Wraithwood Botanist

B2 - R: Chapter 9 - Elana Saliea

I wanted to be prepared to meet Elana—I wasn’t.

Her entrance wasn’t dramatic like Lithcos’. She didn’t rip apart space and time or walk outside of a try or fly from the heavens, coming down on wings. She just blinked into existence like someone turned on a projector—but her presence was absolutely overbearing.

Elana was unlike anyone I had ever seen before. She was human—she had eyes and a face and a nose and ears and all the other strange and wondrous features that humans have. Yet she was different. Her ears were slightly pointed, tastefully so to make her look cute, but not enough to take away from her womanly figure, which was, quite honestly, offensively perfect. She was wearing a purple cocktail dress that showed off an hourglass figure that princesses suffocated themselves in corsets to obtain and curves that were perfectly proportionate to her shoulders, arms, and waist. Most of all, her natural face was contoured and smooth like makeup, and foundation had been applied to it by default. She would seem like the perfect woman—

—if there was not something unnerving about her skin and bone structures. Her face seemed to correct itself, always presenting the most optimal shading for the lighting and distance, smoothly and hypnotically, as if it were constantly gaslighting you, making you think that all human faces did something that strange and alluring. The more I thought about it, the more disturbing it became until it was all I could think about.

"You see this?" Elana asked as she stared at my gobsmacked expression. "This is why you invest in beauty. It comes with respect and privilege deprived of those without it."

I blinked a few times, trying to comprehend that those were the first words she spoke to me.

"Well?" Elana asked. "Are you going to stare, or shall you introduce yourself?"

I lost my voice and stumbled and looked at her feet and a tree and her face but quickly looked away. "Uh... my name... is Mira. I... um. I like plants. Uh... I wasn’t exactly... meant to come here. And... I’m not an alchemist. But... I want to... learn?"

Elana scoffed. "Unbelievable. The work we must do for your presentation is truly devastating."

My stomach sank more than my rage flared.

"Listen, Mira. Power is established from first appearance. If you bumble around bandits, you will get yourself killed. If you freeze in business negotiations, the other party will wring you dry. Business. Relationships. Danger. Confidence and poise protect you. They aren’t "traits"—they’re skills. And we must master them before the Harvest reaps your innocence..."

Elana flicked her hand. The grime and chemicals and ingredients splattered on my shirt, sloshed off my body, and my skin gained an ambient glow. My rough, fraying hair turned straight and silky as if combed, and my hands looked moisturized. My clothing morphed into thick leather armor with black and gold accents, studded with arm guards.

It was fake, of course. Elana couldn’t use magic in this form. Despite that, she did it and created an illusionary mirror in front of me.

My eyes widened when I saw myself. I looked like a warrior, sporting leather that had been cut by swords but a strong crest on my chest and a bow on my back. Two daggers were on my waist, and I had the chains of a necklace hidden, threatening the unknown. I looked like a war general. Despite that—

—my face was masterfully contoured with makeup, and my hair was smooth and refined. Having a beautiful appearance didn’t make me seem less intimidating—it made me look more horrifying. It spoke of an upbringing with combat tutors and military service rather than a life of banditry.

"You see now?" Elana created another mirror and showed my actual appearance: hair dirty and greased with plant matter, Darwin shirt ripped—jeans a size too large and square.

I cringed.

"It’s clear that you have never taken interest or concern in your beauty," Elana said. "Since you’re talented, I shall blame that on ignorance. But for now on, you will spend a paltry fifteen minutes presenting yourself in a mirror in the mornings or I will refuse to teach you. I refuse to let my pupil show such weakness."

I took a deep breath, holding back a deep pang of rage. My initial reaction was to tell Elana to shove it. I was in a forest, fighting for my life, and the last thing I cared about was my beauty. I loved plants. That’s all that mattered. I didn’t care about business or people.

Yet—once I witnessed myself in tailored battle armor and saw how terrifying I looked, I realized the value of presentation. She truly believed that it was necessary to protect me.

Still—

"I..." I looked around me. "But we’re in the woods..."

The muscles in Elana’s face slackened into a deep frown and she looked at Kline, who was narrowing his eyes at her. "Are you blind?"

He growled.

"No? Are you stupid?"

He hissed.

"Then why does your companion think you’re incapable of judging?"

"Point taken," I said.

"Then try again. This time, tell me who you are as if I were a worm that you’re forced to meet for diplomatic reasons. Do not hold back."

I felt a dull throb in my heart, annoyance yet excitement, mixed emotions in a cauldron. Then I closed my eyes and lashed out.

"My name is Mira Hill. A week ago, this fucked up system brought me here after telling me that my love for plants was worthless. Now, I need a diamond level information suppression request to protect myself from the throngs of gods and humans fighting over me. Keep that in mind before you bully me around, as my love for plants trumps my love for alchemy or any other art."

Elana’s eyes shone with cold light, and I had to force myself to avoid recoiling.

"Good until your hesitation at the end. Practice before the harvest. As for me, I am your teacher and patron god and you will treat me as such. Keep that in mind."

I nodded. "Yes ma’am."

"Elana," she corrected.

Cost: Bronze

—---

The description triggered a vicious, vindictive argument between my mind and heart, filling me with euphoria that I was being offered a fifth-tier spell for a bronze request—but making me hate life that I was nowhere near creating it. It was bittersweet and tart, nearly sour at the same time. What a trip.

"This’s..." I sighed. "I’ll be honest, I don’t get it. How can something this complex cost a bronze?"

"Because you don’t get the enchantments," Elana said. "It’ll tell you you need advanced equipment—even though you don’t have it. Remember—this’s a recipe."

I smiled wryly.

"So I can’t use it."

"No. But..."

I looked up.

"Verbalize that you just want the same thing, only something just to close wounds."

I did and got another message—this one surreal. It read:

—---

Multiple recipes match your requirements. The best match:

Name: Illyndra Elixir

Tier: 3

Description: Wheeeeeeew. That woman just crushed your hopes and dreams just so your hopes would peak. This elixir won’t recreate limbs, but it will automatically close wounds, plugging arrow wounds like a tire goo. Best of all, it uses minimal enchantments and is within your reach. With a little practice, you increase your survival rate by 10%. Just make sure you pay attention to purity and follow the directions. There are side effects and warnings befitting something this absurd. Obviously.

—---

I looked at Elana, who smirked at me. "You’re going to teach me how to make this?"

Elana rolled her eyes. I took that as a yes and joined her at the front while she taught me how to create the base for it, skillfully processing ingredients and showing me which spells could increase my efficiency, like a grinding spell. It took away much of the romanticism of grinding ingredients, but watching ingredients dry, chop, and powder themselves, moving around in flowing streams above her body, mixing and marbling, and creating perfect mixtures filled me with a sense of wonder.

She mixed the ingredients, adding sap and a catalyst that broke down the sap into a very thin liquid, nearly comparable to water. Now, it just needed a monomer that would turn it hard—but that was the complicated part.

"What separates the alchemic tiers?" Elana asked.

"I... don’t know," I said. "I’d say enchantments, but I just created a third tier creation."

"Astute observation," Elana said. "If you need higher level magic to create it, you will have higher grades attached to it. However, you can also get higher tiers from the volatility of the ingredients and compounds you use. Your Awakening Elixir was, in essence, a tincture, yet it was a third-tier creation because the ingredients were extremely unstable. You needed to use purifying spells and control the airflow and environment."

"I see..."

"So what do you suppose’ll be difficult about making this elixir?"

"Uh... creating a liquid that hardens when it leaves your body... I can’t imagine that’s healthy."

Elana smiled. "Exactly. To do that, we need to create a liquid that stays a liquid until it’s exposed to air. How does that work?"

"You use a monomer that rapidly polymerizes once exposed to air," I said. "Like... super glue." It was a strange answer, but it was true. Super glue is liquid in the bottle but rapidly hardens when exposed to air.

"Good. How do people make such glue."

"Removing moisture and creating air tight packaging."

"And how do they accomplish that?"

"With vacuum technology and distillation."

"How will we pull it off?"

"Magic."

"Correct. And we do that with what’s known as a domain—the most important combat and defense spell you’ll ever learn."