he was beginning to doubt that plan. The chest was large—and looked awesome—but it could only house so many plants and growing [Alchemists] needed a lot of ingredients.
Maybe Mason had known that and come to seize the opportunity before it was too late.
Not that he minded sharing with him. Mason was his favorite colleague in the workshop, though he sometimes got the sense Mason saw him as a rival or wanted to usurp his seat as the senior [Alchemist].
Then again, all of the workshop students wanted to do that. Whether it was because of his age, attitude, methods, or the special attention he received, many of his peers hadn’t let go of the tone Mr. Jung had set in their first session. They would try to point out any mistakes he made and questioned his every decision.
It had frustrated him to all hell at first and Micah still hated the course even though he learned a lot there but now … If he was being honest, he sort of didn’t mind …?
Because, it was a win for him most of the time, ignoring the emotional strain: Either they pointed out an actual mistake and he learned something, they helped him better understand his own work as he was forced to explain his thought process to someone with a wildly different perspective, or—and this happened most often—they were just wrong because of they’d overlooked some simple mistake and Mr. Jung would admonish them.
Throughout the year, he‘d learned the man was hard on everyone. He’d just used Micah to set an example and demand his students’ respect from the get-go like the asshole he was.
But he knows his stuff.
“Now, if you want me to act like I’m not actually doing you a favor,” Micah said, “get off your ass and help me not make a mess.”
Mason groaned. “Fine. How do you want to do this?”
“Slowly and carefully,” he said and moved the tray and chest onto the tarp. “Fill to here.”
He undid the strings on the sack and together, they filled a treasure chest made of living, breathing plants grown around a wooden frame—vines, roots, ferns, bark, and safe fungi. The unsafe ones had been cut out and dried for later.
Micah saw the breeze carry the smell and a bit of the soil up and Mason made a face, his nose twitching like he was about to sneeze. He itched it and asked, “Are you sure your roommates won’t mind?”
“I warned them,” Micah said as he evened it out, “and they didn’t seem to mind too much.”
“I guess [Gardeners] are kind of common and some of them keep personal projects in their rooms. Flowers can smell nice?”
“True, but nah. I don’t think they plan on sticking around too much over the summer. Besides, I’m kind of the roommate who doesn’t fit in anyway so this is par for the course for me.”
“Huh. Lucky them. And you might get entirely new roommates to torment next year?”
“Isn’t it great?” he joked.
Really, he wasn’t looking forward to new roommates. His current ones were used to his oddities. Any future ones would be a luck of the draw.
It still sucked he was stuck with people his own age. He wouldn’t mind bunking with his actual friends.
“So I was thinking of planting Tower nettle and Wolfsmint,” Micah said as he began to unwrap the first bundle outside his window.
“Versatile choices for focus and the other …?”
“Perfume, breath and stamina potions, toothpaste, and so on. They’re common on the lower floors—or they were. Not sure about the statistics now and there are new and exciting herbs out there, but it’s good to stick with something reliable. The chest can only ‘support’ so many herbs anyway and these should grow like weeds.”
“Makes sense.”
That was the value of Gardener’s chests. Aside from having effects similar to [Green Thumb], they helped grow magic herbs outside of the Tower, many of which could be tricky to cultivate.
At least, if you didn’t have the right Skills or didn’t want to buy alchemical helpers, which could be more expensive in the long run.
He dug a small hole and set the plant inside, careful not to jostle its fruit or brush up against its leaves. His itch was barely gone and the slightest bump could flare it back up again.
Without being asked to, Mason scooped some soil out and held it over. “And the uh, white flowers?”
He nodded at the tulips and daisies Micah had bought.
“Hang on,” he warned him and cast [Condense Water] first. He let Mason cover the mud up, then patted it down and watered it some more.
Clumps of mud clung to his hands, between his fingers, and underneath his nails then, filling him with the irrational need to slap down into the muddy soil like jumping into a puddle.
He resisted the urge.
“Those are for fertilizer experiments. Like the dye test?”
“Ah, but instead of dye—”
“Happiness, anger, sadness, and so on. I want to see how they react; if they change color or grow differently or something. I thought white flowers were as good as any. I want to test it on some edible stuff, too, though.”
“Huh. But if you grow them in a Gardener’s chest, won’t that skew the results?”
Micah pointed. “That’s what the empty pots are for.”
He had bought a few. Alchemical fertilizers were among the first recipes he had ever made and he’d made some at the start of the school year, so they seemed like a good option to start.
“So … why do you have so few herbs, then? Are you undecided, or can the chest not support any more?”
He shook his head and watered the next plant. “No, that’s just my share. I wanted to share this with the entire workshop but … I doubt that will work. So the other fourth is for you.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, look, I found an Idiot’s Guide in the library.”
He held his hands out the window to dust them off, lifted his backpack onto his bed, and pulled a book from it, dropping it on his blanket so it wouldn’t get dirty.
“It has a chapter on which plants can live together as they need different nutrients or produce ones others can use. You could choose any versatile, basic ones that fit my two and plant them if you want?”
He used the bookmark to flip it open and pointed with his pinky.
Mason frowned as he leaned over to read, holding his hands toward the tarp.
Micah went back to the window and brushed his off some more.
“You know, I agreed before but this is your chest, Micah. You don’t have to share it with anyone.”
“But I want to. You’ve helped me out before and, to be honest, I kind of need someone to help me look after it when I’m not around.”
“You could just ask a friend for a favor?”
“Nah. Not my style. Besides, I’m definitely going to swipe some leaves or fruit from whatever you grow in there, as you will with mine. And, this could help us level?”
That would only get harder from now on, with every Class and level he got. He had to push himself to keep up, to make sure he hadn’t just started this marathon with a short sprint to take the lead after all.
Mason smiled. “Sure.”
“Great, because you’re going to plant the rest of these.”
“Huh?”
When he looked, Micah held up the rose glasses. He didn’t want to take up too much of his time or make Mason sit around while he stared at his emotions, so they would have to multi-task.
He made a face. “Why do I feel bought?”
“Almost.” Micah smiled but hesitated before he put the glasses on. “Uhm, just to be sure, do I have permission to appraise you, Mason?”
He sighed. “Fine. Just don’t be weird about it.”
“Of course.”
“This would be how you have to hire someone, though.”
Micah needed a second to catch on to the meaning of that and winced. “Low blow, Mason.”
“Sorry, was that too mean?”
“A little, yeah. But it’s fine. I, more than anyone, know I’m going to have to earn a lot this summer.”
“Yeah, like to be a new change of clothes, or did you wear those for gardening?”
Micah glanced down at his shirt and frowned. “No? What’s wrong with my clothes?”
He smiled. “Is it current Westhill fashion to always wear clothes two sizes too small or large or what?”
“Screw you. I can grow into them.”
“And meanwhile, with your necklace, you look super shady. Who’s always talking shit about back-alley alchemists?”
“You’re a back-alley alchemist!”
Mason chuckled and Micah remembered what he’d dragged him here for. He switched lenses and put the glasses on.
The guy lit up in silver lines from his various auras, silver-blue spores drifting off his frame, and mana flowed from his hand over the plants where it turned into a clearer blue for his spell.
That much was normal.
Well, aside from the filter underneath his spell that split the water into crude streams like a nozzle.
Show-off.
But in addition to his usual auras, murkier lines wriggled off his silhouette, especially over his shoulders. Only his spell hand and one side of his face were clear. There, motes of molten light mixed with the mana and a sheen highlighted his eyes, mouth, and chin.
The latter bit … his focus on his spell and the work he enjoyed? But what about the wormy aura?
Its lines reached farther when he spoke, “Why do we have to do this at the same time again?”
“Uhm …”
It wasn’t that the lines were larger. They just moved as if they were being pushed away by his voice. The ones over his shoulders and at the borders of his enjoyment were, though. Why?
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
The lines looked anxious, if he had to guess. And they were larger because they threatened his enjoyment or because … he was carrying something in his shoulders …? His shoulders were stiff …? A weight on …? A chill running down his spine …? His blindspot—
Oh!
Suddenly, the idea clicked. Was that the feeling of knowing someone was watching over your shoulder when you couldn’t see them?
Micah got his journal out to write that down and realized Mason was still waiting for an answer.
“Uhm … huh? What did you say?”
“I was just wondering—”
The door opened. That uncertain essence flared, turning into sharp angles like thorns and claws as Mason broke his concentration on his spell and spun.
Micah did the same and caught a glimpse of Vladi, of a cloud of buzzing essences, and spun away to stare at the upper right corner of his room.
“Ahh!” he gasped and shielded the edges of his vision with his hands. He’d almost looked.
There was a pause and a frown in his voice when Vladi asked, “Are you good?”
“Yep.”
“Weirdo. Oh, hey … Mason, right?”
“Yeah. Hi.”
“You’re planting herbs. For the workshop? Please, tell me you two are not making a mess.”
“We’re trying not to,” Micah answered. “Even got a tarp.” That had been a last-minute buy.
“That is good to see.”
Rapid steps walked past him around the opposite bed. Closet doors swung open and Vladi began to rummage about.
“What are you doing? I can’t see. You said you would be away this afternoon. I could have the room for myself.”
“I’ll be in a moment. I just need to get something. A better question would be why you are staring at the ceiling and— What are you wearing?” He chuckled.
“Appraisal glasses.”
“Ah, still practicing that, huh? What for, the herbs?”
“No, they’re uhm—”
“Do you really have to stare at the ceiling?”
“Yes. Walker’s orders. I can’t look at you without your permission, so you can’t stick around. Shoo, shoo.” He waved a hand.
Vladi sounded bemused. “This is my room yet, Stranya, but … Why can’t you look at me?”
“They’re for emotions,” Mason said and Micah tried not to wince. He hadn’t exactly wanted to announce that. Vladi might tell others if it wasn’t a secret, which it couldn’t be, because then people would assume the worst. Either way, they would assume something and he didn’t want that kind of attention.
Now, it was too late.
“Oh, so … are you done with your appraisal training? Why are you wanting to see emotions?”
“Uhm, I’m sort of done,” Micah said, still looking in the other direction. The ceiling looked fuzzy and numb. Faint patterns buzzed in barely noticeable circles, but used to something else, he did notice them.
… Boredom essence, maybe?
“Sort of?” Vladi prompted him.
“I haven’t stopped my appraisal training. I won’t, I mean. But uhm, I sort of want to take a breather to see if I can use emotions in my alchemy? You know, like happy healing potions?”
“I … see. Has your appraisal training not been working out?” He sounded interested, but not like he was hopeful.
Unlike others, Vladi didn’t resent him, nor did he have any reason to be jealous. Vladi was only interested in his studies, music, and sword-fighting.
And even if they had a somewhat strenuous relationship as roommates and weren’t close, they still helped each other out from time to time, tried to be polite, smiled, and congratulated each other when they leveled in the mornings, got a new Skill, or shared other good news.
They just also got on each others’ nerves. They didn’t go to sleep at the same time, didn’t wake up at the same time, didn’t have the same understanding of quiet; some preferred to study here and didn’t want to invite friends over, some in the library and wanted to relax, some didn’t want to leave the windows open for long, or leave both the windows and door open.
It was a mess.
No, Micah only felt uncomfortable admitting his shortcomings because they were his.
“Yeah, I’ve been, uhm practicing every other week but I’ve mostly gotten headaches when I try to do it on my own? I think I might have to rely on a Skill from a level up, but the training I’ve done will definitely help me get one since I don’t have a [Master] to guide me.”
“Yeah, we’ve got to guide our own advancement,” Mason said. He sounded proud of it.
“So you’re giving up?” Vladi sounded doubtful.
“I’m taking a step back to re-evaluate,” Micah told him. “Maybe I’m just not ready yet. People get appraisals from the double digits upward but most people aren’t two years ahead of the curve. Mr. Walker also doesn’t own any glasses that let me see what I’m searching for directly so I have to find my own way there and maybe … I just need to find the right kind of stepping stone.”
He shrugged and tapped the side of his glasses.
Vladi chuckled. “Oh, because human emotions are so much easier to understand than potions?”
Micah shrugged. “‘Haven’t given me a headache yet.” Then again, there was less to look at on a surface level than either of his other lenses or the imaginary worlds he dove into during appraisals.
Micah doubted he could dive far into emotions when they came from people who might interfere.
Lisa had talked about that a few times. Once, after he had screwed up with the stone essence.
I can’t check without hurting you, she’d said. I would literally have to shove my spirit in yours and grope around.
He hadn’t considered it at the time, but he was surprised she could even do that. Micah could extend his influence, but his actual spirit? Like having four arms?
Maybe he was misunderstanding her words, but he couldn’t know for sure. Nothing was more frustrating than not being able to ask.
“I thought you could use your sight to be a better [Alchemist]?” Vladi asked. “How can you not appraise potions?”
“Tower potions. And I can’t appraise them yet. They work differently from the ones we make and any decent appraisal will work on both. I want more than ‘decent’.”
Vladi smiled. “That’s more like you.”
He was almost certain Tower potions used what he referred to as ‘concept essences’ in his notes. Healing potions may well be highly concentrated, liquid ‘heal human essence’ as far as he knew, which meant he would need [Lens: Concept Sight] to appraise those with his bare eyes and he struggled with finding even a single essence like that to see, let alone enough to bundle together.
He would almost definitely have to rely on a level up which … made sense. Most people had to, even with teachers or the right training.
For once, he was bound to the same rules as everyone else.
Ugh.
“Hey, couldn’t your [Scout] Class help with that?” Mason asked. “As a sort of ‘stepping stone’?”
“Uhm, maybe? I don’t know if I want to level it. I haven’t really had time to consider what I want to do with the Class yet.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Basically, I just want to wait and see what happens.”
“I wouldn’t recommend doing that for too long,” Vladi commented and lifted something heavy guessing by the sound of his breath, “but good luck, either way, both of you. See you.”
“See you,” they echoed.
When he left, he could finally look down and rubbed his neck. It was almost stiff from the awkward angle.
Mason had continued planting the herbs along the pattern Micah had set. More bright motes were scattered among the chest. Some fizzled out and disappeared as he watched.
He did like doing this, huh? But there weren’t many near Mason himself, only in his work.
Micah crouched next to the chest to make notes and asked, “Mason, have you gotten any new Classes by now?”
“Nope. I’m a pure [Alchemist].”
“Why not dip into something else?”
He gave him a bemused look. “Get thee behind me, deceiver. Just because you did that to get stronger doesn’t mean I have to. I’m going to prove a pure [Alchemist] can climb.”
That … hurt surprisingly more than Micah would have thought. He had wanted to prove the same thing, once upon a time, and now he had two additional combat Classes and a warrior Path.
Even if he succeeded someday, would people still think of him as an [Alchemist] or point to those to dismiss him?
It was too late, now. He’d failed.
But … he’d gotten each Class for a reason. On some level, he had wanted them. Regret would do nothing but hurt him.
Can’t have everything, huh?
“You okay?” Mason asked.
“Huh? Oh, yeah!” He cheered up a bit. “I’m still awesome. But you—” He pointed at him.
“Me?”
“You better stick to your word, Mason. You prove it to them for us, okay?”
“Not going to make any promises, but I’ll try.”
“That’s all any of us can do,” Micah said and with a casual intake, the motes of light rose from the soil toward him.
He’d practiced being subtler about it. People had begun to give him looks.
But those essences lit up inside him like single rays of sunlight with the same intensity as single grains of sugar on his tongue.
Micah made notes with the corners of his lips tilted up, but that wasn’t enough to use. It was less than the crystal dust left behind in bottles and sacks.
How to get more?
“Oh, did you get your [Bettered Constitution] yet?” he asked. Coincidentally, if Mason had, maybe he could collect the happiness he felt at the thought?
He clenched his jaw instead and an inner flame alighted beneath his skin, licking his jawbone. “Not yet,” he said, “but I’ll get there.”
Micah stared with wide eyes as the spark faded as quickly as it had come. It looked so similar to fire but … more like glowing paint or molten glass. Different enough.
He drew a doodle in his journal and continued collecting motes. “And you wanted to ask something earlier …?”
“Did I?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh. Your roommate might have asked it already, then.”
“Hm.” Micah wracked his brain, couldn’t find anything, and groaned. “Mason!”
“What?”
“I’m trying to make conversation and collect a certain type of emotion here. Be happy!”
“I can’t just force myself to be happy on command, Micah. How about you try making me happy?”
“I’m trying, but I can’t think of any jokes or funny things to say.”
“Then try something else. Buy me some nice jewelry or dinner, or make dinner, ask about my day. You never care about how I feel,” he joked.
There were a few more flashes of enjoyment as he said it, but they were too close to his skin. Mason had to radiate them.
He had to get him to laugh.
He considered the few wisps he already had and got one of his traditional glass bottles.
When Mason looked, Micah set his lips to the distilled water inside and blew bubbles.
Mason stared at him in part disgust, and part amusement. For a moment, the emotions warred on his face, but then he gave in and laughed.
Light rippled off him then, breaking in odd places like raindrops falling on a lake, forming cloud outlines.
Micah grinned and with another short tug, pulled those essences to himself and blew more bubbles into his potion. It was still thin and there was less than a single crystal, but it was more than he’d had before.
And it was … different. It felt like bubbles inside his chest instead of that vital sunshine, like he was trying to stop himself from making a noise.
‘Laughter essence’ was more different from ‘enjoyment essence’ than air was from wind, he realized.
And he’d already infused his water with it …
Aw, man.
Now he had to filter it. This would be so much more complicated than he’d thought. The emotions had nuance.
“Some senior [Alchemist] you are,” Mason laughed. “You look like a sulking kid with a straw and a milkshake.”
“I’m beginning to see the error of my ways,” he said.
“So soon? Does that mean I leave? Do you need time?” He gestured at the door like an escape.
Micah scowled. “What kind of self-respecting [Alchemist] would give up at the first signs of a hurdle? No, I just need to work around them. I can manually sift through the essences after I’ve infused them to filter the ingredients, as I do for the wind and spit essences anyway, but … I need to find a better solution for the future. A sort of [Shape Essence] Skill?”
“Sure.”
Rather than look at him like everyone had at the start of the school year, like they had no idea what he was talking about or like Micah was crazy, Mason understood what he was talking about … and just didn’t care enough to get invested.
But he was still smiling. Micah pilfered what he could and flipped to the very back of his journal to add his thoughts to a list there.
He had been working on another way of manipulating essences before Lisa had seduced him with the sight of her drinking in an entire gym, because she apparently had an ungodly lung capacity, but the method that had resulted from that was mainly using his hands.
Micah needed something more sanitary and precise, like … tools. Maybe an item could help, come to think of it?
He would have to look that up. Another item on the list.
“I’m sort of glad you’re starting with fertilizer experiments,” Mason said, “because I sure as hell wouldn’t want to breathe any potions with your backwash in it.”
Micah smiled in bemusement. “We put far weirder stuff in potions and drink those.”
“Yeah, I’m saying you’re worse.”
“Ha-ha.”
At the bottom of a long list, Micah added, Need [Shape Essence] or something similar? Better, more sanitary way of infusing free-floating ess. After summer break(?) Psb. Item solution. E.g. surgical tools, scalpel, gloves.
“Whatcha’ got there?”
“Just my to-do list.”
“Can I see?”
He frowned; looked up. “Uhm … I guess?”
It was just a scribbled note stuck in the back pocket of his journal’s cover. He had to tidy it up soon anyway.
Micah pulled it out and passed it on.
Mason held it by the corners with his fingertips and still got mud on it.
He read and frowned. “Huh. This is … a lot.”
“It’s not that much. It’s for the summer break.”
He looked up. “Just the summer break?”
“What do you mean, ‘just’? That’s more than enough, and I’ll still have time to visit Ryan’s parents.”
He didn’t know how long he would stay yet, but he would find the time no matter what. He could train and study out in the country just as easily as he could at the foot of the Tower after all.
“Seems like you’ve got every second of the break planned out, then. No wonder why you wanted to hit two birds with one stone today.” He gestured at the chest.
“Two? I’m hitting like, four or five right now. I have to, or I’d never get anywhere. There’s too much to do.”
“I’d run myself ragged trying to do all this in such a short amount of time.”
“Yeah, but you hyperfocus on tasks and do them right. You know way more spells than I do.”
“And I have as many dropped projects, but … Micah, aren’t you spreading yourself a little too thin?”
“I don’t know? I don’t think so. It’s not like I’m abandoning any of my projects, I’m just … Did you sign up for one of the in-depth appraisals way back when?”
Mason nodded.
“Did you also get a report saying your Skills all influenced each other or see others’ that were like that?”
“Sure.”
“So like, if our vocations are interconnected like a web, I want to build mine like that on purpose. I’m putting a lot of focus on a few key points and a little bit of focus on stuff that’s far off to the edges but has overlap anyway, like appraising potions. Instead of giving one project my all, I’m giving three eighty percent of my effort at the same time. And yeah, that might delay the reward and mean extra work, but it should pay off in the long run, right? I think. I hope. In theory …?”
Mason mulled it over for a moment and said, “I guess … You know what works best for you and your results speak for themselves but … be careful you don’t take on too much at once? Take a break?”
“I will. Visiting Ryan’s parents! And I’ll still have time to do all the things I want to do after that.”
“Yeah, like … hunting golems.” Little ripples of amusement spread from him as he read it from the list.
Micah grinned. “I totally will.”
“Mhm. Or making real perfume, with the ‘real’ capitalized and underlined two times?” He flipped the page around to show him. “Are you getting bored with your fake floral water?”
“Oh, that’s a conditional task based on … if I get invited to the Registry party or not,” he mumbled the second half.
“You want to go?”
He nodded.
“Oh, so that explains the ‘attend dance lessons’ but uh, when will know if you’re chosen? At the end of the year?”
“For the others, yeah. But Principal Denner wants to have a meeting with me this week and I don’t know …”
“What? That’s great!” Mason said. “If she’s showing you special attention, trust me, that’s like confirmation right there.”
Micah looked at him and saw positive essences radiating off him. Absentmindedly, he collected them but … his eyes and the edges were slightly murky. Doubt. Mason was just trying to reassure him.
That was fine. It was the thought that counted and Micah had more than enough doubt himself.
“My grades aren’t perfect. They’ve barely improved since the midterms. Our final exam didn’t go all that well. I mean, I’m sure I’ll get a great score, but not a perfect one. She might just want to talk with me about my Path again. She does that with lots of students she can give personal advice to, checking in with them.”
“Oh, well at least you’ll have more time to focus on other things if you don’t get invited?” Mason asked.
“Sort of? Just because the alternative is still good, that doesn’t mean not getting invited won’t suck, you know? And uhm …” Micah started saying something and changed his mind. He wouldn’t want to jinx it or distract too much. “Nevermind.”
Mason looked at him for a moment longer to see if he would change his mind. When he didn’t, he nodded and said, “Yeah, I get that; sorry,” before looking back down.
The truth was, Micah would have lots of time to hang out with his friends before the party and if everything went well until then, if he didn’t embarrass himself and could impress Anne or something, and if he was invited, he would get to dance with her that evening. It would be like a date.
He wanted to ask her out on a real date, then.
But that was a lot of ‘ifs’ and just thinking about it made him feel like he was crazy so he said nothing.
“‘Happy flowers’,” Mason read and frowned. “‘Doctor’s appointment’?”
“Huh?”
He pointed. “‘Make a doctor’s appointment’? It’s also underlined. Is everything alright with you?”
And then there was that.
“Oh, yeah, everything’s alright,” Micah lied and the gears turned with barely any rust. “It’s just, you know how you go to various doctor’s a few times a year for check-ups and stuff? The dentist and stuff, even just to let them tap you with a few Skills and done?”
“Yes?”
“Well, my parents used to drag me to those and since … I have been living alone, I haven’t gone to any of them. I was just wondering if there was anything I had to do.”
“Oh, yeah that sounds like a good idea. Seems wise of you.”
“Yeah.” Micah smiled and was glad Mason wasn’t wearing the glasses anymore. No amount of morbid curiosity or justifications could make him want to look into the mirror right now.
He could see his own emotions but as with his field of influence, the results were oddly distorted and he could only see the surface level.
It was part of the reason why he needed someone else to help. The other part was just, the idea of forcing himself to smile so he could collect essences while he was on his own seemed somehow sad and hollow.
Over a year ago, he couldn’t have imagined himself thinking that way, but one of the best things Lisa and the school had taught him was the value of casual collaboration.
Sure, he was overprotective of his work, preferred getting his own way, and thought on a different wavelength than the others, but even just their company could be enough.
But maybe he deserved that, being alone, if he was going to lie to the same people who made him happy.
“Sorry,” Mason awkwardly said, “uhm, just realized I maybe shouldn’t have pried about private doctor stuff …?”
“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry, Mason—”
“You have nothing to apologize for. Gosh, I just made things even more awkward. Here, take your stupid list back.”
He said that while here, Micah sat with glasses that would let him see his best friend’s emotions someday because he didn’t know how to ask.
He needed to be better. “Sorry,” he said again and added, “Thank you.” When he took the note, he looked at the items Mason had read out loud and his eyes wandered down the list to the newest addition.
He really didn’t have the time or energy to devote to another project but … could an item help?
How?
He doubted he could find an item to shape essences for him, he could filter them himself afterward and probably beforehand, if he focused, so that left an issue of storage and harvest …
Micah both played into the issue of supply. He couldn’t use the glasses in a public setting so harvesting them from crowds was out of the picture for now. Asking more friends for their help seemed sleazy. But what about collecting them bit by bit? One bottle for each emotion …
He could keep them on him and infuse them over and over, but … their quality would still degrade over time. It wasn’t a true solution.
He needed some other way of storing magic and … he had a weird idea.
“Mason, you know more spells than me.”
“Okay.”
“Do you know if mana rings can store affinities?”
Micah could rip essences out of mana and use them to fuel his own. Why not collect as much happiness as he could, fuse it with his, and stuff it in a ring until he had enough to use?
Then again, maybe he could find someone who knew emotion spells to harvest the essences from, like Ms. Denner.
Essences torn from mana were often mental in nature and were often unpredictable in use—they were more ‘dream or thought of ice essence’ than true ‘ice essence’—but they could still be good to find out what might be worth further investigating.
Something else to consider.
“Uh,” Mason said and frowned, “I think so, but there could be issues with harming the ring or soiling it for future use, and I’m not sure the affinity stays ‘fresh’ …? If you only have a lesser affinity, it might become bland over time and you can only partially convert elemental mana back into pure mana, and if you have a high affinity, it might last longer, but you can’t revert it back at all so … you would have to gauge it yourself based on what you want to do. Why?”
He shook the foamy water. “I’m looking for storage options. Are there any rings made for affinities?”
“Yeah, sure. There’s all sorts of loot out there. If there’re specialized elemental ones, I’m sure there are emotion rings, too. [Bards] and other spellcasters use that kind of magic after all.”
“Right! Right …” Micah made another note to keep an eye out for something like that while he thought through options.
All climbers went shopping for items that suit them best eventually. He would have to do it, too. He kind of looked forward to it.
“Thank you,” he said and smiled with a small sigh. “If only I could afford a bottle of preservation.”
“Yeah,” Mason chuckled.
But they were rare and key organizations, climbing groups, and rich people hoarded them for emergency potions, so the demand drove the prices up.
Micah doubted he would be able to afford one in the next decade or so. He would have to get lucky.
Still, it was another thing to look forward to.
So much to look forward to.
He put on a smile and put his books away as the breeze picked up and the first raindrops hit the window glass.
Sure, it was a lot to do, but he could manage it! He had so far and now that school was nearly over … One way or another, he was going to have an awesome summer.