Wraithwood Botanist

I expected the rewards I earned from the Trial of Worth rankings to be filled with mythological weapons and strange elixirs, each perfectly suited to bring one closer to godhood.

Or something.

Instead, they seemed to match exactly what I wanted to the point the three options I had for platinum and gold ended up the final picks. It was the true nature of a reward. The options read:

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Powerful Pocket Ward (Platinum): When the most practical treasure you have only protects one, get two. And since you have something more permanent, why not get a small one to carry around while you're traveling? Knowing you, you'll get yourself into a suicidal situation you'll need a powerful barrier.

Cloak of the Predator (Platinum): Reward your cat's hard work by getting an Active Camouflage cloak. That way, the fancy Active Camouflage he worked so hard for wouldn't be worthless when his loud, highly visible, smelly human is near him.

Arrays for Days (Platinum): Like the Big Bag 'o Tools, Arrays for Days is a large collection of powerful arrays for every occasion, from water production and heating to ventilation and purification. There are hundreds of pre-keyed arrays for functional use cases, with enough functionality to service a small village or at least the public spaces.

Kit Estate (Gold): This kit contains everything you never thought you prayed you'd never have to touch, from caulking and tiles to metal support pillars and concrete. Everything you need to build homes and bathhouses is in this large delivery and more, providing magical alternatives to electric accessories. Just be prepared to make multiple trips, as it will take up about ten pallets worth of space.

Portable Furniture (Gold): Despite the boring name, Portable Furniture comes with sixty-two benches, tables, couches, beds, and other items that—like your pop-out stove and beds—magically inflate into comfortable furniture variations. They come upholstered, making them fashionable to your requested desires. It is enough for eight homes and your communal spaces.

Bulk Alchemy Staples (Gold): Over a thousand pounds of Alchemy staples, primarily consisting of ethanol, creams, sugars, and oils that are requirements for alchemic creations but are hard to make in nature. It also contains many acids, alkalines, binding agents, and more.

Trade Route Spices (Bronze): One hundred pounds of salt, twenty pounds of sugar, ten gallons of cooking oil, ten pounds of butter, two hundred pounds of flour, ten pounds of coffee beans, and a full supply of other spices.

-

Those were the items that I picked, with the bronze being the only one I spent a free request on. I wanted more, but I still had epic-grade alchemy equipment, an illusionary ward, and teleportation circles in the Bramble to collect when I was ready. After Misty Row, I was relatively prepared. I just needed to learn more about soul pacts with plants and soulmancy counters. It was approaching.

For now, though, I was satisfied with this. There was only one problem. The moment I submitted it, I got a nasty notification. It read:

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Warning: Aiden Roe's company, Heath and Roe Enterprises, is unlikely to be able to fulfill your requests. There is a high probability that the Melhan family needs to be involved. Do you agree to this provision?

-

"Hey Lithco," I said after some reflection. "If I give you an information request, can you tell me how the Melhans are approaching me this year?"

Lithco and a chair blinked into existence before me. "Not as much as you would like." He sat down. "The Melhans have privacy protection for their family's operations like you do. However, I will be able to tell you about the family's stance, as it's been made to the public."

"Give it to me."

"Done." Lithco leaned back. "Interestingly enough, the head of the family, Reasan Melhan, knows you'd be in this predicament, and he's hoping to exploit it to rebuild ties with you. It's important to remember that Reasan never gave his son an order to be a psychotic maniac. Doesn't make him a good person—he's not. But he wouldn't have done anything so irresponsible."

I frowned. "And you think he's being honest?"

"I can ask him to release an analysis."

"Wait, what?"

"If someone makes a request of interest, the Oracle sends the person with a privacy request an invitation."

"I see…" I paused. "Do it."

He did, and not a minute later, Lithco chuckled. "Well, that's a testament of its own."

"What?"

He looked at me. "He already agreed. And I can confirm that he's genuine about rebuilding ties and he has not made any plans to harm you."

"So wait. They're not sending a hit squad?"

"They're is the wrong word. He's not sending a hit squad this year. Your embargo has affected everyone in the family, and many are furious that you humiliated their name and killed their heir. So they might."

"I see…"

"Still, that does mean that the Melhan family won't show up and demand a public challenge or force you to make deals with the Dante for protection. There's bound to be trouble—just not unreasonable trouble."

I nodded absentmindedly and said, "Indicate that I'm willing to negotiate if it doesn't cost anything. There's no sense in not talking. Also… can you set up a meeting with Elana? She didn't deserve to be in the dark so long."

Lithco scoffed. "What? Am I your servant?"

"Well… in a matter of semantics."

"I refuse."

"Come on! You're the physical embodiment of The Guide."

Lithco rolled his eyes and wiggled his fingers and froze, chuckling insanely.

"What?"

"Seems you're quite popular. Elana wants to meet tomorrow morning."

"What? It's been three seconds."

"It seems she's been waiting." Lithco's lips curved into a sinister grin. "Good luck."

He disappeared before I could react, leaving me in a state of terrorized limbo. Yet… I was excited. It had been over a year since Elana and I last talked, and I… kinda missed her. So, I pushed my thoughts aside and carried on with my day, finishing strong as I prepared to meet my teacher.

-

It was a brisk fall morning when I found myself frozen stiff, crumpling under the glare of my abnormally beautiful teacher. Elana—the Eternal Goddess—famous for dealing in eternal youth and age reversal at the level of ninth-evolution gods.

She was furious.

Not because I hadn't seen her.

But for a much more simple and almost petty reason.

"While I am willing to forgive your loose adherence to your image when you're in isolation, I will not permit my disciple to dress like a sloven around others, least of all her master!"

"Yes, ma'am…" I said, averting my gaze.

"And why did you not reach out to me? That Drokai's understanding of alchemy is laudable for a forest dweller, but it lacks in depth. I cannot believe that you would temper your body without at least consulting me. What if you destroyed your body?"

I grimaced and kept silent.

"Well?" she hummed sharply. "I understand you lack the proper respect for gods, but you could at least give me the mortal courtesy of petty excuses."

"Look," I said after a sharp breath. "I was pushed around by gods and families and systems all last year. And I just wanted to live my life. Go on hikes and study plants and do some alchemy. Otherwise…" I paused. "Otherwise, I probably would've gone to live with Felio. Lived in a luxurious home. Studied alchemy. The whole nine. I enjoy my life, but if this year was like last year, I would've left."

Elana unfolded her arms and pulled out a chair from a spatial dimension and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. There was a surprising amount of empathy in her eyes.

"Plus…" I continued. "I was pretty pissed when you sent me off to Misty Row, and when I got back… I probably would've blown up on you."

Her lips pursed into a poker face.

"What happened there? I wasn't pleased when you suddenly cut the feed."

I laughed. "I didn't cut the feed. Half the Brute between the Delta and the visible mist is actually the mist. It sucks you in ten to fifteen miles before you even know you're in the mist."

Her eyes flickered with interest. "What's in the mist?"

"Hell," I said and looked away. "Absolute hell. Look… I'm not going to talk about it, kay? But I promise you this: If you ever send me back there for tribute, I will cut all ties with you."

Elana studied my face, then said. "Understood. Now will you tell me what those are?"

She glanced at the preservation chamber I was cradling against my thighs.

"Cailain," I said. "It's a regenerative temper. I'm going to use most of it, but I will be giving you some. The other plants I found in the mist were useless."

Elana's composure broke, and she stood, walking to me and asking politely for the chamber with a gesture. I handed it to her, and she stared into it with glassy, frozen eyes.

"Do not use these," she whispered.

"What? Why not? They're supposed to heal my body."

"If you're an uncivilized fairy," she said. "If you're a god, you can turn this into a temper that regenerates limbs. But you won't be able to do it with what you have. I will be sending you ingredients this year, next year if I cannot expedite them quickly enough. Do not take this opportunity for granted. It costs a great deal to send ingredients between the realm of gods and the mortal plane, and I will not do it again."

I paused, mouth agape, lost in the idea that Elana was sending me ingredients from the land of the gods.

"I can't…" I paused and rescinded my words. "What do you want for this?"

"For you to survive," she said. "Such is the goal and aim of a true master."

I was silent, stunned—astonished—seeking answers for questions on her motives. But I just nodded.

"That's enough for today," she said. "Any more, and you will be tempted to improve yourself and I forbid you from using any more tempers or elixirs. Am I understood?"

I nodded.

"Good." She stood again and looked down upon me. "You've done well. Next year, I will be light upon your tribute, but expect a serious test when I feel you're strong enough. That's all."

Elana disappeared, leaving me staring at the petals in disbelief. It seemed that the trauma of Misty Row was productive, after all.

—

I spent my last few days practicing my battle illusions with Reta and Kyro, then going home to cook and eat and enjoy life with my friends. This could be the last week of my life, so I would make it count.

Before I knew it, the fall time had accelerated, and it was time to make it back toward the Harvest.

This time, I felt like a gangster.

There were hundreds of migrating beasts and none of them attacked us. They must've smelled torok murder on Kline and me because even the largest of beasts kept their distance, watching us from a distance. It felt damn good.

Kline was clingier after Misty Row, so to Sina's huffing displeasure, he had me ride him like a war panther. He was smug about it, and Sina was like a jealous child, walking up to me on our breaks and lying down against me quite forcefully, looking around to make sure there weren't any enemies.

It was seriously cute.

I showered her with affection, and Kline got butt hurt, so he transformed to his smaller size to jump in my lap and let me pet him.

I get that they were warring, but I was the victor.

Kael was also a bit jealous. He was the alpha male, and Sina was the alpha female. At some point, it was expected that they would have children, and it was surprising that they hadn't already.

My guess was that they were pushing toward the third evolution first, as a pregnancy would permanently slow them down. Now that they were, Kael was a bit more aggressive and Sina was wholly stuck to me like glue.

I was flattered—

—but I kinda wanted them to have kids.

Just imagining a baby lurvine was far much to handle. The cuteness would make me explode.

It was surreal to be thinking about something so insignificant in the middle of the Harvest migration, but there we were, the alphas of the forest, with time to spare.

Things didn't get serious until we reached the Bramble and found a pack of third-evolution chimeric lions near the Mouth of the Bramble, where they had spent the year eating the dead toroks to the bone.

The scene was biblical: a stare-off between two strong packs in a giant graveyard, staring each other down through gaps in the late torok's yellowing rib cages.

It was time to test our strength before the Harvest began.