The oak door swung open with a creak, revealing a thin boy who Grayton quickly recognized as his childhood friend, Vincent. He wore a green tactical cloak over a blue shirt and some black sweatpants.
"You're early," Vincent commented as he stepped aside, signaling for Grayton to enter. "When I saw your text, I thought you were going to arrive this afternoon."
"After lunch? No way I'm missing out on the opportunity to leech on you for food!" Grayton joked. He took off his shoes and stored them on a shelf before closing the door behind him.
Vincent let out a small chuckle. "Of course."
"But seriously though, I did buy fish and chips for both of us, but I ran into this homeless guy on the way and... Y'know." Grayton explained.
"Figured." Vincent replied. The two talked without even facing each other, a habit they cultivated together because they thought it looked cool at the time that somehow stuck through the years.
The interior of Vincent's house was nothing short of fancy. The first floor was separated into 5 areas. The south area contained a living room and a bathroom and was the first area connected to the entrance door. The west area contained the dining room and kitchen, while the north area had a shower and an office. Finally, the east area contained the garage and storage, which Vincent used as his makeshift workshop for tinkering. In the middle of it all was a circular garden centered around a redwood sapling.
"You know what's funny?" Vincent asked.
"What?"
"I actually had something to tell you as well, but when I went to text you, I saw that you were already coming." He chuckled.
"Heh, what a coincidence." Grayton replied. "Wanna bet on who has the bigger news?" He suggested, brimming with confidence.
"Sure." Vincent answered without much delay; had he turned to look at the giant warning sign plastered all over Grayton's face, he may have made a different decision. "Loser buys dinner."
The two walked past the living room onto the west side, where Grayton set down the food he bought on the thick ceramic dining table while Vincent continued to the kitchen, presumably to wash some dishes.
"I guess he was in the middle of doing some chores when I came..." Grayton concluded. He carefully pulled back one of the teak chairs settled under the table, trying to avoid scratching the black, shiny marble floors. "This place will never not make me nervous, no matter how many times I visit." Grayton thought as he looked around the house, spotting Asian antique decorations one after another; each one looked more expensive than the last.
With a sigh, he stopped his eyes from wandering and opted to focus on opening the plastic packaging of the fish and chips in front of him instead. Once he got it to open, Grayton threw out the trash and started to dig into his meal.
Vincent returned to the dining room a few minutes later with a giant bowl filled with dumplings. A tinge of surprise mixed with irritation came across his face when he saw Grayton already halfway through his meal.
"You... You started eating already?"
"Well, yeah. You thought I was being serious when I said I'd take your food?" Grayton retorted, his mouth half full with food.
"C'mon man." Vincent sighed, placing the bowl down with more force than needed. "What am I supposed to do with this, then?"
"Careful, you might break that." Grayton warned. "Just give it to me in a tupperware, I'll find someone to give them to."
"Yeah you probably will." Vincent agreed. He pulled another chair back and sat on it before continuing. "Anyways, you said you had something really important to tell me."
"Oh yeah, that-"
"So important that you had to bombard my DMs with stickers after sending the same message, in all caps, might I remind you, 5 times." Vincent remarked sarcastically, a smug smile on his face.
"Right..." Grayton scratched the side of his head. "I did do that while stalling in front of the monster."
"It really was important." Grayton laughed, unwilling to admit defeat. Not when he had something so amazing up his sleeve.
"Well? What is it then?" Vincent asked expectantly.
Those words sounded like music in Grayton's ears. He stood up with a cheeky smile on his face and walked a few steps backward, all the while maintaining eye contact with Vincent.
"This!" Grayton said as he conjured a portal under his feet and another behind Vincent, cackling as he fell into the purplish depths. Unlike last time, however, his journey to the destination was over in mere seconds. He could barely catch a glimpse of the wonderful starry expanse before he found himself rising through the floor behind his very confused friend.
"Huh, I guess the distances between the portals affect the travel time." Grayton thought as he tapped Vincent on his shoulder, causing him to jolt in surprise and turn suddenly. He made sure Vincent saw the portals clearly before dismissing them.
"What was...?" Vincent muttered before cutting himself off when he processed what happened. "No fucking way... You-"
"That's right! I got superpowers!" Grayton laughed as he lightly smacked Vincent's back. "Hah, you should've seen your face!"
"What the hell..." Vincent stood for a moment, still dumbfounded. His face beamed with curiosity and enthusiasm once he recovered. "So, how does it work? Wait, actually, how did you find out? What happened?"
"Now, where do I start..."
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"So that's about it." Grayton finished. He told Vincent all about the recent events. While he explained, Vincent simply sat back down and ate the dumplings while listening intently.
"Hmm." Vincent paused, making sure to finish chewing his mouthful before speaking.
Grayton silently waited as Vincent took another bite from a puffy dumpling.
"So, can you make portals anywhere? Like is there no limit?" Vincent inquired, folding his hands together on the table.
"Well, it does take a little more concentration to go to farther places..." Grayton gestured with his hands, attempting to open a portal to the other end of the city. He quickly found out that it took a lot more time and effort than he expected. An awkward silence came about the two as Grayton struggled. "Okay, yeah. It takes way longer to go to far places."
"..." Vincent gave no response, he only stared blankly at the open portal beside the dining table.
"Vince?" Grayton called out as he dismissed the portal.
"O-oh, yeah, I heard you. It's just so... fascinating that such a thing actually exists." Vincent stated. "Supernatural forces, I mean."
"There's probably some sort of logic behind them..." Grayton theorized. "We just gotta find out."
"Like scientists..." Vincent muttered.
"Exactly like scientists." Grayton confirmed.
"Anyways, guess I'm buying dinner. Absolutely no way I can top this news." Vincent exhaled loudly. "I guess I'll tell you straight up; no point in building suspense anymore. I finally got a lathe."
Grayton raised his eyebrows. "You mean that machine thingy that was apparently so expensive even your parents wouldn't buy it for you?"
"I'm surprised you remembered; I think I only mentioned it once or twice years ago." Vincent raised his eyebrows to match Grayton's.
"I'm just as surprised." Grayton admitted. "So how did you do it? You saved up?" Grayton continued jokingly.
"Won it at a poker table." Vincent replied in a matter-of-fact tone.
This immediately triggered a wave of skepticism in Grayton. "No strings attached? What did you bet?"
"Against my own father." Vincent added. "I bet 2 years worth of chores. What? You actually thought I was stupid enough to bet at a casino?" He continued, turning to face Grayton with a smirk on his face. "You should've seen your face."
"Tch." Grayton rolled his eyes. "Can't spell Vincent without petty in it, huh?"
"That makes no sense at all, freak."
They shared a small chuckle before Vincent suddenly stood up.
"So, wanna see it?" Vincent asked, already making his way to the storage room without waiting for Grayton's answer.
"It's here?"
Vincent replied with a face that could only be interpreted as, "Where else?"
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Vincent opened the door to the storage room, revealing a surprisingly clean yet messy workshop. Out of all the clutter of tools and failed welds on the floor, 3 machines stood out to Grayton. One of them was a laser cutter; its bulky frame had a shiny surface, a clear sign of being routinely cleaned. Another was a 3D printer; it wasn't as clean as the other machines, but it still appeared well-kept. Lastly, in the middle of these machines was the lathe.
Grayton couldn't even comprehend how the machine would work. It was a giant hunk of metal with a circular handle aligned to its side and more sophisticated parts pointing inward from different angles. On the side of the machine were a group of buttons under a keyboard and screen.
"How do you even use something like this..." Grayton pondered as he moved closer to the machine, running his hand over its metallic frame. "How much would this even cost?"
"Beautiful isn't it?" Vincent called out, his face beaming with pride. It was a rare sight to see him with such pure, enthusiastic energy.
"Sure, but do you even know how to use it?" Grayton asked, intimidated by the sheer complexity of the machine.
"In theory." Vincent answered, maintaining his aura of optimism. "It'll probably take a bit for me to be able to competently make anything with it, though."
"A bit?"
"Well anyway," Vincent said, turning around to exit the room. "I don't have any materials or plans right now, so it won't see any use yet. Tell me, though, if you have any ideas."
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
"Mhm." Grayton responded, following Vincent out of the room. "I don't even know what a lathe can do."
"Well, anyway, let's continue about your situation." Vincent said, sitting down on his brown leather living room sofa. "What will you do going forward?"
"That's... what I came here to discuss." Grayton sighed, sitting down on a chair next to his friend. "There's not much information to go off right now."
"There really isn't much." Vincent agreed. "I suggest checking on that leviathan and try to establish some sort of communication with it; maybe try and teach it language?" Vincent suggested.
"That's going to be hard; dictionaries won't last long down there." Grayton shook his head. "Though, perhaps I could send my thoughts back to it like it does to me..."
"Try that, then." Vincent said. "That leviathan is your only lead into knowing more about this whole thing. Either that or you find someone else with powers who is kind enough to teach you without misleading you for their own advantage."
"Hmm." Grayton concurred before he heard a snicker escape his friend's lips. "What?"
"Oh, nothing." Vincent smiled. "It's just that I thought about how fitting it is for someone like you to get a superpower."
"No..." Grayton clenched his fist under the table. He already knew what his friend was about to say. He couldn't bear to look his friend in the eye as he said it.
"Haha!" Vincent laughed, mistaking his gesture for that of bashfulness. "After all..."
"Stop."
"You're the kindest person I know!" Vincent finished his sentence. "It's so comically fitting that someone like you gets to be a hero-"
"I just remembered something I have to do." Grayton interrupted. "Sorry, I have to leave now; I'll be sure to keep your suggestion in mind."
"Oh," Vincent said, a disappointed expression on his face. "What about dinner?"
"That'll have to wait another time. Bye!" Grayton said as he hurriedly exited the room.
Grayton turned to see Vincent waving him a goodbye as he exited the room.
"I'm not a kind person..." Grayton thought as he walked through the house. "I've just fooled everybody into thinking I am."
Grayton quickly ended up behind the front door, where he retrieved his black sneakers from the shelf. "The 'good' things I do, I do because of my own selfish compulsion. Well, by that logic, does true kindness even exist?"
He bent down to tie his shoelaces. However, he spotted something weird on the way up. Above the shoe shelf, was an array of books, standing vertically. However, one of the books stood out to him.
"Percy Jackson... Didn't he always hate this book?" Grayton raised an eyebrow as he stepped closer to examine the book. "Could it be?"
Grayton slowly reached for the book and tried to pull it out, quickly finding out that he was unable to. Instead, the shelf under the book emitted a barely audible click, and a part of a wooden surface flipped open like a hatch, allowing a leather handle to silently pop out from the hole. Grayton immediately felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, and pulled out the handle, revealing a shiny steel knife.
"How many of these hidden weapons are in this house?" Grayton asked rhetorically. "I bet there's a bunch under that green cloak he always wears as well..."
Grayton quickly slid the blade back into its empty slot, wearing an expression that was not one of surprise but instead one of melancholy and resignation. In his heart, he knew all along that Vincent's cheerful attitude was but a facade and that he was still struggling with the trauma from the horrific incident even now.
"And yet here I am, walking away as if I didn't see anything... And I loathe myself for it." Grayton thought. After all, what could he do? He could never fully understand Vincent's pain, as he never went through what he did, in a sense, and an uneducated attempt to "help" would just hurt him more. "But at the end of the day, those are just excuses, aren't they?"
"Though you could say that even the simple notion of trying to help would make him feel better," Grayton thought as he walked down the sidewalk with his head hung low. "I just can't afford to damage my friendship with him."
That was when Grayton saw his vision suddenly become blurry, and his eyelids felt like they were filled with lead.
"Mmh?" Grayton stumbled, unable to walk properly with his weakening body. "What...?"
That was the last thought that filled Grayton's mind before everything went dark.
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Grayton woke up tied up in a chair with his hands behind him. The first thing he saw was the maple wood flooring under his chair. Slowly looking up, he saw a purple-haired woman with her arms crossed in front of him, dressed in what he could only describe as a dark purple stereotypical witch dress with blue columbine flower patterns embroidered scattered around the skirt of the dress.
"You're finally awake." The woman spoke in a tone that tried to command confidence but was betrayed by a quaver in her voice. Her bangs obscured half of her face, but it was painfully easy to tell that she was quite nervous.
It didn't take long for him to realise that he had been kidnapped.
"Let's see, judging by her clothing and the surroundings, this is most likely something magic related." Grayton casually looked around the room, spotting multiple notes and diagrams on monstrosities that looked like nothing he's ever seen before and a metal cauldron on the other side of the room. "The fact that I'm sitting here means that she doesn't want me dead..."
"Hey." The witch leaned closer to Grayton and snapped her fingers in front of his face in an attempt to get his attention.
"I wonder what she wants... Maybe she needs me for a potion ingredient?" Grayton amusedly conjectured based on her clothing before quickly debunking it. "Unlikely, if she needed a part of me, she would've probably just cut it off while I was sleeping.
"Hey." The witch called out again with a more irritated tone.
"It doesn't seem like I'm in any danger." Grayton thought as he gazed at the open window to his right. The sight outside the window told him that this room was in some sort of elevated position, and the setting sun meant that it was well into the late afternoon. "I could simply put a portal under my feet if anything happens. So, let's have some fun."
"Hey!" The witch yelled as she physically shook his shoulders before stopping herself abruptly and retreating back a few steps. "L-listen up."
"Pfft." Grayton scoffed as he saw the young witch in front of him fidgeting with her hands. "You're doing a miserable job at being a kidnapper, you know that?"
"I-uh, You-!" The girl stuttered, obviously flustered. It took a few deep breaths before she could continue. "W-whatever! You're here, tied up in that chair; that's all that matters!" She ended the sentence with a smug smile, pointing a finger at him with her other hand placed on her hip.
Grayton stared at her with a blank expression, silently waiting for her to hold the position until it became awkward.
He watched the witch's outstretched hand start to quiver as she felt the burst of confidence start to dissipate. Her smile became stiffer and more forced as time went on. As expected, it didn't take very long for her to retract her hand and turn into a stuttering, fidgeting mess.
"So damn easy." Grayton brandished a belittling smile as soon as her composure crumbled. "So, why did you bring me here?"
Grayton snickered as he saw the witch struggle to recover and answer him for the next few moments. However, once she did, she assumed a more calm demeanor, and her expression turned grim, as if his question actually grounded her thoughts.
"Well... I-I would like to apologize, first of all." The witch started. Her hands were still fidgeting, but her voice was firm. This change in behaviour gave Grayton a terrible feeling. "I brought you here... To turn you into a thrall." She exhaled deeply, as if relieved to finally say it.
"Thrall?" Grayton asked. He already knew what the word implied, but he needed to make sure.
"O-oh, right, you wouldn't know." The witch paused, seemingly contemplating her next choice of words. "I am a witch. Which means that on top of having the ability to tap into the natural flow of mana in the world, I can also craft what you people would call potions, elixirs, or serums. There are other things a witch can do, but they aren't relevant to your situation."
"Nice, I need to gather what information I can before my escape." Grayton listened intently, allowing her to continue without interruption.
"The point is, every witch will need an assistant; this is where thralls come in." She continued. Her voice was free from her usual stutter, as if she were reciting from a textbook explanation. "Thralls are created when a person is fed a potion of enthrallment by a witch. After ingestion, said person will lose their sentience periodically, and after 3 hours, they will turn into nothing but mindless husks, unable to resist any command from the witch they are enthralled by."
As the witch spoke, she looked at Grayton with an expression filled with pity and reluctance, which irritated him.
"Some witches do take in un-brainwashed people as assistants as opposed to thralls, but those are liberties only afforded usually by witches higher up on the hierarchy."
"That's fucked." Grayton gave out a dry laugh. He imagined what anyone else would feel in his shoes—someone without an escape cheat like him, forced to wait in this chair, unable to do anything. "Why didn't you feed it to me in my sleep, then?"
"The person has to be awake for it to work." The witch explained, walking towards her cauldron. "And the potion needs to be ingested 10 minutes after its creation, so I had to wait for you to wake up. I'll start making the potion now, I'm sorry."
"How many people have fallen victim to these witches?" Grayton thought before a devious smirk appeared on his face. "Well, whatever. That girl is naive if she thinks I'm gonna sit here nicely just because of some sappy apology."
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"One! Eighty-six! Four! Three! Seven! Sixty-nine!" Grayton yelled before bursting into laughter. For the past few minutes, he had been observing the witch's work process and attempted to distract her using various methods at times when he thought the witch needed to focus the most. He had given up on gathering information as the witch would simply ignore him once she started working, so he instead started trying to be as disruptive as humanly possible.
"Hrmm..." The witch quietly grumbled as she once again lost track of all her mental measurements due to Grayton's antics.
"The cow goes moo! The chicken cluck! And the ambulance goes weewoo!" Grayton laughed. He revelled in how well his distraction worked, and every time she had to go back to her notes or was forced to write something down, it gave Grayton the motivation to shout even louder. "Did you hear me? The ambulance goes weewoo! WEEWOO WEWOO WEWOO!"
"P-please, just shut up!" The witch finally yelled exasperatedly as she stirred the bubbling contents of the cauldron. The strange liquid inside seemed to violently boil when she added another ingredient despite no actual fire being under the cauldron.
"Oh, please! Why would I make your job easier when you're trying to kill me?" Grayton retorted. "A normal person would be throwing a louder tantrum, probably sobbing or calling you all sorts of obscene things."
"L-look, me and a friend of mine will be in big trouble if I don't do this now, so I r-really don't have a choice either!"
"Oh, really now? Are you saying that just to appeal to my heartstrings, or does this friend of yours actually exist?" Grayton asked in a goading tone. He knew that the witch was probably not lying, but being accused of deceit would often agitate a person more than actual insults. "Please, enlighten me on your situation."
"Y-you! Do you have any idea what position you're in?" The witch lashed out, suddenly turning to face him. The sudden motion caused her to accidentally sweep a vial of mysterious red liquid off the table beside her, which was presumably one of the ingredients for the potion, causing it to shatter on the floor. This caused the witch to stop her outburst, and an awkward silence befell the room as she stared at the broken vial on the floor.
"Now you've done it." She sighed as she reached for her broom. "I'll need to buy more ingredients and start over. I hope you like waiting even longer for your demise." She huffed as she rode her broom out of the window, leaving Grayton alone in that room.
"Heheh," Grayton chuckled once he was confident the witch was out of earshot. "Now, the real fun begins!"
Grayton conjured two inverted portals, each of which faced the stiles of the chair. The resulting bolts broke the stiles of the chair, causing the top half of the chair to collapse, freeing his hands. From there, it was a trivial matter to free his legs as well.
"Let's see..." Grayton rose from his seat and stretched his back. He made his way to the table beside the cauldron filled with notes and started to read them. There was a name titled on top of these notes that were mostly about potion making: Keyla Louvencra. He assumed this to be the name of the witch who kidnapped him. Reading the strict instructions on the notes, an idea suddenly popped into Grayton's mind. "It's painfully obvious that these recipes were created from trial and error. But what if there are rules that all of these recipes must follow to be successful?" Grayton mused.
At first, he didn't take the thought too seriously, but as he read through the various recipes, it became clearer that he could probably not only draw connections between all the recipes—"But maybe I could also come up with some sort of formula for potion making?"
"Potion of strength, potion of water breathing... Potion of pinky expansion?" Grayton read the notes to see a few ingredients that came up multiple times in multiple recipes. He also observed that all recipes basically go through the same process: adding ingredients and stirring. The step is repeated multiple times in most recipes with some exceptions and inconsistency, but that's pretty much the only difference.
"I have a theory..." Grayton thought as he feverishly read through the notes, his curiosity piqued. "If we think about making a potion as reach a certain value, each ingredient would contain a certain number that, when added together, creates said. value. If that is the case, with the information I have right now, it should be simple algebra to find out the ingredient values, wouldn't it?"
Grayton flipped through more pages of notes, the sound of paper fluttering could be heard across the room. "And if I manage to do that, wouldn't I theoretically be able to make any potion even with lacking ingredients? I'll just substitute the missing ingredient with multiple different ingredients to achieve the same value!"
He smiled, feeling as if he had won some sort of jackpot. "Even if I'm wrong, I can just steal all these notes and learn potion making the legit way. Either way, I win!"
"Now, how do I escape once she gets back? Just portalling out would be boring, and I don't know how much they know about my ability, so I'd rather not show too much." Grayton pondered as he approached the windowsill. Looking out the window, he saw that this room was located in a treehouse and had a 3 meter drop to the ground and some bushy plains. It was a small plot of empty land in the middle of the city, usually owned by stingy business owners with a vendetta against the city government or, in this case, a witch.
"Oh yeah, there and there and there... Yeah, this definitely works." Grayton grinned, formulating a mischievous plan in his head. "I can't wait to see her reaction to this. Keyla, was it? This'll be exciting."
"But first," Grayton thought as he made his way back to the table and picked up a nearby pencil. "Let's do some research."