Chapter 72: Marigold (Patreon)

“Wow.”

Zed stood to the side, taking pleasure in the amazement he heard in Shanine’s voice.

“Told you,” he smirked.

“Beautiful trees are not blooming trees,” she said absently, staring at the sight before them, her mouth held slightly ajar.

Zed and Shanine stood before a wall of tall trees colored so brightly and so bountifully that it was a strain to count them all. Just the ones in front of them bore a total of at least eight colors by Zed’s count.

“There’s got to be at least twenty colors between these five trees,” Shanine said, gesturing in front of her.

“Twenty?” Zed asked, confused. “How the hell did you get twenty? I only see like eight.”

“That’s because you’re a guy,” she said, waving aside his statement.

Zed made a thoughtful sound, studying the trees for any color he’d missed.

“Let me see,” he said, tapping a finger against his jaw. “There’s blue, purple, red, yellow, white, grey or ash—never could tell which one’s which—pink, red, orange, green. That’s eight. I count eight.”

“Exactly,” Shanine said. “A guy.”

“Is this some form of sexism I don’t understand?”

Shanine shook her head. “Nope. Just an observation of the fact that you missed out on forest green.” Then she started pointing out colors. “And right there, just at the edge of the yellow is actually gold not yellow. That’s ox-blood not red. That’s verdigris green. That’s marigold.”

“Marigold’s not a color,” Zed muttered. “It’s a plant.”

“And verdigris is an effect of atmospheric condition, yet it is still used to more accurately describe a color.” Shanine turned to him with a smirk. “Like a said, you’re a guy. Colors are more of a girl’s thing, and I’m sure your girlfriend knows ten for every two you know.”

“Ha!” Zed laughed. “Jokes on you, she’s color blind.”

Shanine paused. “Your girlfriend’s color blind?”

“Didn’t I just say that?”

“And you’re laughing about it,” Shanine shook her head. “That’s kind of insensitive.”

Zed shrugged. “She’ll be fine. I intend on giving her sight back tomorrow.”

“You plan on…” Shanine’s words trailed off into a sigh. “Your girlfriend isn’t color blind, is she?”

Zed gave her a wide smile. “Nope.”

“It’s getting harder to tell when you’re serious.”

“I know,” Zed chuckled, then caught her by the arm before you walked into the forest. “Why don’t I take a short break before you do that.”

Zed’s core was already hurting. The pain was strong enough that the smile he held on his face was strained even now. He remembered the brief time he’d been in the forest and how all his recovery speeds had taken significant drops in their rate. If he walked in there now, who knew how hard it would be for him.

“How about you go sit over there,” he told Shanine, gesturing towards a tree eight trees removed to their left.

“Why?” she asked, already moving.

“Because the closer you are,” he sat down on the grass, “the more painful it will be for you.”

When Shanine settled down beside the tree he’d pointed out, Zed took a deep breath. He let it out as gently as he could. He felt for his core and his mana channels.

His core was growing worse each time he checked it. Now it was expanded, cracks running along its length. Mana spilled from it like smoke from liquid nitrogen. It wasn’t that it was full to bursting, more like it was made of metal and he’d applied way too much heat, expanding it beyond its acceptable limit so that now it was deteriorating. It could contain more in volume but it was rapidly losing durability. Cracks were beginning to grow.

It was also full to bursting.

He remembered the monsters in the forest and how they had given him much of a fight when he was armed with nothing but his regeneration and barely a piece of wood. He wondered how much different it would be now. He had since learned that mutated monsters to ranked monsters were the version of awakened mages to ranked mages. With that in mind Zed decided he would move to category two within the forest. The monsters were weak and it was safer for him.

As for Shanine, he’d have her climb a tree before he advanced. Just in case.

He sat cycling his core, easing the pain as he pushed mana from it into the rest of his body, relieving it slightly by spreading the pain when a notification popped up.

New Quest: [Advance]

You have been saddled with the gift of mana. Your core is full and growth stands on the horizon. Trigger your advancement and rise to the next category. Only then can you grow.

· Objective: Advance to category two.

· Reward: [Category two].

· Bonus objective: Don’t damage your [Mana core] 0/1.

· Reward: None.

· You have 1 pending Quest.

Zed laughed heartily.

He stared at the notification, laughter spilling from him like a man at a comedy show until he was no longer laughing. His laughter had broken his concentration and thrown his cycling off. It resulted in a sharp pain that stemmed from just below his navel where his core was and it sent pain screaming through his body.

Laughter morphed into pained groans in a matter of seconds and Zed struggled through it with a force of will.

“That was uncalled for,” he groaned, one hand clutching his stomach as he stared at the notification. “Now you’re just making threats.”

He took slow deep breaths, measured and consistent. The pain ebbed slowly as his breaths grew deeper with each relief. When pain was nothing but a numb shadow in a distance, he spoke again.

“That was a low blow, throwing me off like that,” he said to the notification. “And where do you get the audacity to give me a quest without an actual reward? Advance to category two,” he mocked, the humor leaving him. “Guess what your reward is. Surprise! Category two! Asshole.”

Containing his displeasure, Zed pushed himself back into cycling, turning his mana within his core, molding it in a spiral like a turning wheel, until the pain was numb again.

Then he got up.

“Alright,” he muttered to himself, “that should last me another half a day. Hopefully I won’t need that long. Get the child her food, feed the child her food, then move to category two in an advantageous position.” He nodded then turned to Shanine. “C’mon, kiddo, let’s go.”

From where she was seated next to a tree, Shanine frowned. Getting up she walked up to him and they met each other half-way.

“Where’d that come from?” she asked curiously.

Zed shrugged, turning his attention back to the wall of colorful trees.

“You’re a kid,” he answered. “Ergo, kiddo. It’s not that far of a stretch.”

“I’m not a kid,” she mumbled.

“Really?”

Zed leaned forward, bending slightly at the waist so that they were at eye level, just to prove his point.

“I’m short not a child,” she said defiantly. “There’s a difference.”

“Alright, then. So how old are you?”

“Eighteen in a few days.”

Zed reeled back as if physically struck, rising back to his full height.

“Eighteen,” he mused. “That’s… that’s—you don’t look eighteen.”

“Like I said, I’m short.”

“Your face is also young.” Zed rubbed his jaw. “What’s your skin care routine?”

“I don’t have one.”

“So… Genetics?” Zed asked, then turned back to the trees absently. “God bless genetics. Anyway, let’s go get you something to eat.”

As if to buttress his statement, Shanine’s stomach rumbled. Zed smiled but didn’t look at her. Instead, he made a polite gesture towards the trees.

“Ladies first,” he said.

Shanine stepped into the forest without question and Zed followed behind her. He walked between two trees each one as wide as a car was long with colors so gay and bright anyone color sensitive would’ve puked.

“Is it me or are these trees larger than I remember?” he mused.

“You’ve been here before?” Shanine asked, stepping gently.

“Yea. You can think of this place as my home, my hospital, my midwife, my place of birth.” He smiled softly. “My two-second home.”

“So you know it like the back of your hand.”

Zed barked a humorous laugh. “Like the back of my hand, she says. Did you miss the part where I said my two-second home? You know, like my home for like two seconds.”

Shanine looked back at him with doubtful eyes.

“Okay, maybe not two seconds,” he said, “but definitely short enough that I don’t know it like the back of my hand.”

They stepped past the trees and into the forest.

· You have entered a zone with low mana density.

· Mana recovery is now at 5%

· Stamina recovery is now at 8%

· Health recovery is now at 4%

“Ah, there it is,” Zed sighed. “I can’t say I’ve missed you.”

“What’s that?” Shanine asked.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” he told her. “Just keep going straight, then take a left at the rainbow tree.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know this place.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why are you giving directions like you know the place?”

“Well, you can take a right if you want, or keep going straight, but I’m taking a left at the rainbow tree because that’s the right way.”

Shanine got to the rainbow tree and took a left turn without hesitation.

“Good girl,” Zed said, taking the same turn.

“So why left?” she asked.

“Because there’s a monster to the right and a pack of monsters a few trees straight ahead.”

“Oh.”

Zed smiled at the fear in her voice.

“Don’t worry,” he assured her. “You’re in good hands. Besides, if we see any monster, we can always just run.”

“Yea,” she mumbled, speaking again after a moment. “Wait, didn’t you say the monsters here are weak?”

“I did, didn’t I.”

“Then why are we running? You’re a mage, can’t you just kill them?”

“Nope.”

Zed tapped her shoulder, steering her right and around another tree. Evening had already dawned and she moved, guided by the light from the rays of dying sunlight that streamed through the natural canopy.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because I’m in a bit of a delicate situation. If I kill any more monsters, I could die.”

“That doesn’t sound right.”

“I know. But you don’t have to worry about understanding it, it’s a mage thing.”

“Sounds more like a you thing.”

It most likely is, Zed thought.

His aura sense picked out another monster just ahead of them. There were two, actually. But judging by the way the second aura came dwindling, he assumed the second one was dying.

What are the chances one’s eating the other? He thought as he steered Shanine away from their direction. It brought up memories of a Moscovian sloth and he shivered.