Wraithwood Botanist

Felio sighed as she prepared for bed. She loved her life—she really did. She could grow plants and concoct alchemic creations, and learn to her heart’s content.

But there were things she didn’t like.

Namely, corsets.

Suffocating beneath restrictive garments was something she expressly didn’t like—

—alongside arranged marriages.

Her genius had allowed her to sidestep a union up until then, but recently, she had attended mixers to meet a pool of "suitable" men and get her acclimated to marriage. If she found someone she liked, her family would consider them; if she didn’t, they would arrange a marriage. That was their way of saying that she should choose—

—and she was trying.

The last thing she wanted to do was get stuck with a sadist like Kal Melhan.

Felio collapsed on her bed, activating an array under the sheets to make the mattress form fit to her body. Then she replayed the conversations she had with three men that night.

"Why are they all so…" She winced. "Boring?"

She closed her eyes and rolled over, thinking enviously of Mira and her freedom.

Aiden contacted her on Mira’s behalf that winter, and she was still alive and extending a branch. But she didn’t get her hopes up.

No one had survived the year in Areswood for centuries. Full battalions led by families had vanished without a trace. There wasn’t even any message despite promises of them. People just disappeared.

It wasn’t always that way.

In the past, even small groups would survive periodically.

But not anymore.

So even though Mira had that cat and a pack of third-evolution beasts protecting her—

—Felio didn’t get her hopes up.

No one survived the year.

No one.

Felio sighed, and then she got a notification that sent her mind reeling. It read: "You have a message from Scion Mira Hill," as if destiny itself had intervened and demanded them to talk.

"Wait…" Felio said, looking out the window. "It’s summer… She survived."

Felio quickly read the letter, and her heart raced, and she couldn’t get to bed. So she just lay there until the sun crested the horizon, then left her room, greeted her guards, flew down the stairs, and met her mother and father at the breakfast table hours before breakfast, a sacred time when the two of them shared a room in silence, practicing their keen ability to ignore each other.

"Is there a reason you’re here so early?" her father asked.

"Wearing that?" her mother said, eyeing her sleepwear.

"Yes… no. I could’ve waited till I was dressed—but this is urgent news."

"So urgent you couldn’t get dressed?" her mother pressed.

"Let her speak." Her father put down his teacup. "What is it?"

"I got a letter from Mira," Felio said.

The room’s atmosphere shifted drastically, and her father immediately pointed to the servants and guards in the room.

"Out," he said.

They left, and he eyed Felio carefully. "What does it say?"

"It’s an invitation—"

"Read it."

"But… these are personal."

"Read. It."

Felio gulped, declaring to warn Mira to write decoy letters because she was terrible at lying and paraphrasing the next time they spoke. Then she read:

"Dear Felio. I would officially like to invite you, upon certain conditions, to live and study alchemy with me in Areswood Forest next year. It sounds crazy, I know, but as it turned out, living here isn’t so difficult when you have a home and you’re being protected by seven third-evolution lurvines and a killer cat. It’s actually quite nice."

Her mother glanced at her husband, trying to judge if he would even entertain such a letter.

He did.

"It’s also rich with so many plants," Felio continued. "I wish you could see it during the spring—the way that vines curl up trees and moss blooms in crazy colors. The way that flowers pop up in swarms, killing ground cover before releasing toxic petals and dying for the year. It’s a beautiful alchemic paradise.

"Speaking of which, killing that torok gave me a diamond reward and I spent it on an alchemic highlighting book. As a result, I have three hundred jars of expensive ingredients—and I’ve emptied them five times. There’s just so much to make. I can’t go on a hike without leaving with a new recipe’s worth of ingredients."

Felio’s father gripped his teacup to maintain his composure, but Felio could see the liquid rippling subtly.

"So I did the only rational thing," Felio read. "I made creations. Dozens of them. And I’ll be doing more next year.

"I’ll be ordering a hundred pounds of equipment and enough preservation chambers to fill up a storage room. It will be an extraordinary year—and I’m inviting you and eight guards to join us. I will provide soul cooking, comfortable housing, and ingredients. You won’t even need to leave my alchemy workstation if you don’t want to.

"Oh, and I made a bathhouse as well. It’s gonna be a blast."

Felio blushed reading it. "I’m sure this is a cultural thing," she said. "Or maybe it’s to bathe alone? I’m not sure. It’s just—"

"Leave it," her father said. "Her customs don’t concern me."

Felio’s mind churned at the realization that her father’s indifference to Mira’s customs might actually mean he was considering this proposal seriously.

"Continue," he ordered.

"Oh, right…" Felio looked at the screen again. "There’s just a few limitations. To join me, I will ask that you and your guards make a soul pact that verifies that you are coming to learn alchemy and get stronger, and not to collect information to harm me or conquer the forest. To that end, the soul pact will also prohibit you from disclosing significant information that can have a serious impact on me or the forest, as it pertains to me."

"Absolutely not," her father said.

"Wait…" Felio said quickly. "It also says: This pact wouldn’t prevent you from disclosing what you did or how I lived or my daily habits. It also wouldn’t stop you from speaking about the way I survive or tips for doing so. This soul pact is designed to ensure you and your guards coming here in goodwill with the intention of studying alchemy at the time of your visit, and to prevent you from speaking on secrets you learn from me or as a direct result of you being with me. It’s therefore provisional and doesn’t stop you from later resuming your activities. You would only be bound to secrets you learn during the trip. Considering that you are bound to be in such a position for the rest of time, it doesn’t seem like a bad deal, especially when considering the amount of wealth, power, and knowledge you can gain by coming here. So keep that in mind."

Felio looked up nervously and found her mom glaring at her dad, who seemed reflective and thoughtful. He didn’t speak a word. He just rotated his hand to keep her reading.

"Right. Um… Right. She writes: Just know that the Melhan will likely try something shady, so I ask you to answer me at the Harvest itself, subject to the situation at that time. But beyond that, I’m reasonably certain that I can keep you and your guards alive with relative luxury next year. So please let your parents know how much value is here and extend my offer.

"Naturally, this offer extends to the following Harvest as well. Just consider it. Warm regards, Mira Hill."

Felio looked up at her father. "Well?"

"I’ll speak with your mother and my associates," her father said, turning to her mom. "Until then, you will continue on as usual. Trip or otherwise, you cannot push off marriage much longer."

Felio nodded and bowed. "Yes, father."

She wore a mask of obedience, but inside, she was roiling with ambition and hunger to leave and live and practice alchemy without the politics and marriages and strife. She desperately wanted to go—and she would do everything in her power to do so.

3.

I woke to the sound of symphony bugs in the darkness. They woke early in the summer, when the mornings were hot and humid, and there was nothing better to do than mate.

To my surprise, Reta was already up, checking the contents of the gravity pack I loaned her. It was much more functional than the massive pack she flew in like a reverse hot air balloon.

"You raring to go?" I asked quietly, waking the lurvine regardless.

"I’m ready," Reta said. "If that’s what you’re asking—yes."

I slowly pulled out a chair and sat down. "You think we’ll die?"

"Maybe," Reta said. "Just seeing isn’t enough."

I nodded and looked down. "Then let me write my family." She nodded and let me bleed my soul on the pages before transcribing it and sending it out. Then, I packed my backpack with empty preservation chambers, useful elixirs, Diktyo water, and my tent, sleeping bag, and stove and walked out into the morning air, where Kline was waiting, Sina and the lurvine behind him.

I smiled. "You guys ready for a hunt?"

Kline and the lurvine sent me hunter’s grins.

"Good," I said. "Then keep up."

I spread my wings and took to the air, flying west toward the Cable River, which would take us to Misty Row and, eventually, to Harlan’s Pillar, the landmark that would lead us to Aelium, the core of the Fifth Ring, where I would eventually plant Escala’s seed and gain entrance into the Fifth Domain.

Kline ran up the air beside me in my cat form, letting Reta hug and ride him. Kyro groaned and trailed from behind, complaining that I was a show off as Sina and the lurvine howled and rushed after us, sprinting in a pack—unwilling to be outdone.

Our next adventure had officially begun.