“Wassat?” Jordan said, cocking his head to the side like a confused puppy. Bryn noticed Luther’s equally confused, albeit less theatrical, expression and put his pen down.

“The Malefic Brewing Technique was founded in Morten and there’s no information on it anywhere in Zyphtal.” Bryn said, his casual tone implying he was speaking of common knowledge.

“Oh are you talking about when those skinny, pale kids draw in the mud? They called it Malefic-something.” Luther said scratching his chin.

“That’s it! Where did you see this?” Bryn asked excitedly.

Luther was surprised at Bryn’s sudden enthusiasm, slightly jumping back in his seat upon hearing him shout. “Calm down kid, heart problems run in my family and I haven’t done a single thing to prepare for that” he said gesturing for him to calm down. “I saw those weird kids in Dregmoor. My last mission there only ended a year ago so they’re probably still around.” He said as Bryn wrote this in his notebook with the enthusiasm of a true alchemy nerd.

“Alright that’s enough you two. I’ve done my part for the younger generation, see you when we dock.” Luther said, immediately falling asleep in his chair upon finishing his sentence. The loud snoring and drool pooling on the goblins lap was an obvious enough cue their briefing was over, and the party went to their room as the Boon continued to rock gently.

The pair began unpacking, going over their supplies without conversing too much. After a little while, Jordan was going over the additives he had brought. He saw he had a good supply of stun effects but not much for outright kills like poison.

“Hey Bryn does the Malafanta technique help you make poison? Asking for a friend that’s attempting to commit murder” he asked as Bryn looked over his notebook. Without looking up, Bryn continued to annotate the page he was on as he spoke.

“That’s exactly what it’s called, good job. To answer your question, it can but it depends how good at it I am. The potions and draughts I’ve made with ingredients back home were much more stable and safe for alchemy than what is available in Dregmoor. That’s mainly due to the effects from the war with Syreph on the environment, since the fighting caused a massive influx of den in the area. Because the ingredients were so dangerous, the alchemists of the area leaned into it and created a brewing technique that was high risk, high reward.” Bryn said, licking his thumb and flicking to the next page.

“I guess it makes sense that it’s risky. You’re using chemicals and fire. I’ve heard fire’s hot so that already is a big hurdle in the safety department.” Jordan said nodding his head.

“Yes fire hot, thank you Jordan” Bryn said sarcastically.

“Always looking out for you boss” Jordan said, pointing finger guns as Bryn stared with a blank expression.

“…Anyways, the process I use back home is pretty safe. If you follow the recipe, you can’t mess it up. On the other hand, this technique is easy to mess up, but it allows you to get more from each ingredient. I don’t know the details of how it works, but based on the rumors I’ve heard it could be a key to me being able to fight without eating into our costs too much” Bryn said continuing to make notes on his notes. Jordan looked at Bryn slightly sadly before nodding. While he didn’t feel this way, Jordan knew that Bryn felt like a burden on their team, and had a tendency to push himself too hard to overcompensate.

“So what are we thinking for when we get into town? We’ve got angry plants, angry frogs, and angry dudes to deal with.” Jordan asked, attempting to change the subject. Bryn looked pleased to move on from the previous topic, and opened his journal to where he had been writing during their meeting with Luther. Jordan looked out the window of their room as Bryn flipped through the pages, admiring the stars that shined brilliantly in the clear night sky.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“We should probably deal with the weird large toads first” Bryn said, snapping Jordan out of his brief moment of peace. “I have a few theories to try with them. Extreme temperature change would be the easiest way to go, what do you think?” Bryn asked.

Jordan looked up and stroked his chin as he thought. “Well before we get into any strategy, we should establish something else first: do you want to just coast like Luther was hinting about? We could just do the bare minimum and collect the easy money and points. It might do our bodies good to take it easy before the tournament.” Jordan said, tilting his head slightly and raising his hands palms up.

Bryn thought about Jordan’s suggestion, which immediately did not sit right with him. As he thought through the logic, he felt his indecisiveness creep up on him. It was a good point that they had worked themselves into the ground in the past 6 months to survive in their difficult circumstances, and resting might be more helpful in the long run.

Jordan laughed loudly, snapping Bryn out of his state of deep thought. “You’re such a try hard! The possibility of not doing the best possible job freaks you out, it’s so funny to see happen in real time!” Jordan said, laughing loudly as tears began to come out of his eyes.

Bryn glared at him and crossed his arms, but began to chuckle slightly himself by the time Jordan had calmed down. As he wiped the tears from his eyes, Jordan continued.

“Don’t worry my feathered friend, I’ve come to terms with your annoyingly good work ethic. If we’re in a party, that means we’re doing every part of the job as best we can, no crumbs remaining. Am I right?” Jordan asked with a smile.

“Yes you are, and you’re annoying” Bryn said as he picked up his journal once again, attempting to conceal his feelings as men do. Can we get back to it now that you’re done ridiculing who I am as a person?” Bryn asked sarcastically.

“I’ll never be done, but I’ll take a break.” Jordan said.

Bryn sighed and continued as they made their initial plans for their quests in Dregmoor. The hours passed as the two of them discussed their various strategies for the quest ahead. The night eventually drew to a close, and the pair went to bed, exhausted after a long day. As he fell asleep, Jordan felt a familiar sensation.

He awoke without waking up. He could sense that he was conscious, yet remained in utter blackness, unable to move.

“Please tell me you’re there spooky disembodied voice, otherwise this is a different thing and I should be way more scared” Jordan thought.

“…Good Lord there’s no way to be dramatic anymore. What’s the point of having immense magical power if you can’t be dramatic.” The voice spoke with a familiar tired energy, and Jordan recognized it as the voice from his dream after his first mission with Bryn.

“Long time no invasion of my mind. I’m a little hungry, is dream invasion snacking a thing?” Jordan thought. He couldn’t physically feel his stomach rumbling, yet he knew in his mind he was getting peckish.

“Ugh light on” the voice said, and as Jordan heard those words, his vision reappeared. He was standing in a room that looked similar to his childhood room in his home village. In fact, it was. The twin bed was made neatly, the same as he left it the day he left for Zyphtal. His father’s painting was on the wall, an image of Jordan fighting as a ranger that he had commissioned for his 10th birthday. He smiled fondly on his father’s art, the detail still impressive all these years later.

“We get it you’re sentimental, sit down” the voice said, this time coming from behind Jordan as he looked toward the door. The man before him was wearing a plain white robe, sandals, and had an eyepatch over his left eye. His dark brown beard was neatly trimmed, and bald head shined with an unnaturally bright sheen.

“Who are you?” Jordan asked, becoming more concerned by the moment that this bald stranger knew where his parents lived.

“Relax we aren’t actually here, I thought this just might be a nice thing to see first.” The man said, pacing around the room as Jordan sat down.

“See first?” Jordan asked, but the man ignored him and continued speaking.

“Look I don’t need to tell you who I am, it’s not close to time yet anyway. Do you remember what I told you last time?” He asked sternly, the energy he spoke with increasing the more he spoke.

“If I recall you rudely said something about not being stupid” Jordan said, crossing his arms.

“That’s right, and it’s not bad so far, but you’ll still fail at this point. I put a lot of money on you and I have 3 helps, so I’m going to burn this one early. Try to make better progress on your own from here.” The main said snapping his fingers. Jordan attempted to shout, but the room disappeared along with his body, and he was returned to the darkness.

A few moments of silence passed before Jordan was blinded by a flash of light. He slowly opened his eyes, squinting as he adjusted his vision. He could see his body again, and he was standing in a throne room wearing an emerald cloak. The room was made entirely of stone, though it was difficult to see through the thick vines that covered every surface. He looked up and saw an empty throne, covered in vines with a stone statue on either side. To the left was an eye, wide open and it felt to Jordan as if it was staring into his soul. On the other side was a simple crown, yet the aura around it felt strange and…wrong. Despite the ominous atmosphere in the room with him, Jordan felt compelled to walk forward. As he began taking his steps, he accidentally crushed a vine under his foot. Looking down he saw his foot was covered in red, spiky thorns. Despite a couple dozen barbs clearly sticking out of his foot, he felt no pain. He continued forward, with the vines continuing to impale his body with thorns. As he arrived in front of the throne, he realized his body was made of more thorns than flesh. Still, he felt compelled to sit on the throne. As he did, only one thought came to mind.

The heir has claimed the throne.