Ascendant

Skywort bloom, as it turned out, grew in significantly denser patches just under the waterfall where everything was wet and loud and extra difficult to get to. Nym resorted to a combination of flight and hydrokinesis just to get a look at the stuff, which looked like lichen studded with little flowers glistening with water drops.

Actually harvesting the blooms was a bit more complicated for two reasons. First, he didn’t have anywhere near the strength needed to divert the waterfall enough to get into the good, thick patches near the top of the cliff. Second, a flock of some sort of bird that Cern had not seen fit to mention nested on the cliffs and they were not happy about Nym’s intrusion.

The birds were small and not really life-threatening, but it was still hard to concentrate on two different spells at once when they were dive bombing him. Another layer of complication was that the best way to quickly harvest the skywort bloom was to dust off his old first circle telekinesis spell. There were other patches closer to the ground, but they were well known by herbalists out hunting for the same thing and nothing compared to the harvest Nym could take off the top of the cliffs, if he could manage three spells at the same time while fending off an angry flock of small birds.

That was easier said than done. Nym retreated from the waterfall to practice near the stream. There wasn’t anywhere to land, but holding his flight while he worked the other two spells was part of the training anyway. He floated in the air above the water and forged a second conduit to the first layer. That was something the returned memory had shown him how to do, but his three-year old self made it seem a lot easier than it actually was.

There were two main problems. First, it was much harder to hold open two conduits at once than it was to widen one conduit. Second, the arcana from the first layer didn’t like mixing with the arcana from the second layer. He initially thought he could just fill his soul well up half way with one type, then switch to a shallower conduit and fill it up the rest of the way.

That made him violently ill. Some poor unlucky fish got to swim through a cloud of his vomit as it drifted away in the water below him. Nym dry-heaved for a solid half an hour until he managed to drain his soul well again. That of course cost him his flight spell and he ended up soaking wet when he plunged into the stream.

He knew it was possible, but he couldn’t remember how he’d managed to both hold open two conduits and keep them from mixing arcana inside his soul well. If he wanted that big pay day waiting for him at the top of the waterfall, he needed to figure it out. The air cushions he used to fly were not delicate enough to harvest the skywort blooms, and even if he found a place to perch, he still needed to use a second circle hydrokinesis spell and the first circle telekinesis at the same time.

The hydrokinesis was the bulk of the drain on his arcana anyway. Flight was just to give him an angle to see what he was doing, and it was a lot easier to lift his own weight than to divert thousands of pounds of rushing water. When he’d first tried, he couldn’t move it at all. It was too heavy and too fast for him to alter. What he’d ended up doing was speeding up the water before it got to the fall so that it flew out farther than it normally would.

That was still a strain, but it was manageable for at least a few minutes. That and the flight spell together were pushing the limits. Nym wasn’t sure how he was going to mix in a telekinesis spell from the first layer. He wondered if it would be easier to figure out a new telekinesis spell that used second layer arcana. Surely there had to be a second circle version of it.

Nym hadn’t focused too hard on learning to do new things for a few reasons. First, he had no one to train him and no books to study from, so he was inventing everything from scratch. Second, he was still picking the low-hanging fruits of air and water manipulation. Third, there was a limit to his stamina that he was steadily expanding, but too slowly.

 He was determined to crack this problem though. He could see the skywort blooms, and if they weren’t the most valuable thing on Cern’s list, there were a lot of them right in front of him. They represented food, new clothes, shoes, and maybe, just maybe, some magical instruction. That was at the top of his list once basic necessities were met. All he had to do was figure out how to cast three spells at the same time, while fending off a flock of angry birds. Easy.

Eventually, Nym was forced to give up. It was getting dark and he needed to come back with something to cover the advance Cern had given him. Instead of the motherlode of skywort blooms, he scoured some of the easy-to reach ones that were near the waterfall, but high enough up that people who couldn’t fly didn’t want to bother climbing. He spotted a few other things that looked right, but Cern would have to be the one to determine that, and called it a day.

The flight back to Zoskan was short. He took a break just outside the forest to catch his breath, and then skimmed over the ground for another twenty minutes until he was close to the walls. It might have been meaningless to hide his magic from the guards, but he was operating under the assumption that if someone from Palmara came looking for him, the local guards would be their first stop.

So he walked the last quarter of a mile and this time was let in without any fuss since he was able to show that he’d been picking herbs and reagents in the forest to sell in town. There were some mutterings about him being too young to be in the forest unattended, but nobody stopped him. Nym worried they might block him from going back out next time.

The door to Cern’s shop was locked when he got there, but he could see the alchemist moving around inside the store cleaning. He knocked on the window and held up the backpack when Cern looked up at him and scowled. He strode over to the door and unlocked it.

“You’re late,” he said.

“Sorry.”

“Ah, whatever. What’d you find for me?”

Nym handed over the pack and Cern peered eagerly into it. “Hmm… let’s see. Bluecaps, good. A garnet root, just one? Too bad, I need four or five to do anything useful. A few skywort blooms, in good condition. Good. What is this?”

Cern held up a slab of bark covered in moss. Nym internally winced. He hadn’t been sure if he’d identified that right. “Shadar’s slab?” he asked.

“Not even close. The moss is too light and the texture needs to be smoother. It only grows on trees that have fed on arcana, which can be identified by the zig-zag pattern in the bark. This is garbage. The rest is good.” Cern considered for a few seconds. “Taking off the two bronze wedges you owe me, let’s say three shims and eight wedges. Eh, let’s call it four shims and I’ll just keep the pack. You can borrow it whenever you want to do another run.”

Nym found himself with four circles of copper pressed into his hands and was shooed out of the shop. “I recommend you spend two of those on a room at the Trough and Saddle. No one there will give you a hard time about being a kid, and if they do, you tell the owner. His name is Babkin and he’ll sort out any trouble right away. They’ll get you a hot meal, a bath, and a place to sleep. You need all three.”

Nym felt his cheeks flush. It had been close to a week since his last bath, not counting his dunk in the river. “Thanks for the advice,” he said.

As embarrassing as it was to be called out for smelling bad, Nym couldn’t deny it. He got directions and went straight to the Trough and Saddle. It was a sleepy little place at the north end of town near the fields, that catered primarily to farmers who had stopped for a drink. He went right up to the bar, where a reed-thin man with an equally thin mustache was filling a mug with beer.

“We don’t serve kids,” the man said, before Nym could say anything.

“Cern the Alchemist said I could get a room, a meal, and a bath for two shims,” Nym told him, placing the shims on the bar. “He also said to ask for Babkin if there was any trouble with that.”

The man huffed and shook his head. “I’ll go get him. Let me finish up here first.”

He poured two more beers and slid them over to the farmers sitting at the bar. Then he scooped up the shims, crossed the floor and disappeared through a door he closed behind him. Nym looked down at the counter where his money had been, then back up to where the man had disappeared.

“Um,” he said.

The guy on the seat next to him started laughing. “He’s not gonna run off and cheat you, son.”

A few minutes later, the man came back out and called Nym over. “Babkin wants to talk to you. He’s got your money. Just follow this hall to the end and go in.”

“Thank you,” Nym said.

The man waved him off and went back to work, leaving Nym to find his own way. There were doors every ten feet or so, with one at the end of the hall that led into an office. There, seated in a padded chair, was a wide man with a thick beard, spiky hair, and a pipe hanging out of his mouth. Everything about him seemed squished to be extra thick, from his arms to his fingers to his belly.

“You the kid Cern sent me?” he asked around the pipe.

“Yes, sir. I ran some errands for him and he recommended I come here for a room and, uh… a bath.” That last part was mumbled.

Babkin crinkled his nose and said, “Yes, I can tell. You are a paying customer now, so you are entitled to a bath, a meal, and a room for the night. We do not serve beer to children. Do not try to sneak any or I will evict you. If I catch you stealing, I will break your hands before I evict you. You eat in the common room tonight and a second meal for breakfast. You either clear your stuff from your room by noon or pay for another day.”

“I don’t have anything, sir,” Nym said.

Babkin’s expression softened a bit. “Of course you don’t,” he grumbled.

“Sorry, sir.”

Smoke rolled off the pipe as Babkin thought for a moment. He absently reached behind him and pulled a key off a peg on the wall. With a glance down at it, he handed it over. “Room closest to the kitchen’s yours. Stay out of the kitchen. Don’t go in there begging for scraps. Cookie’s got a soft heart.”

“I understand.”

“Good enough,” Babkin said. “I will send someone to your room with the tub soon.”

Nym left the office and found his room easy enough. Being that close to the kitchen let him smell everything being prepared, and it was maddening. He barely stayed in the room long enough to confirm the key opened the door and that there was a bed before he was back out in the common room and sitting at the bar before the reedy man.

“I thought I told you we don’t serve kids,” the man said.

“Can I get my meal?” Nym asked with a grin.