Day 33, 4:20 PM

  I spent a full day and a half getting used to the sensory storm before Edna finally headed home to prepare the things we will need for our marathon of lessons. My job, as her apprentice, and definitely not a hunter, we have strongly, very explicitly stipulated that, is to hunt a month’s worth of food. She will freeze some, and we prepare the rest through cooking lessons, since BSD didn’t specify that I needed to take magic lessons from my master. Edna doubts I can cheat like that, I’m certain I can, but we’ll see.

  As for food, centipedes are Edna’s favorite, while I personally prefer the land lobsters. The centipedes are fine too, but whatever makes them turn rubbery seems like some sort of defensive mechanism, which probably translates to poison. And I’m not a big fan of poisoning myself, despite Initial Poison Tolerance to soften the blow.

  Since it’s too late in the afternoon, and the night is about to start, I decide to hunt tomorrow. The official, and perfectly valid reason is that the centipedes would turn to waste during the night, but there’s also a small portion of curiosity there as well. I wish to explore mana sensing, drawing, and manipulation with my altered mind.

  The first thing I notice is that the green mist of mana is no longer that, or to be more precise it simultaneously is and it isn’t, the sensation is nearly impossible to put into words. What surrounds me isn’t green mist, but life in gaseous form.

  It smells of blood, flowers, cut grass, dung, I even catch her scent, and my mind reels. The gaseous life holds infinite potential. It’s nothing, mere steam coming off from the primordial soup, and yet, it can become anything if the one using it possesses sufficient skill.

  I salivate at the most perfect solsus ribs caressing my tongue, but my throat clenches at the promises of bitter poisons. Synesthesia is and will remain a problem until mana sense hits the advanced tier. Edna warned me about that, but like many of her warnings, it came after the fact, and more as an explanation on why I’m smelling colors than a warning.

  There is a positive to it, though. If I learn to split and properly segregate my senses, I should advance mana sense all on my own.

  I spend the night licking colors with my ears with a single interruption. Dinner ambushed me, and after killing it, I cut choice pieces of the giant jungle lobster.

  The rest of the return trip takes three days, with several hours wasted on the last day hunting two centipedes and another lobster.

  Edna’s home comes into view, rain soaking her garden. A portion of the fence is gone, nothing but charred stumps left. The smell is faint, washed out by the night’s deluge, but my keen nose catches it. A mix of roasted pork and beef, but there’s neither beef nor pork in this world, meaning I’m smelling humans.

  I duck, taking cover behind the shrubs, and drop the bugs I’ve hunted for provisions. Unburdened, I advance towards the hut. The garden is trampled, the most valuable plants plucked. I find three charred spots where the smell of roast is stronger. I already know what’s happened, but I look inside.

  The tiny house is overturned, but there are no signs of combat. The inquisitors jumped Edna before she got in.

  “Well, shit.” A rare curse escapes my lips.

  Now what? Faced with the loss of my master, I have several options. I could go after the inquisitors, guns blazing, but they might have burned her already. I could walk away, my apprentice mage level is already high enough for me to try casting a primitive spell and becoming a journeyman mage all by myself.

  Losing Edna is regrettable, but ultimately, the loss is one I can recover from. I could take Lucy with me, teach her magic, and we could do the immortality thing together. But I don’t think I can do that to Edna. She was supportive, if somewhat deranged, hadn’t shown an inkling of possible betrayal, and I owe her one. Besides, I’m not the sanest cookie in the jungle.

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  So, that leaves me with the final option. If Edna is dead, I can redo. My heart drums in my chest, and my knees feel weak.

  I’m already starting to think of that curse as a normal option in life. Even after everything Manny has suffered to make me see the truth of it.

  My lungs hurt as I force my breathing to slow. There will be no redos, other than to save lives I can’t save otherwise. And while it pains me to admit it, Edna has earned the right for me to die for her at least once.

  Besides, she knows all the spells. Even if I pick up Lucy, we would have to explore and invent spells from scratch.

  I search for something useful inside the hut and find nothing. Then I dump the useless off-balance ax, and follow the muddy tracks. Fortunately, the inquisitors didn’t seem to care about anyone following them. A huge mistake.

  I follow the tracks until the deluge and the better part of the next day, before reaching a clearing.

  Before me, a massive rock column, several miles wide, rises up from the ground. Wide stairs are chiseled into the cliff, leading to a massive fortress. Dozens of small waterfalls rain down from the fortress into an artificial moat surrounding the rock.

  It doesn’t take a genius to see why they named it Tallrock, and the name is suitable. The rock plateau plus the fortress walls reach around one hundred and fifty feet in height, and I can see why the townsfolk are so assured of their safety.

  I squint towards the gate. The guards manning it aren’t inquisitors. Instead, they appear to be regular folk, wearing chain armor and leaning against the wall. Their bored faces reveal that there are no superiors anywhere in the vicinity.

  Since that’s the case, and there’s nobody to identify me as an apprentice mage, I head up. The guards frown as I pass, trying to remember whether they know me.

  I give them a friendly smile, noting the wax covering their mail to keep it from rusting. “I’m a passing delver from Grayrock, went to the dungeon with Fred, Lucy, and Gila Rivens a couple of weeks ago.”

  I expected a nod or something, but my words seemed to completely wipe their interest in me, and I simply pass the gate without hindrance. The town before me isn’t what I expected. I’m not sure what I expected. Perhaps something akin to medieval Europe, or perhaps an Arborean town with thatched roofs, covering huts similar to the one Edna lived in.

  It’s neither. The town before me is made of solid rock, the very rock it stands on. The houses are of uniform size, square, gray, with slanted roofs made of stone tiles. Everything is drab, old, and gray. Tallrock screams fantasy communism.

  The only thing that I can say is a marvel, are the rain gutters. Rain only falls in the central portion of the street. The exposed part is only two feet wide, but even there, the street is sloped, leading into some sort of sewer I would call primitive, but given the evidence around me, Everrainians take their water seriously. For all I know, the system might be more advanced than anything we had back on Earth.

  I step out of the rain and walk beneath the eaves. It’s around noon, and with no specific clue in mind, I follow Lucy’s instructions and head for her home. After taking the third turn, I understand why she hates and wants to leave, I also understand Gila, who wants to shut herself in her store, surround herself with bright dresses, and never leave her studio.

  The one I don’t understand is Fred. Why the hell would anyone want to make patrolling this maze a career? The only thing I can see it’s good for is fighting dementia. To make things worse, there are no house numbers or street names. I can imagine how many times someone knocked on the wrong door, or worse, just walked inside, if it was unlocked.

  I finally reach the right place, or at least I hope I’m at the right place. The door has a plaque with Riven written on it, just as Lucy said, but there were half a dozen Rivens I passed on my way here, so it doesn’t mean anything yet.

  I knock on wood and wait.

  “Yes?” A woman in her forties opens the door.

  “Good day, Madam,” I beam a winning smile. “I’m Griff, I can see where Lucy got her good looks from.”

  Lucy’s mother blushes and lowers her gaze. She’s either very shy for a woman in her forties, or extremely unused to compliments.

  “You’re the mysterious chivalrous young man Lucy mentioned? Thank you for helping the kids out, we all appreciate it. They snuck out saying they were going to gather herbs in the forest, then went into the dungeon. Ed, Fred’s dad, beat him black and blue for running away and for delving so deep into the dungeon without proper supervision.”

  Lucy’s mother is apparently fascinated by my shoes. They are good shoes, so I ignore her stare, and go on with the program.

  “I only helped them a bit. They, Lucy and her friends, I mean, did most of the work on their own. Is she home? I promised I’d drop by when I come to town.”