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Tala left her family’s shop behind with quick steps, mixed feelings coming back to plague her.

She felt tremendous guilt for having cut off contact with her siblings. There was at least one that I didn’t even know I had.

She also obviously felt righteous anger at her parents for their arrogant dismissal of her potential thoughts, so long ago. They hadn’t even bothered to hear them.

-What would you have done, if they came to you?-

Tala had given it a lot of thought. I can’t know for certain, but I think I would have said “Yes.”

-And that would have made it alright?-

It would have made it better.

Alat didn’t have a response to that.

Tala’s thoughts returned to her siblings. She hadn’t lied to them. She would be back the next day, after her breakfast with Mistress Odera.

For some reason, that thought keyed off her mind on food in a direction she hadn’t contemplated before, and she smacked herself in the face. I’m an idiot.

-No, you’re not. That’s disgusting. No one should ever have that idea.-

But it would work.

-Yeah, at least for the calories. Nutritionally, we’d need to supplement it. It’s still gross, though.-

Oil, specifically vegetable oils, were basically the most calorie dense consumable substance humanity knew of. Well, that and lard.

-You aren’t seriously considering buying a gallon of oil and straight up drinking it…are you?- Alat obviously knew the answer, but she just as obviously didn’t like it and was hoping for a different one.

Tala grimaced, even as she kept walking. It’s worth a test. If it works, that could virtually be the same as a fabled health potion for me.

Alat groused. -You aren’t wrong, but it’s still disgusting…-

It’s not like you’re going to taste it.

-Are you kidding me? I’ll have the memory of the taste forever. Who cares if I don’t actually taste it, directly.-

Could we numb my tongue somehow? So that I could just chug it?

-Not easily? It would take freeform manipulation of your senses, which could go horribly wrong. Not worth it, if you ask me. As to the oil, for balance, at least at the macro-nutrient level, you’re going to need a LOT of meat and whole grain bread.-

That’s fair enough. But we’ll test just the oil, at least at first.

In the end, Alat agreed that it was worth a try, as it might just save their life at some point, if it worked.

Thus, as they headed towards the work-yard, they kept an eye out for… There.

A little all-night grocer was open in one of the more affluent neighborhoods that they were passing through.

Tala was able to buy a gallon of olive oil, two massive loaves of bread, and two roasted chickens for two silver and thirty-two copper.

Tala was utterly floored by how cheap it was, even though she suspected that she was paying a bit more than was standard, to cover the cost of the convenience of the all-night grocer.

She bid the attendant good-night and continued on her way towards the work-yard.

Ready?

-No…-

Here goes! Tala pulled the cork and took a long swig from the bottle of oil before she could stop herself.

She gagged and retched, but power spiraled through her anti-vomit inscriptions, and her stomach settled.

Oh, yeah, I don’t think about those very often.

Alat sent immense displeasure.

A weirdly slick, greasy feeling coated the inside of her mouth and throat. Oddly, Tala suddenly had the sensation that she could feel with her teeth, and they were disgusted at what was coating them.

On a whim, Tala cracked the seed in her mouth, and felt the power of dissolution blossom between her teeth, breaking the oil down into its constituent parts. She breathed in to at least clear her upper throat, then exhaled the mass of dissolved oil and power out, into a snow-bank, a good portion of which puffed into vapor.

Hah, I knew that would work.

-I thought we agreed not to use those for oral hygiene.-

Did you want that to linger?

-…fine.-

So? I can feel it being processed by the flows of power, but I think you have a finer view of the result.

Alat was hesitant for a long time. -It will work in a pinch.-

Tala didn’t gloat, in fact she felt a bit of disgust. I sort of wish it hadn’t, but I am glad to know, in a pinch.

Alat was silent for a while.

Tala was almost to the work yard that held her cargo-wagon when Alat broke her silence.

-Tala?-

Yes?

-If that foul liquid were combined, somehow, with scripts to speed absorption into the body, distribution of the calories where they were needed, and a targeted regeneration…-

Tala stopped dead in the quiet city streets. Alat, that’s a regeneration potion.

-I know, right?- Alat was ecstatic. -It still probably wouldn’t work. Who’s going to drink two cups of olive oil? And, even if they did that might not even be sufficient to heal a given injury.-

But it is an interesting idea. How would the spell-forms be incorporated into the liquid?

-The ending seeds.-

We aren’t putting ending-seeds in a healing potion.

-No, no. The seeds have stored magic that is triggered by things like digestion. The mechanism has to be reproducible.-

It was an interesting thought. Probably not unique but interesting. We should talk to Mistress Odera about it over breakfast.

*      *      *

Tala sat cross legged on her floor within Kit.

Her eyes were closed, her morning routine all but done.

Around her orbited her Archon stars, three encased in tungsten.

She now had eight of the small spell-forms, each as small and weak as she could make them, each in a single drop of blood.

She practiced mirroring various senses to the stars as they orbited.

It was disorienting, having her vision spin around herself, but she was getting greater control of it. So, instead of sweeping around in a circle, she could focus it on one place, the perspective simply moving as if she were doing a box-step.

She had a use for the sweeping perspective, but not as she was now.

Her greatest discovery had come only a day or two before.

She took a slow breath and gilded herself.

She added a second perspective mirroring, allowing it to sweep around her without interference, then she ignored it. It’s like my nose. I can easily see it, but I just don’t.

Alat helped enhance the desired effect, while the alternate interface soaked in the inputs.

Alat was much better at ignoring the negative sides of the sweeping perspective.

-Alright. I’m ready.-

Tala took another deep breath, and selected a bloodstar opposite the one already mirroring her senses for Alat.

Then, with an application of will and a flexing of her soul, Tala mirrored her perspective onto that star as well.

She was immediately overwhelmed, unable to ignore so much information.

Her concentration broke, as did the mirroring.

Tala cursed, flopping back.

-One perspective is already amazing.-

But there are gaps in what we can see.

-True enough. It seemed easier that time.-

It definitely was. I think that being so close to fully Fused helped immensely.

-I agree.-

There was a bit of frustration there. They were so close.

-This will likely be possible once we cross that hurdle.-

That’s probably true.

-Well, it is about time to leave to have breakfast with Mistress Odera. Then, we can see the family. That seemed to help with our inner turmoil.-

True enough.

Tala sat up, looking to Terry in the corner. “You want to come with me?”

He lifted his head, glancing towards the door. With a slight shudder and shake of his whole body, he trilled a decidedly negating series of notes.

“Suit yourself. I’ll check on you every once in a while, to see if you want out.”

He squawked once and laid his head down.

She chuckled, tossing him a huge hunk of jerky, which disappeared halfway to him.

All right. Let’s see what Mistress Odera thinks of our idea.

*      *      *

Tala sat patiently eating, while Mistress Odera regarded her with increasing skepticism.

“That’s a fairly ludicrous idea.”

Tala shrugged. “But it might work.”

“No. At best you’d give a slight boost to healing, and that is even if the patient could keep the concoction down.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but Mistress Odera held up one hand.

“Yes, you could add further forms to suppress nausea, but to what end?” The older woman took a sip of her tea, then shook her head with a sigh. “It is a clever idea, I’ll grant you that, but there is a fatal flaw.”

“Oh?” Tala frowned. What did we miss?

“Either you use a regenerative inscription, and the olive oil won’t contain nearly enough to do what is needed, thus leaving the user weakened, at best. Or, you use a healing inscription, in which case the ingestion and the olive oil are both unnecessary.”

Tala nodded absently. “And the second isn’t a good option, because people are unique, and a generic healing spell-form could easily do more harm than good.”

“Precisely.”

“But, wouldn’t a withering or weakening be better than bleeding out?”

“In the short-term, yes. That’s why guardsmen, or soldiers, often carry emergency items for such a purpose, but there is only a small segment of potential wounds that they are useful for. Too free of use can cause more death than the original injuries, and even proper use can lead to long-term side effects to the patient’s health. So, if there are better options available, they should always be used first.”

Tala grunted. “Fair, I suppose.”

The topic shifted, and Tala reluctantly brought up her family.

Mistress Odera was proud of her for facing them and applauded her plan to go talk with any who wished after breakfast.

Tala didn’t correct her to ensure that the woman knew that her parents weren’t included in that invitation. I was clear enough.

She was sure of that. No need to clarify at all.

They briefly touched on Tala’s training before Tala finished practically licking her plate clean and bid her overseer a good day.

*      *      *

As Tala drew closer to her childhood street, she felt a growing anxiety. There had been a late-night snowfall, and the cool dusting felt good on her bare feet, but such couldn’t keep her attention with the upcoming meeting on her mind.

What if no one wants to talk to me?

-Nalac will.-

You don’t think he’ll be convinced not to?

-That doesn’t make much sense…right?-

But what if?

Alat paused for a long moment as Tala kept walking. -If no one is there, then we can leave and put them behind us forever.-

Tala breathed deeply, thinking on that worst case. That helps, thank you.

-Now, if they show up just to scream at you? I’m not sure what we’ll do.-

Tala felt her eye twitch. Are you rusting kidding me?

-What? If we’re looking for the worst-case scenario, it isn’t “no one showing up.”-

She did not like that thought, but as she came around the corner, Tala saw that there was no one waiting outside the shop. Well, that’s that, then.

-You didn’t actually tell them to wait for you in any particular place. You just said you’d be back. It’s cold. They’re probably inside.-

As she closed the distance, the door opened and a small head poked out, looking the other way. The small, bundled head then turned, seeing Tala approaching. There were some people on the streets, but Tala knew she stood out, even if only because of her lack of winter-wear.

“SHE’S HERE!” The little voice called out.

I don’t know who that is.

-Yeah, we didn’t ask.-

Before Tala covered the last hundred yards, people piled out of the door, and she pulled up short, shock making her steps hesitant. She did a quick count. Fourteen. Even the little three-year-old had come along.

When Tala had left, she’d had twelve siblings. Now I have fourteen.

-At least. You’re assuming that they all came.-

Even so, Tala felt her eyes start tearing up. Oh, come on. This is ridiculous.

She gilded herself and walked forward, pulling a smile across her features. “Good morning.”

A smattering of greetings tumbled over each other, causing the small crowd to laugh nervously.

Tala stopped a few paces away from the huddled, winter-gear shrouded group. It was interesting seeing all of their breaths puffing out in steamy fog in different cadences and with different volumes.

There was a moment of silence, as everyone waited for someone else to speak.

Tala cleared her throat. “So, is there anywhere we could go to talk? I don’t know the area very well anymore.” She awkwardly scratched the front of her own shoulder.

Latna immediately nodded. “Yeah, there’s a tea house a couple of blocks from here. They should be willing to give us the use of a private sitting room, so long as we get a few drinks.” The woman hefted the small pouch from the night before. “We can afford at least that.”

Tala nodded. “Lead the way.”

The trek started out with more awkward silence, but that was broken after barely a dozen paces by the second smallest sibling piping up with a question. “Aren’t you cold?”

Tala looked down at the little boy who had sped up to walk beside her. “I’m not, no.”

He gave her a skeptical look. “I have to wear my coat and boots, or I’ll be cold. Mother says so.”

“That’s true enough; it’s quite the chilly day.”

He looked down at her feet. “You aren’t even wearing shoes.”

Tala looked down at her feet too as she walked down the street. She grinned as she saw the minimal, round impression in the snow around each one of her steps. “Yeah, well, my feet don’t get cold very easily.” After a moment’s hesitation, she asked. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know your name.”

“Olen!” He announced proudly. “I’m almost six.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Olen.”

“It is, isn’t it.” He grinned back.

Tala found herself chuckling.

Olen opened his mouth, likely to ask something else, when someone in the group walking right behind them spoke up. “Speaking of your feet… Why aren’t they sinking into the snow? What’s with the circles?”

Tala glanced back, finding the speaker. If she had to guess, it was Alva, the youngest of the third set of twins. “Well, Alva, I have inscriptions that distribute my weight across a wider surface area, on whatever I step on, so I have surer footing, and don’t break anything I step on by accident.”

Another voice chimed in. “What? Are you really heavy or something?”

That earned the older boy glares from all his sisters, save Tala. Tala just laughed. “I actually am, Miro, yeah.” Older than Nalac, younger than Caln, he’s grown up so much. He was right around Olen’s age when I left. “It’s a part of my Magic, actually. My body is enhanced and strengthened, and one result of that is that I’m quite a bit heavier than normal.”

Miro looked around triumphantly, completely uncowed by his sisters’ displeasure.

Latna glanced back, ensuring they were following as they continued to walk, taking her role as the leader seriously, and ensuring that they all made it to the tea-house.

I wonder how often she’s had to fill that role for them, since I left. The thought caused her feelings of sadness and guilt to spike.

Tala saw Caln near the back, though he didn’t say anything, or even give a motion of greeting. She would have to talk to the older two alone at some point. She’d actually been close to both of them…once.

“What’s it like being a Mage?” It was the other of the younger girls. Well, aside from the toddler.

“Well, Nea, it’s wonderful in almost every way. I didn’t really enjoy the Academy, but I did get to learn magic there. My work is dangerous at times, but it’s rewarding, and I got to pick what I wanted to do.” She grinned. “I still do get to choose, really.”

The little girl frowned. “Then, why are you mad that you’re a Mage?”

The older siblings made motions of shushing, but Tala shook her head. “It’s a fine question.” She slowed down just a bit and the young girl sped up, so that Tala was walking beside Nea. Tala spoke so that everyone could hear her clearly. “I’m not mad that I’m a Mage. I am angry that our parents sold me off without talking to me.”

Nea frowned. “But you like being a Mage.”

Tala sighed. “Would you like being married off to someone, without being asked?”

The girl straightened. “Of course not!”

“But what if you liked the man, and he was good to you, and you had a good life as a result?”

Nea hesitated. “Then…I don’t know?”

“Exactly.” Tala let out a long breath. “I am angry at what our parents did, not how it turned out.”

That caused the group to fall into contemplative silence.

“We’re here!” Latna broke them out of their reverie.

The group pushed through the door and into the warm interior of the tea-shop.

The attendants seemed a bit overwhelmed by the sudden influx. The shop was by no means empty, but it was also nowhere near full.

Tala spoke before anyone else could. “I’d like a private room that can fit all of us, please.” She’d discussed this possibility with Mistress Odera and with Alat, earlier. “Open a tab for us, and get any of us whatever they want.” She pulled a gold coin from Kit and set it on the counter. “I’ll expect an accounting of the charges, as well as the change, when we leave.”

The woman’s eyes widened as she took the coin from the counter. “We don’t usually deal with gold…Mistress?”

Tala nodded. “Feel free to test if it's authentic. I imagine the manager on duty or owner will be grateful that you did.” Tala cleared her throat, smiling a little self-conciously. “But could we be directed to the room first?”

“Certainly, Mistress.” The woman bowed, indicating two servers who were standing nearby. “Please take this party to the Falcon’s Nest.” She looked towards Tala. “It is at the top of the building, and our finest room.”

“That will do nicely. Thank you.” She turned back to her brothers and sisters and froze.

All of the siblings were staring at her.

“What?”

Caln sighed from his place at the back of the group. “That’s a lot of money.”

“I’m aware. I’ll be getting most of it back. I just didn’t want them fighting us over the room.”

The young man shook his head. “Whatever you say, Mistress.”

Tala swept her gaze over the others and saw more uncertainty than had been there before.

Great… I did it again, didn’t I?

-So, it would seem. I think more subtlety would have been better. Less showy.-

I wasn’t trying to show off!

-Yeah, but they don’t know that.-

Tala did her best to keep from grinding her teeth.

One of the attendants cleared his throat. “This way, please?”

He led them up three flights of stairs and to a room that was little more than a roof held up by four posts. The entirety of the four walls between ceiling and floor were made of glass, giving a stunning view of the surrounding city and the countryside beyond.

The siblings gasped, ooo-ing and ah-ing.

The attendant directed them to sections of the floor that opened to allow them to store their coats and boots before they sat at the low tables, situated on thick rugs, surrounded by cushions.

It wasn’t a style of seating that Tala was used to, but she’d seen it on occasion.

The other attendant passed menus to each of their group, and together, the two worked to answer questions and gather the orders.

Thus, in less than five minutes, the siblings were left alone in comfort, their food and drink on the way.

Most were looking out the windows, enjoying a new perspective on their home. Olen had been the first to spot their shop, and they’d laughed about how it looked from this vantage point.

Unfortunately, the views only held their collective attention for so long, and soon enough, awkward silence fell yet again.

“So…” Tala swallowed. “Do you all have more questions, or may I ask some of my own?”

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