Wraithwood Botanist

Chapter 30 - Threading

I looked at the "spinal stones" in a new light. This whole time, I was tossing bloody rocks into a bag as if they were the most irrelevant thing in the world when, in reality, I was collecting raw power.

"This probably won’t mean much to you," Lithco said, "but second evolution is the last evolution creatures can reach on the other side of Galfer’s Gate. So everything you’ve got in that bag would sell for serious money."

"These?" I asked, looking at the reiga and shalk cores. "Is everyone so weak out there?"

Lithco’s lips curved into a sinister smile.

"What’s that smile for?" I asked.

"Those creatures are the bunnies and rats of the Areswood Forest," Lithco said. "If you weren’t in the divide, you’d be facing beasts with powers like Kline."

I imagined fighting beasts that could teleport and turn invisible and release long-ranged attacks and shivered.

"Get it?" he asked seriously. "Luckily, you have the resources and mana cores necessary to get strong. That starts with building a core."

"You already have a core," Lithco said, "It’s just weak. To make it stronger, you use a chant to spin the core. The energy becomes a magnet that sucks in more mana like a winding thread around a bobbin. The more mana you have on hand, the stronger you can get. That’s where cores come in. They’re mana reservoirs; by unraveling them, you can absorb the mana inside."

"So how do I do that?" I asked, looking at them, regretful that I wasn’t taking care of them.

"Well, you can start by cleaning them," Lithco said, curling his lip and scrunching his nose. "After that," he said, "you put them into your mouth and use another chant to unravel them."

I now understood his expression—I almost gagged.

"But you don’t have to worry about that right now," Lithco said. "That elixir will link you with the area of your subconscious necessary to manipulate mana, and you’ll likely have a guide giving you instructions. You won’t have any problem absorbing mana."

"A guide?" I asked. "Wait, that’s a real thing?"

"It is. There’s not a lot of data on lumidra since it’s rare, but everyone who has taken it in the Areswood Forest describes meeting an entity called ’Yakana’ who taught them the nature of mana. A famous god named Brindle Grask is said to have had a close relationship with this entity."

"Allegedly? How don’t you know?"

"I have recording restrictions on higher-level entities," Lithco said, leaning back. "It’s a perk of reaching higher evolutions. As for the lower evolutions..." He tapped his temple twice. "I can only read their surface thoughts. The conversation with Yakana happens in an area within your subconscious."

I rubbed my eyes. "But if it’s in my subconscious, how can I speak to it? That seems... impossible."

"I’m not sure how it works," Lithco said, "but I imagine it’s like a radio station. By ingesting the spores, you connect to a certain frequency, and you can hear Yakana. That would explain why only people who have taken the elixir in the Areswood Forest have heard Yakana and the rest haven’t."

I nodded. It was all so strange, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that strange voice from the river. No one should have been able to speak underwater—no one was around. They were in my thoughts. I wondered if it was the same entity.

Lithco studied my expression. Then he looked at the bag of mana cores. "Well? You gonna clean those or what?"

"R-Right..." I quickly complied, activating the bathtub and washing them with soap. Only then did I groan and stare at the cores. "Purify," I whispered. All the grime and blood and gunk that was still stuck to them instantly slid off as if it were carried away by a running river. It was surreal. "Seriously?" I groaned.

Kline heckled me. I sent him the stink eye but then sighed and offered him the turquoise core. He pawed it back at me. Translation: No, you need it more, you weak-ass bitch. That wasn’t the real message, but it was how I felt about it. So I was grateful and petted his ears. I would get stronger, for his sake.

"Is there anything else I should know before I take this?" I asked Lithco, grabbing the elixir.

"Nope," Lithco said. "Just drink it and chant. It’ll take care of the rest."

I turned to Kline. "You ready?"

He smiled wryly.

"Yeah, me neither."

He slunk over to the corner of the room and reluctantly brought me his water bowl, dropping it on the ground before me.

"Okay." I shook the elixir, measured out a spoonful, and put it into the bowl. Kline immediately licked it up and howled, dropping to the ground. But he crawled back to the bowl and licked up the rest. He didn’t waste a single drop.

I measured out a spoonful and put it in my mouth as well. It burned like dry ice, and it took everything in my power not to spit it out. But I forced it down and closed the lid.

2.

As Mira was waiting for the elixir to take effect, Aiden was in a liscan-drawn carriage with his proctor, Alitalia, inbound to the Third Ring, where Aiden would be tested on his candidacy for making trips to the Fourth Ring.

He looked out the window. It was almost sunset, and the carriage was passing through Restam, a city with water flowing in the sky and purification channels. He found it strange how advanced certain parts of the city were and how... lacking other areas were.

"Aren’t you curious?" Alitalia asked.

"About what?"

"Where we’re going?"

Aiden furrowed his brows. "Aren’t we going to the Cursed Aviary?"

—but the moment its hoove touched down, the elk turned into a bear. The next step turned it into a shalk. Then, it took a third and became a human man. He paused and turned to me.

"So you’re everything?" I whispered abstractedly.

No. I am an assimilation—a remnant of the many souls who wished to protect this forest instead of merging with nature. So I exist through such souls, but I am none.

"I see..." It didn’t make sense—but it did. It was both abstract and clear as day, like knowing the importance of air but unable to truly know why without theories and science. "So what do you want?"

I wish to show you the nature of death so that you may appreciate life. To show you destruction, so that you may learn to protect.

"To show value..."

Yes. What do you want? What do you seek in this forest?

"To live my life in nature," I whispered without hesitation.

Even after what you’ve seen?

I might have struggled more, but under the effects of the elixir, I felt far more honest with myself. "Yes..." I said. "I love this forest. I’d love to live here. I just... don’t want to die."

Then allow me to aid you so that you may appreciate it.

Yakana morphed into a silhouette of me and walked over, offering his hand.

I grabbed it, and my entire body jolted as Yakana’s form melted and absorbed within me. It felt revolting, but I could feel nothing but trust for Yakana, and once we merged, I felt nothing but absolute comfort.

Now close your eyes, Yakana said.

I closed my eyes a second time, feeling a deeper connection with the mana around me. It felt like a galaxy.

Repeat after me, Yakana said, ’Eroí kai mythikoí, ektithémenoi sti...."

The words and their accent slipped off my tongue as if I had spoken them my whole life. Energy flooded into my body, and suddenly, the words had meaning, as if they were keys on a piano. Soon, I began speaking the words I had never heard before Yakana said them, locking our words together in a hypnotic chant. With each word, mana entered my body, circulating around in complex networks.

Suddenly, all the blockages in my mana channels started to break away, like a flowing stream breaking through dirt blocking its way. For the first time, the mana reached my heart, which spread it through my body—making it to my spine. It felt loose and chaotic—lawless.

You have now established mana flow. It is through this state that you have energy. Now thread. Kryfá orízonta éklampan...

Yakana began chanting again, and so did I. That chant shifted everything. The energy reversed course in some areas, pressing forward in others, weaving together in a complex framework. It was intricate, but Yakana’s presence made it as effortless as breathing. I was so free that I almost stopped chanting.

Now speak the word and activate your core, Yakana instructed.

"Churn," I responded. It wasn’t a grand word—it was a nickname. Any word would’ve done, but my subconscious chose that one, helping ground me. Suddenly, that sliver of energy in my spine spun, and that mana flowing through me wrapped around it like a ball of yarn.

Faster.

I followed Yakana’s instructions, speeding up. That caused blockages in my mana channels to burst open. I cried out and wanted to stop—but I didn’t. I took all that energy and threaded it.

Tighter.

I took that network and wound it like a bobbin, keeping the threads together.

Do not lose focus.

I didn’t. I kept focused. This energy felt so real, natural, and intoxicating. My body was in pain but euphoric, like all the times I had eaten Ghost Peppers and Carolina Reapers. I loved it. I needed it. So I kept pressing on and on and on until the atmosphere around me changed.

The forest disappeared, and soon, I was surrounded by a cosmos-like image of mana flowing around me. I was seeing mana in its rawest form—the tapestry.

"How?" I asked, wondering how to interact with that mana.

Speak the language of the world. Pyriná trápeza lékountai....

I started chanting, and the world shook and trembled as if there were powerful, chaotic winds around me.

Control it.

Sweat poured down my body, but I kept focused, trying to interact with the chaotic hurricane outside.

Do not forget about your threading.

I groaned and regained control of the energy flowing within me. Doing both was like juggling and riding a bike. If I hadn’t been connected to mana and fused with Yakana, I would have failed. Yet I had many advantages, so I kept focused, trying to do both. It took many hours before I could do it, but soon, mana was flowing around me, captured in reds and blues and greens and yellows and purples, each swirling around me—and within me—in beautiful patterns.

Now speak the word, child.

I had been waiting for this moment for quite some time. I thought of Yakana’s desire—to show me the nature of death and rebirth, so I chose the word I felt was most fitting.

"Apokálypsis."