Mana Mirror: Chapter Fifteen (Patreon)

I headed through the village in the general area that Alice had indicated the night before. Just as she’d said, it wasn’t hard to find the apothecary/doctor’s office combination.

It was one of the larger buildings in the village, which meant it was slightly larger than my dad’s bakery. Presumably the extra space was the doctor’s office part in the back, because it looked just like an apothecary shop. Dried herbs hung all over the place, and there were rows of bottles filled with pills, powders, and elixirs.

Kene, or at least the person who I assumed to be Kene, was standing behind a glass case in the back, crushing something up with a mortar and pestle. The case had piles of books, but my attention was drawn to a paper taped on the front of the case that read: ‘Kene. They/Them, He/Him. Use something else and I’ll lace all your medicine with laxatives for a year and a day’.

I let out a light chuckle, and Kene turned around. I paused for a moment as I took them in.

Their hair was a dark brown that bordered on black, which matched their eyes. They looked a few years older than me, though not by much, and their sleeveless shirt left their arms bare.

Their arms were well sculpted, with swirling tattoos and inked in runes, and their fingers were stained black, as if they’d been dipped in ink. Their fingers were also oddly sharp – the nails were sharp, but the fingers were too.

They also wore a large witch’s hat – the kind that had largely fallen out of fashion, except with traditionalists, and a pair of thigh high laced up combat boots. He put a hand on his hip and looked me up and down.

“You’re new in town,” they said. “What do you want?”

Their voice had a rough quality that sent a pleasant shiver down my spine. I swallowed and stuck my hands in my pocket.

“I’m here to catch the Acidbubble-Toad, and I have a theory. I think it liquifies stuff with its acid, and then eats it.”

“Work that out all on your own?” they asked, a smirk playing across their lips.

“Well… Uh.” I said, “I probably should have researched the toad a bit before coming here. But I put it together by the fact that there wasn’t really anything left over after the toad attacked.”

“Attacked is a harsh word, but yes,” he said.

“So I was thinking that if I used some acid to dissolve food,” I started.

“You could use it as a lure to bait out the toad,” Kene finished. “It’s not a bad idea, I’ll give you that much.”

The corners of my lips tugged up a little bit at that, despite my attempt to squash it.

“Alright, I’ll help,” Kene said. “But after you catch the toad, I want you to bring it here first. I want a mucus sample. It’s only a first gate creature, but that’s still useful, and it’ll offset the cost of the acid I’m spending.”

“You won’t hurt it, right?” I asked.

They let out a ‘tch’ sound of annoyance and put both hands on their hips.

“Of course not. What kind of a person do you take me for?”

They turned around and breezed into the back, the loose jacket they’d tied around their waist swishing as they did. A moment later, they re-emerged holding a brown bottle. It almost looked like a liquor bottle, but the markings on the outside made it obvious that it was a dangerous chemical.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said.

“Let’s?” I asked.

“It’s my lunch hour anyways,” they responded, shrugging, “and I don’t know you. I don’t want to just hand some stranger a bottle of acid, no matter how well dressed he is.”

I glanced down at my clothes self-consciously, which they must have noticed.

“You look good, don’t worry. But that doesn’t mean I trust you.”

“That’s… reasonable,” I said as I led them outside. “Hey, you’re an alchemist!”

“How astute,” they responded dryly.

“I wasn’t done talking,” I said grumpily. “What I was going to say was, what first gate plant do you think I should take?”

“Depends on what you need it for,” he said. “The best plant for alchemy is pretty different from the best one to use a mana harvest spell on.”

I frowned. I guess that made sense, but surely there was a single plant that stood out?

“My mentor, Meadow wanted me to make it as a place to harvest life mana,” I said after a moment of recollection.

“Mmm,” they said. “Pretty common step for plant mages. You’ve got life magic?”

“And death,” I said. “First gate for each of them.”

“And death?” they repeated. “Interesting. Unusual. From your legacy?”

“Yeah,” I said. “But since I’d be using it for harvesting mana, do you have any advice?”

“I can think of a few useful plants there. If you want the most long-term potential, I’d advise picking a green star sapling. The strongest in the short-term is purpletongue thistle. A good general mix of both would be blood carnations.”

“I’m not sure how useful a short-term solution is going to be,” I said with a shrug.

They rolled their eyes.

“Have you never heard the parable of the woman who stored all her food for the winter, and died of starvation before Autumn hit? Purpletongue thistle absolutely gushes first gate life mana. If you get a harvesting spell that lets you tap into that, you’ll be able to advance your life magic to the limits of what your first gate can hold within a month. Plus, they can be turned into powders that advance plant magic of first gate, which means you could get a bit of use out of it once you were done.”

“Oh,” I said lamely. Admittedly, that was a lot more useful than I’d expected. “What about the other two?”

“Blood carnations aren’t one I’d normally recommend. They have to be fed both life and death mana, like a fungus, and they produce both to be harvested. They have the capacity for growth if they’re fed higher gate mana long enough, up to about fourth gate. They produce a fair amount of mana – nothing next to the thistle, but still a fair amount. Their leaves are used in making a tea that has some mild mana stimulating properties, though they only develop that at second gate.”

“Interesting,” I said. I could definitely see uses for that too.

“Green star trees are life only, like the thistle. It has the lowest amount of potential in the short term, that’s for sure, but they have massive growth potential. There’s a legend that in the far, far south, in Kijani, there’s a green star tree that reached ninth gate. I’m not sure if it’s true, but the fact that I’m not able to rule it out should tell you a lot. Once the tree hits third gate, it begins to bear fruit every Harvest-Fount, and they’re pretty useful sources of mana for making elixirs.”

“Thank you,” I said seriously, looking up at them. He smirked and shrugged.

“No problem. Now, if you want more advice, I think I’m going to have to start charging you. But you already showed me you don’t like to do your research, so it’s the least I can do.”

“Hey!” I protested, and they let out a small chuckle.

Before I could get a jab back at them, we arrived at the edge of the woods. I checked my cage, just in case I’d gotten lucky and the toad had wandered in to sleep. I wasn’t – it seemed even I wasn’t thatlucky.

“Find a decent sized stone that I can melt the food on,” Kene said.

“The cage is acid resistant,” I said. “It’s meant to hold the toad.”

“Do you want to bank on it hopping into the cage and staying there long enough for you to rush over and close it?”

I shrugged and started to search through the woods. It didn’t take too long to find something that we could use, and I led them to it before I took out a bun and put it on the stone.

Kene lifted the bottle and uncorked it. A thin white mist drifted from the top of the bottle, but it didn’t seem to bother them too much. They gently poured a small splash onto the bun, which got wet and soggy.

I’d kind of expected it to melt into a puddle, but I was slightly disappointed. It turned a little black in a few places, and fell apart, but it looked more like I’d left slightly rotted food out in the rain than it did acid.

“Not many acids work like that unless they’re backed up by mana,” they said, seeing my look. “And I wasn’t about to bring magical acid out into the woods with you.”

We backed off a few steps and I faintly sketched out the Fungal Lock spell with two fingers.

Holding the sketched spell would slowly burn away my mana, but I was hoping the toad was nearby.

Sure enough, after about five minutes, the toad leapt up onto the rock and let out a delighted ribbit. It slurped the bun into its mouth and started to hop away.

Before it could, I let fly with the Fungal Lock spell. Mushrooms and long bands of mycelium forged themselves out of mana, ensnaring the Toad, who tried to let out a long croak of annoyance. My spell had him wrapped well though, including his mouth, so the sound was rather muted.

I set the cage down and walked over to the Acidbubble-Toad. It was bigger than I’d expected, about the size of a cat or small dog, with lumpy brown skin and big reddish orange eyes.

I picked it up, and it let out a fierce battle cry as bubbles began to explode from its skin. My mana drained sharply, and in shock, I lost control of the spell. More bubbles exploded from the toad as it hopped from my grasp and started to hop away.

I flung my arm in front of my face, letting my suit take the brunt of the incoming acid bubbles, but several struck my exposed hand. I let out a gasp of pain and took in a shuddering breath before I started to chase after the toad.

For something so lumpy, it was fast. I wouldn’t be able to catch it – it was slowly but surely pulling ahead, and it already had a lead.

So I sketched the fungal lock spell with my uninjured hand and sent the pulse of mana at the toad. It moved faster than either of us, and the toad was abruptly bound in mushrooms again.

It tried to release another explosion of bubbles, but the drain on my mana didn’t catch me off guard this time, and my spell held firm. I picked up the toad, who tried to free itself once more as I walked him back to the cage. I put the toad inside and latched it shut with a satisfying clunk.

I took a deep breath and assessed myself. Now that my adrenaline was wearing off, my hand hurt quite a bit. My mana was also nearly empty, though I still had a bit in each of my gates.

“Idiot,” Kene said as they stepped over to me. “Give me your hand.”

“I caught it, didn’t I?” I asked as I held up my hand, “and the suit blocked most of the damage. It isn’t like I was just charging in without protection.”

“It’s the damage you don’t block that kills you,” they said. They took my hand in their left, and placed their right hand on top. It hurt, irritating the acid burn.

A second later, green light began to leak from their palm and into mine, and the pain soothed away, replaced with a warm, oddly tingly feeling. I let out a gasp as it happened and they sighed.

“Listen, you better appreciate this. Burns are hard to treat in general, and acid burns linger in the skin, unlike fire burns. You’re really lucky I was here to treat you on site. Got it?

“Thank you,” I said. “How much do I owe you? I can’t imagine this is weak magic.”

I was pretty decent at sensing mana, and I suspected the spell they were using was second gate.

They bit their lip and then sighed. I noted their teeth were slightly sharper than I’d expect, just like their fingers and hands were.

“Don’t worry about it. It was a… fun way to spend lunch. More interesting than usual, at the very least.”

“Thank you,” I said. They finished cleansing the acid, then a different shade of green light emitted from their hands. It tingled even more, and didn’t feel quite as pleasant. It didn’t hurt, rather, it just felt like my hand had fallen asleep.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s get the toad back to the lab so I can take a mucus sample.”

They let go of my hand and I glanced down at it. The burns were still there, but they didn’t hurt anymore, and they were slowly starting to heal.

“Regeneration magic?” I asked, impressed, as I picked up the cage with my hand and started to head back.

“Yeah,” they said. “It’s a little more spiritual and mana intensive than a lot of healing spells, but I find it useful. If you want me to remove the scar, that’ll cost you, though. That takes a much more specialized cream, and it’s not cheap to make.”

“Isn’t there a spell to do that?” I asked.

“Sure, but I don’t know it, and surgical magic has a much higher chance to be messed up. I’m an alchemist, and I’d consider myself more of a healer and hedge witch than a proper doctor, despite what the locals say.”

“I see. I think it’s really impressive either way. Regardless of if you do it with a cream or a spell, you’re still doing it.”

“Thanks,” they said, a small smile – not a smirk, a real smile – flashing across their face for a second.

They unlocked the door to their apothecary and took the toad from me.

“Feel free to look around. I’ll be back in a moment.”