We spent the five to seven weeks in the valley, though it was hard to say exactly how much time had passed. Without keeping tra a dar, the days blurred together, flowing into one another until they became an indistinct stretch of time. Bottom li had been a while. The rain started ing more often, and instead of brief showers sting an hour or two, it would pour for two or three days straight. At first, we hunkered down indoors during the “wet” days, but after we fihe sed jet ski, we figured we might as well make the most of it. We were getting drenched from the ke anyway, so a little rain didn’t make much of a difference.

  Rue, of course, expressed his dissatisfa with his jet ski taking three full days to charge. He gave me those big, pleading eyes and twitg ears until I caved and charged it for him. It took 8,500 mana to fill it up, and I silently thahe regeion in Lumis. Four hours ter, and I was full again, after I drained my mana into his jet ski.

  On the “dry” days, we headed down to the ge, tinuing to push our way through. I was still the group’s elevator, and they made sure to tease me about it every ce they got. But the fights were getting easier with each passing day, a mix of growing familiarity and tinuous training. The only thing that really surprised me—twice, in fact—were the damn birds. Oime, a bird swooped down and scratched my head, leaving deep gouges. The sed time, one of them bit my shoulder. After that, I figured out how to adjust my mana sense from a full sphere to a dome. It wasn’t as wide—maybe seven ht meters—but it stopped us from getting ambushed from above. It beat trying to maintain a twenty-meter sphere that took way too much effort.

  From then on, whenever a bird entered my range, I had a simple, effective method: cast Exude Mana on it, knock it out of the sky, and break its neck with my foot. Quid effit.

  Al ered me oernoon, his eyes practically glowing with excitement. “I need an alchemist’s b.”

  “Alright,” I said. “Let’s talk about what you need.”

  After what felt like ay of listening to his detailed expnation, filled with terms that made my head spin, I finally had enough of a pn. I stood in the ter of the house, shaking my head slightly as I addressed the core. “I need a rge room,” I said, imagining the space Al had described—big enough for all his gssware, burners, and whatever strange gadgets he’d collected. The house responded instantly, the walls shifting and expanding, creating a new pocket dimension perfectly suited to Al’s needs. I’ve been in enough bs in my time to know the basics, but this alchemical stuff? I just nodded along whenever he started spouting theories about mana-infused pnts and transmutations.

  Ohe room materialized, we spent a few hours setting up the work surfaces, ets, and equipment. Al had already anized his tools with a precision that made me wonder if he’d been dreaming about this b for weeks. Every bottle, fsk, and strange traption had its pce. I just followed along, moving things where he wahem without asking too many questions. I’d learned by now that asking would only lead to another lecture, and I wasn’t in the mood for more alchemy talk.

  As we finished up, I stepped outside the b and gnced around to make sure no one was nearby. Quietly, I leaoward the wall and whispered to the house. “Seal this room pletely,” I said, my voice low. “Air tight.”

  The house responded immediately, exeg the request without hesitation. Sure, they’d repeatedly assured me that no matter what fumes Al might produ there, the house would be ued. But I wasn’t taking any ces. I didn’t care if they thought I was being an idiot—I had no iion of getting high from halluogenic mushrooms, heroin, or whatever else Al experimented with.

  “Better safe than sorry,” I muttered, giving the b o ghey could call me paranoid all they wanted, but I wasn’t about to risk getting knocked out by whatever co Al was brewing up in there.

  The days grew colder and colder, and even with my increased stitution, I needed a long-sleeved shirt and a jacket. The water in the ke also gressively colder until we had to give up using the jet ski. Al relutly accepted that we would have to wait until spring to visit the s. Visiting a wet s clearly wasn’t a good idea with the plummeting temperatures.

  To pensate, he started dug all sorts of experiments with pnts he collected in the ge, the mushroom valley, our valley, and various seeds he bought oh and I had in Ste, attempting to graft something iing. I was nid gave him one bag of coffee seeds. I had seven crates—still, coffee.

  Al started reading some of the alchemy books Lis had given me, and his usual iy shifted into something more... relentless. He devoured the knowledge, and it wasn’t long before he came to me with a new request. “I require a much rger greenhouse,” he said, his toeady, trolled, but with that glint in his eye that told me he’d been pnning this for days. “At least three times the size of the current one. And there must be ses with varying mana levels, as well as a dark arboretum.”

  I raised an eyebrow, trying to hide my fusion. “A dark... arboretum?”

  “Yes,” he nodded, his expression calm, hands csped behind his back. “It is essential. There are certain species I have entered that thrive in darkness, yet require specifia trations to flourish. Standard daylight ditions will simply not suffice.”

  I could already feel the headache f. “Right,” I said slowly, “and why do you need different mana levels?”

  That was the spark he needed. Al shifted slightly, standing taller, as if about to deliver a lecture. “It is not merely about the pnt abs mana, you see. The iioween mana and flora is a delicate process. Certain pnts require specifia gradients to unlock their full potential. This process, much like a transmutation, ehe pnt to yield ingredients of far greater potency. For instance, a nightshade variety—if exposed t levels of mana—could produce both highly toxid medial pounds simultaneously.”

  I stared at him, struggling to keep up. Mana gradients, transmutation, toxid medial pounds all in the same pnt? My brain tried to process his words, but it was like listening to someone expin quantum physi a nguage I didn’t speak. I gave a slow nod, trying to look like I was following.

  “And as for the arboretum,” he tinued, pag gracefully as if the topic required a certain reverence, “without direct sunlight, certain magical pounds within these pnts will activate only under specifia flows. This creates airely new subset of alchemical ingredients, many of which ot be replicated by mere sunlight exposure.”

  At this point, I was nodding just to stay awake. His voice, though elegant, was being a soothing drone in my ears, and I found myself thinking about how many times I’d have to adjust the greenhouse before it would actually fun the way he wanted. I blinked, fighting off the creeping wave of drowsiness. Then something in his expnation snagged my attention.

  “Poisons are crucial,” he said, pausing for effect. “Many of the most beneficial potions are derived from poisonous substances. In alchemy, two ives , when carefully banced, yield a positive result.”

  Poisons? That was something I could grasp. “Like how venom’s used to treat diseases oh?” I asked, suddenly more alert.

  Al turned, a faint smile pying on his lips. “Precisely. The application of poison in trolled amounts allows for the creation of potent cures. It is all about bance.”

  Finally, something familiar. My mind drifted to the rge stock of poisons from the burrowers and scorpy-wolves ba Tuone. “I’ve got two types of poisons. Want them?”

  Al smiled, straightening up even more. “That would be most useful for my experiments. With those resources, I could aplish far more.”

  I handed over the eash of poisons without a sed thought. For the hree days, Al repeatedly thanked me, his gratitude expressed in calm, measured tones each time we crossed paths. Every “thank you” seemed more deliberate tha, as though he truly couldn’t overstate his appreciation. As for the greenhouse and b, I kept my distance. With all the talk of poisons and dark arboretums, I wasly eager to be around whatever experiments he had brewing in there.

  I was still trying to learn how to fly, but with little success. While h awkwardly two meters off the ground, I attempted to find a way to propel my body forward. I trated, willing myself to glide through the air, but nothing happened. Frustrated, I switched tactics. Maybe if I mimicked swimming motions, I’d get somewhere.

  With that thought, I started doing breaststrokes mid-air, pushing my arms forward in what I thought was a reasoempt at flight. Still, nothing. The only thing I succeeded in was looking ridiculous.

  Out of the er of my eye, I saw Mahya watg. Her expression shifted from curiosity to sheer amusement, and before I k, she was on the ground, clutg her stomach, ughing untrolbly. She rolled side to side on the grass, kig her legs in the air, gasping for breath between fits of ughter.

  I paused mid-stroke, arms still outstretched, and gave her a ft look. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

  But clearly, Mahya did. She couldn’t even respond, just tio ugh so hard that tears streamed down her face.

  With friends like this, who needs enemies?

  The breakthrough caught me pletely off guard. It was so absurdly simple that for twht days, I found myself facepalming and shaking my head in disbelief. Every time I thought about it, I felt that familiar wave of bewilderment wash over me. How had I missed something so obvious? I’d catch myself muttering, “Seriously?” before facepalming again, as if each time would somehow make it all make sense.

  I was in the air again, trying for what felt like the huh time to vihe wind to move me forward. Of course, she didn’t cooperate, her joy clear in the soft whispers of the breeze around me. Great, I thought, she’s having fun at my expense. While floating there, something on the shore across the ke caught my eye. A shimmering, glimmering spot that begged for iigation. I focused on it, wanting to reach it.

  Without warning, my body shot forward, jerking ahead like a slingshot released. Panic surged as the ground below rushed toward me at an arming speed.

  No, no, no, I don’t want to hit the ground!

  I stopped—abruptly, like hitting an invisible wall. My body lurched, jerking so hard it felt like my insides had momentarily kept going. I hovered awkwardly, midair, my heart still rag, struggling to catch up with what just happened. pletely dumbfounded, I hung there, suspended in midair.

  What just happened?

  Still in the air, I repyed everything in my mind, trying to figure out how I’d mao fly—if that’s what you could even call it. Alright, what did I do? Tried to vihe wind to push me... she ughed. I got annoyed, and then—boom, I flew.

  Hmm. What was I thinking at the moment?

  I wao reach that shimmering spot on the beach.

  The sed I thought it, my body hurtled toward the ground again, like gravity had yanked me down by the colr. I smmed into the earth, my whole body jolting on impact, leaving me dazed food minute.

  When I finally sat up, blinking away the stars in my vision, I noticed something odd. The ground around me was coated in a thin yer of frost, glittering as the sunlight hit it.

  It ’t be that simple. It just ’t!

  I rose into the air again, my eyes fixed on the house in the distance. Home, I thought, I want to go home. The moment that thought entered my mind, my body shot forward, rocketing toward the house like I had no trol over it. This time, I didn’t have the ce to reao quick, “I don’t want to hit the house” came to mind. The realization hit me too te—just as I smmed into it at full speed.

  At the st possible sed, instinct took over, and I jerked my head sideways, trying to avoid a direct collision. Instead of smag the top of my head, I crashed into the wall with the side of my head and shoulder, the impact sending shockwaves through my body. The hing I knew, I was rolling untrolbly dowed roof, the world spinning around me.

  I hit the ground hard, the grass doing little to cushion the fall. I y there, pletely dazed and disoriented, staring up at the sky as everything slowly stopped spinning. My shoulder throbbed, and I could feel the side of my face beginning to swell. Well, that could’ve gone worse, I thought, blinking away the stars still dang in my vision.

  Mahya’s face appeared above me, her eyes wide with . She said something, but it didn’t register.

  “Whah?” I mao mumble, blinking up at Mahya through the haze clouding my mind.

  She repeated her question, her eyes narrowing with , but my brain was still struggling to catch up. “What?” I said again, the words ing out slowly as I tried to focus.

  Mahya sighed, shaking her head, then took out a small vial. Without a word, she ha to me, and I drank it in one go. Instantly, my body jolted to life. My heart rate spiked, muscles tensed as if gearing up for a fight, and srickled on my skin, but at least my head cleared.

  “What happened?” she asked, her voice sharp and more than a little annoyed.

  “I crashed into the house,” I admitted with a wihe memory of impact fshing in my head.

  She crossed her arms, her eyebrows raised. “I saw that. Why did you crash into it, and how did you even mao do it?”

  “I, uh… figured out how to fly,” I said, gng away awkwardly. “But I haven’t quite mastered all the kinks yet.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she looked me over. “You’ve got a cussion. Your eyes look funny. You’d better heal yourself before you end up worse.”

  I cast Healing Touyself, feeling the familiar warmth spread through me. My head cleared pletely, and I let out a relieved breath as I felt a click—my shoulder snapping bato pce with a soft thud of realig.

  Ouch!

  “Did I imagi, or did you give me one of Al’s drug potions?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at her.

  Mahya ughed, shaking her head. “No. I gave you a potion, but not a drug potion.”

  “I thought those were the only ones he had right now,” I said, suspicious.

  “Maybe,” she shrugged, “but this wasn’t from him. Remember, Lis gave us health potions before he left?”

  Right.

  I nodded, feeling sheepish for not remembering sooner.

  “So,” she pressed, her tone shifting back to serious, “what exactly happened?”

  I rubbed my head, still wing from the crash. “I figured out how to move myself... kind of. But I still o learn how to do it right, without bumping into things.”

  “How?”

  “Well,” I began, thinking back to all my failed attempts. “Before this, I kept trying to will myself to move, or I’d have this vague iion to go somewhere, but it wasn’t focused. I wasn’t actually thinking about where I wao go. I was just fixated on the idea of moving—just, you know, movement in general.”

  I paused, remembering how many times I’d hovered aimlessly, willing myself forward without an actual destination in mind. “The problem was that I was usiy i. I had the thought, but there was no substance behind it, no real goal. But magic doesn’t respond to that. It needs something crete. Lis always said, ‘Magic follows i,’ but I didn’t fully uand what that meant. I didn’t give it enough thought. I didn’t sider the implications.”

  Mahya listened carefully, her head tilting slightly as I expined.

  “It’s not enough to just have i,” I tinued, feeling the pieces finally clito pce. “You need real i. It’s the differeween saying ‘I want to move’ and saying ‘I want to get to that specific spot.’ The first is just... empty, direless. The sed has actual i, real substance behind it. It’s that desire to reach a specific pce that gives the magic direakes it follow through. Without that, it’s like trying to steer a ship with ination. You’ll drift, but you won’t get anywhere.”

  “So it’s about giving the magic a purpose?” Mahya asked, still looking slightly bewildered.

  “Exactly,” I said, nodding. “Empty i is just a wish. Real i is what makes it happen. You have to want to go somewhere, not just want to move. That’s the differehat gives it power.”

  “Huh!” Mahya said, blinking at me, dumbfounded.

  “My thought exactly.”

  We tio sit on the grass, both lost in thought. I stared off into the distaill trying to process what I had just realized. It was so absurdly simple, shtforward, that my mind refused to accept it. How could it be that easy? I facepalmed, shaking my head in sheer disbelief. This ’t be right, I thought, still grappling with the idea. I couldn’t my head around it—how could something this obvious have escaped me for so long? I sighed, feeling that wave of bewilderment wash over me again. I just couldn’t bring myself to accept that it was really that simple.