Chapter Nine

  “As part of the Innovation Initiative, citizens of the second and third class will be granted the opportunity to enter the Lottery of Education once every five years and apply for direct apprenticeship under the Arcane Arts Ministry every ten.”

  – Magistra Saranna Featherstone of Her Grace’s Order of Radiance

  ~*~

  You have one selection available.

  The remaining skills open at the first order level were: Detect Decay, Encourage Growth and Energy Transduction. Technically, two of those were prerequisites, but without them, she’d be losing out on additional skills down the line. She was tempted to write detect decay off entirely, but took a moment to consider. She’d sensed the negative energy from the wilted fern frond before. That had to have been some form of decay, right?

  If it was anything like her detect life skill, she’d be able to use both read energy and detect decay to build upon one another in order to garner more information about whatever it was she was looking at. She could think of a few uses off the top of her head, but she wasn’t sure they were particularly useful to her in the long run. Encourage growth, on the other hand, had some interesting applications.

  Unlocking the prerequisite would grant her access to Generate Barkskin and Cultivate Microorganism once she reached her third order. The former of which might prove useful in terms of defense. She may not be sure what she might face going forward, but a little living armor couldn’t hurt, right?

  “Select encourage growth, please,” she said.

  As you wish. All available selections have been made.

  Liv didn’t feel any different, not the way she had when she’d chosen arcane spring, but it was simply a prerequisite, after all. Even so, she was satisfied with her choice. There was no telling how useful it might be in the future.

  The governance side of things had a few interesting avenues as well. Wield Flora and Shape Flora both came with some interesting implications and she was, admittedly, eager to test them out. All she had to do was reach her third order. Patience wasn’t exactly a strong suit of hers, but she had to remind herself this was her first day in this strange new world she found herself in. Progress would take time.

  Dismissing her spiritbook, she snuggled deeper into the crochet wool blanket, content to watch the fire until dinner was finally ready. She was warm, dry and healthy. As far as impromptu interdimensional travel was concerned, she was doing pretty well. Thanks in no small part to Kaedric, of course. She wasn’t sure where she’d be right now, if it weren’t for him. With her luck and sense for direction, she’d have likely wandered further away from civilization instead of toward it.

  She’d have to learn to remedy that shortcoming too, she realized.

  Fortunately, she knew just the man to teach her.

  “What is venison, exactly?” She asked, “I meant to ask you before, but it slipped my mind.”

  She was fairly certain she’d heard the term before, probably from a video game, but she couldn’t remember exactly what it was. Elk, maybe? Rabbit?

  “It’s deer meat,” Kaedric said, ladling a portion into one of two bowls, “Do you not have them where you’re from?”

  “We do, but they’re not farmed the way other animals are, from what I’ve seen. I’m more familiar with cows and chickens and pigs,” she said.

  “It’s not all that different here, but sheep are a more popular choice here in the valley. Goats too, but I prefer to catch my dinner, not farm it.”

  “I can respect that. Are you some sort of fur trader, then?”

  He offered her a steaming bowl, “I was for quite some time, but these days I’m mostly here to keep the predators in check. The farmers hired me to help keep the livestock safe. I tan or preserve whatever hides I get, though. I’m not keen on wasting good material. Whatever I don’t use, I give to the farmers to process and we split the profit when they sell in Ralencia.”

  “Thanks,” she said, adjusting her seat so she wouldn’t spill, “That doesn’t sound like a bad arrangement.”

  “It suits me for the time being.”

  “Do you forage too or do you also get your produce from the farmers?” She wondered.

  “A bit of both. This time of year, there’s plenty to be found in the forest, so I gather and preserve most everything,” he said, finding his own seat.

  His admission all but confirmed her earlier suspicions and a flicker of hope welled in her heart.

  “Would you be able to teach me some of what you know? I know next to nothing about anything that isn’t a houseplant and something tells me changing that fact might be in my best interest while I’m here.”

  “With your alignment to cultivation, I’m inclined to agree,” he said, seeming to consider a moment, “I don’t see the harm in it, but I have to ask, what is it you plan on doing now?”

  She bit her lip, “I was hoping to follow this lead of yours. You said you knew someone who could help, right?”

  “I do, but I’m not sure we’d be able to find them in Ralencia.”

  “Where else would they be?”

  “Last I heard, they were working at the Institute of Innovation in Giaval,” he said, staring at the fire for a moment.

  “That’s an interesting connection to have,” she said, “Who is it you know, exactly?”

  “Just an old friend. We don’t exactly keep in contact, but I might be able to get you an audience with them.”

  “Really?” She asked.

  “I can’t make any promises,” he said, stirring around his stew, “But I’ll see what I can do.”

  “The fact you’re willing to do any of this is . . . it’s a lot. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Miss Lockard. I can’t have you running off to get yourself killed now, can I?”

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “You’re definitely swinging the odds in my favor,” she said, “And you can call me Liv, too. No need for Miss Lockhard.”

  “Is that what you’d prefer?”

  “The alternative sounds a bit too formal, don’t you think?” She asked.

  “Formal, but proper. Especially when in public.”

  She tilted her head, “Are people going to look at us funny if we’re calling each other by our first names?”

  “Depending on what part of the city we’re in, yes.”

  “Oh,” she said, blinking, “Well, in that case I suppose I’ll follow your lead.”

  “I can still call you Liv while we’re here,” he said.

  She relaxed a little, “Are you all right with me calling you Kaedric, then?”

  “In private, I see no problem with it,” he said.

  “And in public?”

  “Mr. Vosskan, if you will. You’re likely to draw enough questioning looks as it is.”

  “Deal,” Liv said, finally indulging in a few spoonfuls of stew.

  It was more gamey than she was used to, but it was by no means unpleasant. Different, but good. Really good. The man could rival the Silver Brother’s head chef. Her entire portion vanished within the span of a few short minutes.

  “Like it?” Kaedric asked, watching her with a slight air of amusement.

  “Was my empty bowl not enough of an indication?” She asked, angling it for his inspection.

  “It never hurts to ask,” he said, lips edging into a sliver of a smile.

  “It’s good,” she chuckled, “more than worthy of a second helping.”

  When he made to stand, she held him at bay with a finger, “Eat. You’re the one who cooked. I can wobble over on my own, I promise.”

  Kaedric gave her a skeptical look, but settled back down without any further argument.

  Her feet were still tender, but whatever salve he’d given her had a slight numbing quality to it. It helped that none of the wounds were particularly large or deep. They were more annoying than anything and provided they didn’t get infected, she’d probably be completely fine in a day or two.

  She refilled her bowl with a hum, then promptly returned to her comfy seat.

  “If you’re keen on learning, we’re going to have to find you the proper apparel. Boots, most pressingly, given your current lack, but more clothes and a proper cloak wouldn’t hurt either,” he said.

  “I wouldn’t say no to supplies,” she said, chewing the inside of her cheek a moment as she debated whether or not to show Kaedric her strange little crystal clusters, “I don’t have any money, but I might have something we could trade?”

  “No offense, Mis– Liv, but I don’t think anyone is going to be interested in those impractical shoes of yours.”

  “No, no, not those. Here, it’s probably best if I just show you,” she said, setting her stew upon the low table between them and retrieving her booted heels from the washroom where she’d left them tucked beside the bathtub.

  “Show me what?” He asked, eyeing her return with a certain skepticism.

  “This,” she said, pulling one of the clusters free and presenting it to him.

  His eyes widened a margin as his lips parted, but he didn’t immediately take it.

  “Where did you get this?” He asked.

  “My arm, if you’d believe it,” she replied.

  His reach was hesitant when he finally took it and turned it over in his hand. He brushed his thumb over the glyph pattern along the bottom of the cluster, lips pursing. Had he seen something like this before?

  “How?”

  “Well, when I woke up, it felt like my arm was on fire. I managed to deal with the pain for a little while, but when I came across that stream, I thought the water might help cool it off,” she said, “it did, thankfully, but I made the water boil for a few seconds. I felt my arm go heavy and when I pulled it out, I had that sprouting from my brand.”

  “Was this the only one?” He asked, though she assumed he already knew the answer.

  Biting her lip, she slowly shook her head, “What is it?”

  “Tempered arcana, from what I can tell. I’ve heard artifacts generate an excess of arcane energy when bound, but I’ve never seen it for myself.”

  “Are artifacts common?”

  “Not to my knowledge and those that do exist rarely circulate. Treasures are another matter, but even the lesser ones can be pricey. I’m no expert, but I don’t think drawing attention to yours is a good idea. We should find you some gloves.”

  She glanced down at her arm and while her sleeve hid the brand well enough, it was still clear as day where it marked her palm.

  “That’s probably a good idea. Is tempered arcana worth anything?”

  “It is, but we should be careful where we choose to sell it. An item like this is bound to draw attention. There are those who won’t ask too many questions, but it might still be a risk. Are you sure you want to part with it?”

  “I don’t exactly have another means of income, at the moment. It’s not the only one I have either, so I figured I could sell it.”

  “How many more do you have?”

  “Two more in my boots,” she said, not quite willing to share the full extent of her stash.

  His eyes flickered to her boots, not in interest, but mild concern, “One is a small fortune unto itself. I’d keep the rest, if I were you. I hear they’re useful for advancement down the line.”

  “You seem to know quite a bit about this sort of thing,” she said.

  He shrugged and handed the crystal cluster back to her, “The friend I mentioned before always had an interest in the arcane. What I know, I learned from them. After two hundred or so years, you come to learn quite a bit, if you put your mind to it.”

  “Fair enough,” she said, “With that amount of time at your disposal, I’d imagine you could do just about anything.”

  “Some of us have.”

  “Like your friend?”

  “Like my friend,” he sighed.

  The resignation in his voice made her frown a little, but she asked, “How can we get in contact with them?”

  “Sending a letter would be best. That way, we can determine where it is we need to go instead of travelling blind,” he said, “I'll draft one up tonight and we can drop it off at the post while we're in the city.”

  “Wait, you have a post? As in postal service?”

  He gave her an odd look, “Is that really so surprising?”

  “I guess not, now that I think about it. It's just . . .strange, in a way. Our worlds seem so alike, yet so different all at once.”

  “I would think the commonalities would be a relief?”

  “They are. It's just a bit surreal,” she said, shaking her head, “When were you planning on going?”

  “Sometime within the next few days. We need those feet of yours in decent shape before we go anywhere.”

  Liv frowned, but supposed that was fair, “I can survive until then. Would you be able to teach me about some of the plant life in the meantime?”

  If exercising her base abilities was what it took to advance her order, she wanted to make the most of whatever downtime she had.

  Kaedric gave a nod of his chin, “I was planning on going out in the morning, anyway. We can go over what I’ve foraged when I return.”

  “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can help with?”

  “Not while you’re on the mend. I’d enjoy the freetime while you can, if I were you. If you’re serious about being taught, we’re going to go about this all properly.”

  “Properly. Right. Which means?”

  “You’re going to grow accustomed to long hours spent in the woods while we’re waiting to hear back from the institute.”

  “Makes sense,” she sighed, then inwardly cursed, “Wait, does that mean I’m going to have to learn how to ride too?”

  “It’s a necessary skill, especially out here.”

  She opened her mouth, but decided not to argue the point, “Fine. Just remember, I can’t come back if something goes wrong.”

  “I don’t plan on tossing you on the back of some greenbroke colt,” he drawled.

  “That would be more comforting if I actually knew what you were talking about.”

  “You’ll be learning on something older. Experienced. Something that will tolerate all you’re flopping about while you learn,” he clarified.

  “Hey, I do not flop. Some of us just weren’t born on the back of a horse,” she said.

  He snorted, “You don’t have to be born in the saddle to be a competent rider. You need a good teacher and a sane mount. The rest writes itself.”

  “If you say so,” she muttered.

  It wasn’t that she wasn’t open to learning, it was just . . . well, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t find the idea a little intimidating. Her bike didn’t have an opinion. Or teeth.