Wraithwood Botanist

Congratulations! Scion Mira Hill has met the conditions to be promoted from Level 32 to Level 33. You’ve leveled up!

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Free Request | Grade: Epic

Description: In case you thought I ignored your actions prior to the Harvest—I haven’t. The Oracle’s been grumpy that her attempts to witness these alleged deeds have been blocked by magic, so she has held off on making judgments, instead categorizing everything into a single concept: the promise of guardianship.

From brokering deals with guardians, guards, and Drokai to conquering crypts and obtaining sketchy, unknown seeds in the Bramble, you have, somehow—by virtue of the simple fact that everyone around you says so—earned the respect of the forest. This is a first since the standardization of Oracle chips and perhaps since the days of Brindle and Yakana.

Congratulations.

-

"Wow… that’s satisfying," I said. "It’s also… strange. I wonder how much it’s seen…"

My conversations with Brindle were encrypted by virtue of patron god privilege, and the voices of Yakana and Emael occurred within my subconscious, where the Oracle couldn’t record them. And Serenflora, the crypt, Brindle’s soul garden, and The Briar were all cloaked in anti-guide magic.

That meant that the Oracle was indeed blind. Most of what happened was alleged through afterthoughts and conversations with Kyro, Thorvel, Aiden, and Halten when spoken aloud. It was kinda relieving to read that.

I wonder if Lithco had to argue my case to the Oracle… I thought.

"I did."

I jumped when Lithco melted through the tree’s walls like a ghost, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

"Who welcomed you into my home?" I cried.

"Seriously?" Lithco asked. "Seconds from singing my praises, now banishing me like a Hollywood vampire? You’d benefit from some consistency, you know that?"

My cheek twitched. "Why can’t you let me appreciate you in silence?"

"Because people thrive on praise."

"You can hear my thoughts."

"When you share them. And it’s not the same thing."

My shoulders slumped.

"I’m waiting," Lithco said, turning his palms up.

"Thank~you," I sassed. Then I paused and looked away. "Seriously, thank you."

"Was it really that hard?"

"You’re sounding like Hadrian."

"You asked me to be like this; it seems that you have a thing for it."

I blushed furiously and looked away. "Say that again, and I’ll never let you hear a thought I say again."

"Just an observation." He then smiled at me mysteriously.

"What?" I asked hotly.

"Well? I had a pretty little present delivered. Don’t you want to open it?"

I quickly fished through my backpack and pulled out the box. It was a white cube the size of a ring box, tattooed with intricate arrays woven together like black lace.

My eyes trembled just looking at it. "This is the…"

"Soul Guardian," Lithco said. "Let’s open it."

I nodded. "Okay."

"Then repeat after me." Lithco chanted as I echoed his words, refusing to close my eyes out of fear I would miss something.

A magic glow lit up the arrays, slowly, filling the black lines with golds and blues and greens like dry canals being flooded with water. Then I heard a click, and the box separated from the top down, like a peeling orange, revealing a smaller box with a simple ring inside. It had a clear stone on the end.

"This… is it?" I muttered.

"No," Lithco said. "The guardian’s inside. The ring’s just to prevent you from dropping it during the summoning ritual."

"Oh…"

"Put it on. On your index."

I rolled my fingers over the smooth silver band and slid it on, finding it fit snugly—designed for me. Once on my finger, I felt something pulling on my soul.

"Soul Guardians are an extension of your mind and soul," Lithco said. "Once you summon this guardian, it will link to you, and you will be able to manifest your aura directly, borrowing her body, or letting her fight independently beside you."

"Whoa…" I whispered.

"Summoning her is just like any other chant ritual, but you’re special," Lithco continued. "Soul guardians utilize psychomancy, a form of soulmancy. Since you’re naturally more knowledgeable in this area than your average demigod, we’ll use a seventh tier summoning ritual."

Delusions of grandeur swam in my mind, and I found myself wondering if I would have some superpower that could punch Hadrian’s teeth in if necessary.

But I tried to roll it back.

All I had was advantages; experience taught me that I was useless outside of traps and guile.

"It seems you’re learning," Lithco said with an amused smile.

I turned away and rubbed the ring with my thumb. "So? What do we need?"

"We’ll start by creating a soul well," Lithco said, pulling out the container with the rest of my soul cores. There were still around fifty. "If you didn’t learn from Kyro’s hands, these are too potent in their raw form, and most people would struggle just to touch them, let alone activate them. Therefore, you’ll need to create an extract that allows you to drink the aura."

I immediately thought about dumping half my soul cores into the crypt’s pond.

"Seems you already know," Lithco said.

"That creeps me out," I said. "I should block my thoughts."

Lithco scoffed. "Have you forgotten that I’m teaching you something right now? I swear, you’re so worried the Oracle is trying to conquer the forest that you’ve lost all respect for its value."

"It’s hard to trust anything that’s actively using me," I said.

"You shouldn’t trust her," Lithco said. "She’s obviously trying to use you, but that’s against the point. You’re using each other, and if you ask me, you’re getting the better deal. Not only are you being given the most lavish privileges and opportunities I’ve ever seen, but you’re also not being barred from countering her efforts. Sure, you may get penalized for suppressing your thoughts, but it’s a small price. And your privacy request really put a gear into her pants. That request is binding, so she’s had to get real creative in getting what she wants."

"And what does she want?" I asked.

"To learn the secrets of the forest, obviously," Lithco said. "Whether she gets it by turning you into a god or using your data a century after your death’s irrelevant."

I ran my fingers through my hair and stopped at the top, finding myself strangely… relieved to get confirmation of the Oracle’s motives and that my diamond request truly was binding. I was suddenly considering seeing what an epic request would do.

I sighed in frustration. "How do you make a soul well?" I asked, switching the subject.

Lithco shrugged. "Mix them with a bowl of Diktyo Water and then extract the aura and neara into it, blending it to stabilize the neara, just like you would making an elixir. That’s all. After that, you can drink it as necessary."

I hesitantly nodded. "Okay." I poured some cores into a bowl of water.

"Save ten," Lithco said. "You’ll want them for soul elixirs later on."

I held back, filling the bowl with about forty, then set up my ward, preparing for a long grind. Once finished, I followed his steps to create the soul well, an intense undertaking. There were forty cores, and I ended up grinding for six hours before falling unconscious, and then waking up for another twelve-hour shift. This continued on for three days and nights until I finished on the fourth, shivering from the chilling wind as I resolved myself to begin.

The soul well was intimidating when it was all said and done. It glowed bright white under my Soul Sight, and it created a suffocating pressure in the room that routinely freckled my arms with goosebumps.

"Rest up," Lithco said. "This will be the most challenging experience of your life."

I heeded his warning and slept, preparing myself for pain and suffering as I drifted to sleep.

The next morning I skipped breakfast, cleansing my body with Diktyo water and meditating. Then I summoned Lithco before my witches brew of blended soul aura.

"Take the lead," I said.

2.

To Elana’s ever-increasing annoyance, Kori kicked up his feet on Elana’s table and pulled out a different flavor of poison he bought off Hapsel, who was increasingly bitter and thus increasing the potency. Still, she kept inviting the half-demon to every major event for reasons that she still struggled to admit to herself.

"This’ll be good," Kori said as Mira began threading upon Lithco’s suggestions. "Ten to one she doesn’t follow instructions."

"Oh, she’ll follow instructions," Elana said. "The question is: whose instructions?"

"You think Yakana will come out?"

"Doubt it."

"Then who?"

"Brindle."

He turned to her. "How does that make sense? Brindle hasn’t made contact with her since his decision, right?"

"Correct. But don’t forget what he sent her. It’s an entity capable of capturing memories and thinking independently. Gods know what that thing loaded into her guardian."

"Wait… you’re saying…"

Mira’s body suddenly glowed with bright white light, and Lithco began yelling and snapping his fingers in front of her before telling Kline to back off.

"Told you," Elana said.

"Huh…" Kori popped the cork of the poison bottle. "This’ll be interesting."

3.

Something went wrong when I summoned my guardian. I had followed his chants and watched, through Soul Vision beyond my eyelids, as a faceless mannequin snaked out of the ring like a cobra from a basket.

It was terrifying thinking that I would be assimilating with that soulless puppet, the literal makings of a horror movie. Yet I was compelled to continue, so I extracted her further and opened up my core to accept her, but then I lost control of her and she walked up alone, grabbed my shoulders with icy hands, and then put her forehead against mine.

Before I could scream, my whole vision went white, and when color and shadows returned to the world, I found myself in the most beautiful forest I had ever seen.

Or perhaps it was a garden.

There were white trees with pink leaves and vines that wrapped around trees like anacondas, blooming flowers like morning glories in a dozen colors per vine, like serpentine rainbows.

That was just one sight. There were plants of every shape, color, and description, wondrous and alien, even by Areswood standards. Even the grass was fantastic. It felt holographic, turning gradients of green and orange as a light breeze combed through it.

It was the Christian’s Garden of Eden—the Elysian Fields of ancient Greece.

"Welcome to the Ethereal Gardens," Brindle said. I whirled around and found him sitting on a throne of roots. He was still wearing his normal cloak, but his antlers felt regal, like a crown, and the dryad wrapped around his body from the tree made him look like a man. "This is my home."