"Lavendar" is a Legend of Zelda AU centered around pre-Minish Cap Vaati.
After an accident, Vaati awakens with a second set of foreign memories swirling in his head. Incredibly confused, he tries his best to integrate or toss experiences with...mixed results.
With the memories of a dead human who had never even heard of the words "Legend of Zelda", he gains no foresight into his fate. His ambition remains, a desire for magical power sings in his bones, but everything else? How will a middle-aged human's experiences affect a Minish who wishes for more than his lot in life? Who wishes to be perfect?
Updates will be sporadic and likely written like a stream of consciousness. No beta.
(Why Lavender?)
No serious reason. Vaati is just associated with the color.
In the days leading up to the first of winter, I was sent out more and more often to the surrounding villages. Whether for last minute supplies or deliveries, I took every outing without complaint. How could I, when the time away afforded me ample opportunity to practice?
With the ruby bracelet stowed away in my pocket, I flooded my veins with ice. Hebra's Breath was an odd spell, similar to Din's Fire in some ways but vastly different in execution. Whereas Din's Fire required concentrating heat in one place until fire sprang to life, Hebra's Breath required that coldness be condensed just long enough to form icicles in the air before allowing the sphere to explode outwards from the caster. Proper allocation of the cooling charm would ensure the ice cold air rushed past an equally chilly layer of protection.
Using fire-based magic instead to resist the freezing temperatures seemed like a more rational choice, of course, but the book I found the spell in blatantly discouraged the practice, as the opposing energies would clash and degrade the overall effectiveness of the spell. That was aside from the obvious issues of attempting to hold two spells active at once, even if one was lesser than the other. It was possible, of course, though usually only displayed by more experienced magic users.
Taller magic users, specifically. Minish typically didn’t possess the capacity to do more than one spell at a time.
The ice in my veins traveled to my hands, cupped as if holding a crystal ball. With my fingers visibly beginning to frost over, I focused on pushing the feeling out without fully letting go of the magic. Rather like tethering an orb of water from multiple points with even more water. An utterly nonsensical comparison that nevertheless felt right.
My arms shuddered between chilling numbness and defrosting warmth as the stream of ice magic ebbed in bursts.
I refused to remain a typical Minish!
Between shaking hands the magic gathered.
The air shuddered, gaining a slight blue shine.
Then the spell fell apart.
I was left half-frozen, back bent, while motes of white faded from my hands.
Again.
Again! Of all the steps to fail on, it was channeling the magic itself! It was utterly disgraceful! I, a Sage's apprentice, faltering at such a common practice was an offense to every last fiber of my being! I used magic every day, whether brewing potions, enchanting jewelry, or casting charms. Moving around warm or frigid energy shouldn't have been too different from casting either charm!
I must have been missing some crucial point, obviously. Master Ezlo's spell tomes already skipped the most basic of information while describing how to cast advanced spells. Whatever it was that was thwarting my attempts was either in a small book no common folk would have access to, or would be overcome through sheer effort.
I shuddered, my teeth beginning to chatter. A quick casting of the heating charm chased away most of the bitter cold. A second left only a faint impression of the chill that had nestled close to my bones.
How strange... The warmth was lesser than in previous castings... Some chill lingered on my face when it shouldn't have. How could that be? The charm had always been successful! There was no cause for it to suddenly weaken. Unless...
No. No, that made no sense! A caster's ability to use magic was not dependent on the season. That myth had long been debunked by scholars before even Master Ezlo's time. Ambient magic could be at fault, though not enough was concentrated in any one area nearby to weaken such a simple casting. If there were, the impact felt would be much greater.
The grass on either side of the trail rustled as I marched under frail fallen leaves. The weather perhaps? A sweltering summer's day had been known to empower fire spells, and a good storm would give the same caster difficulty in keeping a single flame going.
However, it was not yet cold enough out to prove a detriment to a mere charm. Not that it should have in the first place. The charm was for internal use, not external, so the weather should not have been a factor in its effectiveness at all.
Which meant that the issue was, instead, internal.
A third application of the heating charm dispersed the last of the clinging chill. Turning over my hands, I noted the lack of any prickling or stinging from the intense ice magic. Three full casts to return to comfort, then, the effects of my failure completely erased.
This...complicated matters. Drastically.
I had already deduced that a lower internal temperature was necessary for casting Hebra's Breath. An unfortunate point of fact that required regulating my internal temperature between castings to keep from freezing.
And now, to my immense displeasure, my method of recovery was taking much more effort in order to reach a comfortable state.
Hebra's Breath hadn't even been properly cast yet, and already it was so potent. As thrilling as the notion would normally be, my current approach made pursuing the spell to completion unsustainable. What was I to do, then? Coat myself in an icy buffer while focusing? Surely, I wasn't expected to freeze myself to death while gathering magic!
I ran my hands down my face, suppressing the urge to sigh. Yet another gap in my knowledge to fill. As expected, if mildly exasperating.
Between this and Din's Fire, it was as if whoever penned those instructions assumed that the reader would inherently know how to utilize the associated elemental magic efficiently and without question. The only reason I even realized that Din's Fire required the heating charm was an archaic line about a "cloak in summer's breath", a line repeated in a tome about the history of magic regarding a way to warm oneself.
Utterly ridiculous. Why even bother to share how a spell worked if the whole process was needlessly vague or poetic? Ugh.
By the time the village came into view, the ruby bracelet was around my wrist once more. As much as the thought rankled me, practicing Hebra's Breath would have to be reserved for spring. Summer at worst.
Din's Fire would be far easier to endure in the interim anyways.
Like most villages distanced from major towns and cities, this one was generally quiet with a few Minish...a few people hauling goods home or otherwise busy with last minute preparations for winter. One elderly woman was busy knitting a heavy looking blanket outside her door, the finished end folded over itself neatly at her feet.
My destination was the small shop near the center of the village, where the message board was nailed up. Most of the flyers present were made up of advertisements disguised as children's drawings interspersed with notices about the upcoming dangers of traveling during the winter.
One would think that such warnings would be redundant. They were. They were also, unfortunately, necessary. Every year there was some fool or other who set out without considering what a snowfall for people our size really meant. Usually, it was some town or city folk who grew up swaddled within the comfort and safety such places provided. Other times a rural or isolated Minish needed to brave the harsh weather for their own reasons. Regardless, it was just as much a precaution as it was tradition, and not one that needed to be torn to ribbons due to outdated conceptions.
The inside of the shop was as expected: half-barren, with shelves emptied of grains, beans, and other long-lasting foods. It was also quiet, only the soft snoring of the shopkeeper able to be heard. He laid slumped over the counter, head buried in his crossed arms. By the unruly brown hair sticking out from his hat, this was the actual shopkeeper's son.
His name escaped me. He had introduced himself to me a few years back, though, during my first errand runs for Master Ezlo. What was it again? Ernest? Riley? William?
...Regrets were for people who had time to waste. I approached the counter and grabbed the boy by the shoulder.
"Wake up." I repeated my demand, roughly shaking him. "Wake up!"
The teenager merely mumbled into his arms.
Unbelievable.
"Wake up!"
The boy immediately shot up into wakefulness. "Huh?! What, what, I'm awake! I'm awake!" Blinking several times, he shook off the last dregs of slumber and smiled. "Oh! Hey, Vaati! I see you're as grumpy as ever. I'm guessing you're here to barter?"
"Yeah -- uh, I mean, yes!"
My cheeks burned as he chuckled. "You sound like my grandpa." The nerve of this insolent--! No. No... That was how he always was. Dealing with...this boy was practically customary at this point, the banter part and parcel for visiting this specific village.
Instead of falling into the juvenile trap of name calling, however, I chose to be the mature one here. Chin tilted up, I sniffed. "I am cultivating my vocabulary to match my future career, unlike some people."
He scoffed, waving me off. "Yeah, sure, sure, old man," he said dismissively. Though there was no heat to it.
Straightening my spine, I hooked my arms behind me back. "Humph. You'll see. I'll be a sage sooner than you can say..." I paused for a second. A simple ending wouldn't do, not for this. It needed to imply a lengthy endeavor...one difficult in execution, as well... A smirk crossed my face. Ah, perfect. "Memori's History of Magic!"
"Memori's History of Magic," he repeated. My grin fell. He had the gall to snicker. Snicker! That tome was difficult to locate even for normal people! "Let me get the box from the back."
A small growl escaped me as he turned and walked into the back room. I was a professional, however, so despite my completely reasonable irritation, I allowed my pack fall from my shoulders and set about unloading its contents onto the counter. Two dozen red medicines in tiny jars, three ruby bracelets cast in a dim verdant glow, and five sets of earmuffs charmed for increased insulation. A similar package was set for a northern village once I returned to Master Ezlo's home. That one included some magic restoration potions and a special "gold" potion. Supposedly it was as good as a blue potion, only with a completely different taste.
Before long, the boy had returned with a hefty looking crate and set it down on the ground with a grunt. "There we go. Beans, vegetables, and some weird-smelling herb."
I huffed, beginning to stow everything away into the pack. The sturdier roots would have to be first. "Let me guess," I groused. "It's good for the joints."
"Close!" He smiled, as if letting me in on a secret. "It's supposed to soothe the throat."
I paused, then met his bright hazel gaze with mine. "...In what world is that close?"
He shrugged carelessly, still smiling. "Ours, of course." After a small moment more of staring, he started checking over master's goods. Not that he needed to, of course, it was Master Ezlo, but any merchant worth their salt would have been a fool not to inspect their half of a bargain.
Glass clinked together as he whistled. "No wonder dad kept some of the good stuff back! These'll help us out a lot! 'Specially the earmuffs, I can't stand going outside in the cold!"
"Yes, yes," I sighed. Beans then grain were stacked next. "Master Ezlo's enchantments are second to none."
"These are enchanted?!"
The urge to roll my eyes was strong. How could he not see it? How could he not sense it? The slight green glow was clear as day as were the runes carefully sewn into the insides. "Yes. They will provide additional insulation." I flipped down the top of the pack, and tied it shut. "Thank you for ordering from Sage Ezlo, good tidings to you and yours." My hasty farewell given, I carefully swung the pack back onto my shoulders. With more than half my weight to carry back, there was no chance of having some proper lunch at master's home before setting off again.
Some dried strawberry would have to do, then.
"You, too!" He waved me off as I trudged towards the door. "See ya, Vaati!"
"Future Sage Vaati!" I called back.
"Whatever, old man!"
"I'm younger than you!"
"Going senile already."
"Don't make me come back here!"
His laughter followed me out the door, silenced as it swung shut behind me.
Then it was quiet again. The few adults from before had moved inside, save for the elderly woman knitting her blanket. A breeze blew through the village, briefly padding my ears as I returned to the trail.
Rain already? The timing couldn't be worse! Marching quickly, I calculated a rough estimate for when I would arrive at Master Ezlo's. Three and a half hours if I hurried. More if I slowed down.
The day wasn't even half over, and exhaustion was settling in. My progress with Hebra's Breath had hit a wall, there were no clues as to how to solve my problem in a manner that wouldn't kill me, I'd embarrassed myself multiple times in a handful of minutes, and Din's Fire would need to be shelved soon for however long the rains lasted.
Between blinks, the bright sunlight streaming through the window grew dimmer. Then dimmer still.
Master Ezlo had excused me from the afternoon's chores, true. Although he hadn't said anything about the evening.
Did he expect me to perform my usual nightly duties? Surely, if he did, he would have said as much when he brought in lunch.
Though, the very same could be said for neglecting them entirely.
Which assumption was better? Which was worse?
Even after nearly a full day of rest, my body still ached. The pain, he said, would abate by morning. There were no shortcuts, no enchanted baubles that would enable me to return to my lessons sooner. Potions especially would be of no use in my recovery. Instead, I had to allow the excess magic to run its course and naturally purge itself from my system.
And yet, my apprenticeship... Never before had I ever imagined that Master Ezlo's offer could be retracted. He was the master. I was his pupil. A simple arrangement that I ignorantly believed would exist until he either acknowledged me as an equal, or I learned enough to establish myself as an accomplished craftsman. To otherwise give in and quit under any excuse before making that dream a reality was inconceivable.
Because Minish were kind. Minish were accommodating. Minish were selfless and giving to a fault. As such, spurning one's honest perseverance was unthinkable.
For most.
As enchanted by humanity as Master Ezlo was, as highly as he regarded them, he still shared in their faults. Not that he recognized them in himself. If he ever would... He was as blind to his shortcomings as I-he-I once was.
Modesty was a myth; his talents were to be exalted. He grew impatient at perceived laziness, yet slept away most afternoons. He dismissed other’s pain, and bemoaned his own. The accomplishments of others only existed due to his aid, whether or not he lent a hand. To constantly seek his wisdom and ask 'why' meant becoming a burden.
Yes, he made mistakes. I did not expect him to be infallible, but I did expect him to treat me with some measure of respect. Eventually.
Didn't I deserve that much?
Logically, I knew herb-girl’s memories were to blame for tainting my perception. She lived in a completely different land with harsher rules and expectations placed upon its people. To be more, do more, all at the expense of oneself. Kindness struggled where greed succeeded. The exploitation of other’s willingness to take on further burdens was commonplace. Control of one’s future required not only an investment of time, but enough money as to be absurd.
With those acidic reflections, how could I not look at the world around me and not second guess at the intentions of others? How could I resist doubt as it burrowed its way into my-his-her-my chest?
So, yes, placing the burden of blame upon herb-girl would be easy.
But not entirely accurate.
After all, I’d heard stories and read anecdotes brought back from the Human World. I had experienced the contradictions between the ideal and the reality of our culture. Herb-girl’s memories only confirmed what I’d already suspected.
Humans could not be trusted. Especially not the ones in power. Not that other, lower positions were free from corruption. On the contrary, such malice existed in every post, and the further up one climbed in authority, the more wretched and wicked humans became.
It seemed almost ridiculous that Minish as a whole would not behave similarly, with how much our lives revolved around them, but the very nature of our kind meant we were less inclined to be...insincere, I supposed. For what that was worth... More gullible, certainly, as removed from humans as we were.
Unfortunately for all, none were more so foolish than my master.
His plan to give unrestricted magical power to the damn king nearly made me bite my own tongue off! The utter lunacy on display was maddening! Whether blinded by fanaticism or willingly ignorant, it mattered not. Whether I spoke the truth or brought up those anecdotes, it mattered not! He would not listen! Merely a few bad apples, he insisted. The light of wisdom shined brightly in the royal family, he claimed.
Pah!
He would fawn over humans, their deeds, their ingenuity, and their advancements... They could do no wrong in his eyes.
Because he loved them.
It was everybody else in his life who could not measure up.
Especially myself. His apprentice.
Three years. Three years I labored under Master Ezlo’s instruction, and it never seemed to be enough. He set standards, and I strove to meet them. Any tasks he assigned were completed. Whether studying a new tome from his library, determining the best areas to find certain ingredients, or memorizing whatever wisdom he would choose to impart, I did so to the best of my abilities.
Every day, Vaati-I pushed myself a little further, under the notion that my efforts would be recognized in time. That one day Master Ezlo would look upon me and see more than the pathetically weak boy who once shook berries down from a bush.
But no. All of my effort, all of it, was always ‘good’, never ‘great’. Never ‘resourceful’ or ‘incredible’. My curiosity to know more was condemned as 'childish' or 'troublesome'. My best work may as well have been mediocre!
What did I have to do to be better in his eyes?!
Hurk!
I swallowed thickly, the bitter-sour aftertaste of stamina potion on my tongue.
Wearily, my gaze wandered over to my bedroom door. It bathed in the dwindling light of dusk.
...If I continued to lie in bed and allow myself to rest, Master Ezlo would either accept that I required more time to heal, or he would admonish me for not making the assumption that I was excused from my tasks tonight.
My eyelids grew heavier as I struggled to remain awake. I could already hear the mutterings of 'lazy boy'...
...There had never really been a choice.
Inch by inch, I dragged myself from bed, legs unsteady as I stood up. It was as if my bones had become chuchu jelly, threatening to collapse under my own weight.
My stomach lurched. Hand against the wall, I willed my body to stop rebelling for one moment. For one mere moment. Then one more. Enough to reach the kitchen. Enough to be useful and do what was expected of me.
If Master Ezlo expected me to work while my body still ached, then I would. I would loathe him for every second I spent out of bed, but I would cook. I would clean. I would ensure the kitchen was spotless before returning to bed.
Slowly but surely, I made my way out of my room and towards the kitchen. My robes dragged along the floor as I shuffled.
Halfway across the living room, the scent of onions and garlic filled the air. Urr...
Even if Master Ezlo was preparing dinner, that was not reason enough to trudge back.
'Lazy boy', 'lazy boy', 'lazy boy', why was catching ones breath considered so shameful?
At the entrance to the kitchen, I gripped the doorway. My legs threatened to wobble again.
He was here, stirring the pot as steam rose from whatever he had chosen for dinner.
"Master Ezlo?" I winced at the weakness in my voice, even as he turned around.
"Vaati?" he asked, surprised. "What on earth are doing out of bed? Go back to your room, I'll bring in a bowl of soup for you soon."
I shook my head. "You said I didn't have afternoon chores."
"Yes, and I also said for you to rest! Honestly, kids these days..." He rolled his eyes and tapped the ladle on the pot's lip, placing it aside.
"...Does that mean I shouldn't wash dishes, either?" I checked.
"Of course!" he answered, as if it were the most obvious conclusion. He placed a lid on the pot, then glanced at the clock. "What a reckless boy you are," he muttered. "If I'd known you would overdo it, I wouldn't have given you a full bottle of stamina potion!" Master Ezlo took up his staff and approached me. "Now, let's get you off to bed."
Hand on my shoulder, he turned me back around and began walking with me.
"Didn't know," I mumbled. Everything hurt. "'M sorry, master."
"Didn't know? Didn't know?! Everyone knows about the dangers of the overconsumption of potions!"
"Never saw it b'fore." Wait. No, perhaps at that one shop? It was covered over in ads though...
"Never saw..." He slowed somewhat, allowing me a chance to steady my legs. "Boy, where in the world have you been to never see a dosage chart? They hang one up in every village!"
"Not mine."
My heart froze. I hadn't meant it. I hadn't.
"...You never did say where you came from," he muttered.
And I wasn't supposed to. It was my village, my past. Leaving was supposed to have given me a clean slate!
"We're..." The word slipped out, a weak croak that brought heat to my face. Regardless, I had to finish the thought, or else seem a fool. "Far away. Very far away."
"Hmm. I suppose a settlement beyond the usual trade hubs might be lacking in basic sense," he said, more to himself. Then, he added: "What...was your village like?"
The door to my room was opened, and I stumbled inside. The question spun as a wheel with splintered spokes in my mind. Yet an answer was required of me.
Though how much lower could I possibly seem to his eyes?
"We were..." A community? Out of the way? Small? Uneducated? "...heavily isolated."
There. A perfectly fine answer that would not cast my past into a shameful light.
Master Ezlo only hummed behind me.
"Starting tomorrow," he said, softer, "We'll be going over standard dosages medicines. Don't worry about the rest of the stamina potion. I'll handle it."
In seconds, I collapsed into bed. The mat was a blessed thing, my legs finally given rest.
"Yes, master..." I mumbled.
Sleep claimed me for a spell before Master Ezlo returned with dinner. I couldn't eat much, but he promised to save the rest with a minor preservation spell.
Outside, the sun finally set and I drifted into a fitful sleep.
Din's Domain - Basically when it's hot out. The warmer it is, the more present/powerful Din's Domain is. Very simple. Associated with fire and earth.
Nayru's Law - Flows through the world. Gets muddied with Farore's Law due to the underlying life/existence theme. Associated with water and time.
Farore's Law - Life itself, can be attributed to anything teeming with life. It's easier to separate these Laws by going "if it's not life itself, it falls under Nayru". Associated with wind and healing.
Learning Spells
It must be odd seeing how many hoops Vaati has to jump through to learn something like Din's Fire, when in the games you learn a spell once and you're good.
Hylians can just Do That since they're innately good at casting magic, doubly so for the Chosens, but everybody else? No, they normally have to start at the bottom and work their way up.
The progression of heating charm -> ?? -> Din"s Fire is because you need to be able to use what you learned from the charm to keep Din's Fire from burning your face off. Similar reasons apply to Hebra's Breath. There's probably a shortcut in there that allows the magic to harmless wash over the user, although that's probably either something granted by Great Fairies or a trick that more experienced magic users keep close to the chest.
Enchanting and Potions
This system is being partially borrowed from Intertwined, in that you do not need to chant, sing songs, or have a spell rhyme to cast magic. Simple commands such as "heal the ill" or "prevent decay, delay the end" work as well as a long-winded verse. Sometimes for the better.
For enchantments, the caster's intent is what matters most. You are not crafting something that won't last a year, you are casting a spell made to last much, much longer. It is a part of yourself, in a sense, that is being imparted to the object of choice.
(Yes, the same principle could apply to cursed objects, shh.)
Commands are also used for potions, although intent doesn't matter as much. No, Vaati didn't use one for his potion, yes that's probably one of the factors for why it was so awful.
For both of these types of magic, humming or whistling could work instead if the right tune is used.
Yellowed blades rustled. They bent and creaked with a crick crack snap as a creature trampled through them. It didn't snort. It didn't shuffle. If it possessed more than two legs, then the constant disturbance hid them.
More blades crackled, crushed together into the dirt.
I couldn't see it. Something was out there, and I couldn't see it! I didn't want to, it would see me, but I needed to know where it was!
The curled leaf I hid under shifted gently. A brittle sanctuary that would give under the slightest weight. As it had already. Fragments of decay littered the ground.
Snap.
Stay still, stay still, it wouldn’t see you, wouldn’t hear you if you stayed still.
I had walked too far for too long. Nothing was recognizable. Nothing smelled right. Nothing sounded right. The forest was too quiet, too dark for this time of day. Twigs were a little less frail here, the grass cooler to the touch. It was as if winter's reach had been stymied this deep into the woods. Or at least, diminished.
A faint breeze swept through. My claws dug into the leaf's stem, for how little my weight would matter.
If it overturned, I would be exposed. If I were exposed, then it would see me.
Breathe, breathe, slowly, steady.
The breeze left. My shelter had barely stirred. My claws remained buried.
Somewhere out there sat my pack, abandoned as I dove for cover. It was too heavy, packed with twigs and dried fruits and enough water to last the day. Too unimportant when something larger moved just out of sight.
Quieter, breathe quieter.
Grass rustled a little further away. Away from the deadened patch. Though not enough. Never enough.
My claws finally released the leaf stem, slipping through crumbling foliage.
Quieter quieter quieter!
But my breathing was as a pounding drum to my ears. Loud enough to be heard by anything tromping about, seeking a little snack.
I swallowed, ears straining to locate the...creature. Wherever it was.
How distracted I'd been. How foolish! Between my plans and my duties and keeping up my facade of a perfectly compliant pupil, I had forgotten one of the most important lessons taught to every child.
While the Human Realm was full of creatures that would devour a Minish, so, too, did our Realm.
My heart clambered up my throat. Too close, too close, it needed to leave, it needed to leave!
I waited, crouched beneath the fragile leaf, eyeing the sliver of the wavering grass from underneath.
Waiting and waiting, until...
Slowly.
Ever so slowly...
The rustling finally grew fainter.
It was still within hearing range. At any time, it could easily return if it so chose. If it had any cause at all to stalk this way.
Listen, breathe, listen.
Remaining out of sight had it's merits. It was preferable, even. The creature would eventually depart entirely. At which point, I would be safe to abscond back to master's home.
And yet... I required my pack before then. Without food and water, the trek back would be more arduous. There was a river several hours' walk from here, true. Yet, that would require a detour and safety would not be guaranteed as night fell.
...My pack wasn't too far. I needed only a moment, even half of one, to reclaim it.
Breathe...
Crouching lower, closer to the dampened earth, I crept towards the edge of the leaf. There it lied, with the bundle of twigs undone, dyed green to blend in with the underbrush.
Very much unlike my preferred robes.
Grass softly rustled nearer the trees.
...No point in delaying the inevitable.
Pulse in my throat, I took a step beyond the shadow--
Spiders waited in silence!
The thought struck like lightning. I immediately ducked back down, away from the light. No. If I was going to move, it had be intelligently. There would be no second chances if I made a mistake. The creature lurking out of sight could just as easily be a beetle as much as a skulltula.
There was a saying about making assumptions. In this case, however, it was better to make one rather than running blindly out into the open and being eaten!
Slower, slower, calm your heart before something hears it!
Swallowing thickly, I crept back further into the shade. Right. Yes... Steadying myself was paramount. Panicking would get me nowhere.
Order. I required order.
The first matter that requiring addressing: my belongings. Retrieval was essential. That was a fact. The second matter: returning to Master Ezlo's house. To accomplish both... To ensure no soul could seize me...
Well. I did still have some of that revolting stamina potion remaining... Urr...
My hand rested on the bag tied to my hip. Between either putting my pack down every few hours to retrieve the foul potion or having the concoction readily on hand, only one method stayed my hand more often.
Ugh... Dear Three, have mercy, this was going to be a trial of spirit and mettle both.
Uncorking the stamina potion, I braced myself. Despite knowing it had no effect.
One sip and I slammed my sleeve into my mouth to muffle my regrets. Urk! Thick as honey, sweeter than a mouthful of sugar, and as bitter as overcooked brussels sprouts. But I swallowed anyways, because the alternative was waiting all day and night in cowardice.
Time was short. My options were even shorter. Some suffering was worthwhile if I could only make it back to my room.
Energy surged down my limbs. Even my sight seemed to improve some, picking out pebbles in the tall grass that I had missed at first.
If my awareness had improved as well, all the better. That would only prove a boon for the trip back. Creeping to the edge of the leaf, I tilted my head and listened.
A moment passed. Then a second. When the rustling remained away, I leapt for my pack. In a handful of seconds, I had my pack shut and the bundle of twigs tied tightly together on top.
Then, I ran.
Slower, quieter!
No. I refused to allow some loathsome creature the opportunity of an ambush! There were other leaves, larger ones I crouched under for brief respites before taking another foul sip and sprinting for the next.
A full bottle normally gave several hours worth of endurance. In small mouthfuls, the brew gave minutes at best. There was no doubt in my mind that quaffing the potion would leave me ill, though.
Thus, slowly and eternally suffering while sprinting from shelter to shelter.
Deadened grass rustled.
Under bits of shattered leaf, I stilled. Legs trampled over green and yellow.
More than two.
A beetle, at best. Death, at worst.
I bided my time. Allowed the creature to wander. Willed my heart back into its cage.
When the world was quieter, I moved.
Until it wasn't anymore. Then I listened. I breathed, slow and steady despite the heightening tension in my limbs. Then, when the creatures treaded further than I could know, I continued.
That was my existence for uncountable hours. A sip, a respite, a sip, a respite; an unending pace of misery interspersed with eluding that which would end me. Several times I had need to backtrack as the markings I'd created were overlooked. Small scratches in bark or mushrooms, or loose rocks arranged into arrows. Absent a map, and the skills to make one, they were my only landmarks.
The sun dipped low on the horizon. I ran.
The sky bruised and took hues of spring. I sprinted.
The first twinkling stars peeked through the evening shroud. I took several drafts of nauseating elixir and never looked back.
In the dark of night, the bottle, at long last, ran dry. My legs screamed in horrid harmony with my lungs. My throat would join if it hadn't already transcended to a level of anguish I couldn't describe.
Yet. Deep down I knew, if I ceased for a moment, I would cease forever.
A choice that ultimately fell from my hands as my foot hit a pebble.
The ground rushed up to greet me. My body rebelled, shaking and sore. Bright green splattered the earth.
Then, blessedly, accursedly, nothing.
--
An overdose. That was the diagnosis according to Master Ezlo once I stumbled inside the next morning. A fact, he said, I would have known if I had ever bothered reading the dosage charts. He was more disappointed than furious, thankfully. A small mercy as he sighed and explained in detail all about how I failed.
I didn't mention the creatures. Not the rustling or the stench that permeated the deep woods. Only that I hadn't wanted to stay somewhere so unfamiliar.
'Master Ezlo...'
There was no need to explain further.
'My head hurts and I feel dizzy...'
After all, the other side of his facade was known to me.
'You don't seem to be bleeding... You'll be just fine, Vaati.'
No sense in futilely wasting my breath.
At the end of his lecture, my master huffed and sent me to my room, excusing me from chores for the morning and afternoon.
Blearily, bizarrely, the only thought that came to me as I lied down was: 'There are dosage charts?'
Because, yes, apparently the potency of a potion dictated how much was safe to consume at once, for both adults and children. He emphasized the latter. One of Master Ezlo's red medicines could be used up in four or five days, while a standard brew would only last one.
I had always wondered why he used smaller jars on occasion.
My attempt at a perfect stamina potion -- hah! -- resulted in a concoction potent enough to have lasted up to two or three days. For an adult.
In the span of single afternoon, I drank two-thirds of a bottle. Little wonder I collapsed into a sweaty mess the instant I stopped running.
A tiny, nibbling thought occurred as my eyelids grew heavy. Perhaps, bringing up the real cause for my maddened dash was worthwhile. Perhaps, permit Master Ezlo another chance.
The thought was quashed. Dosage charts. That was the summation of today's lecture. Dosage charts, and the promise that my punishment for an innocuous mistake was postponed, not over.
Three bottles remained. Three doses each over three days. Nine days remained.
By Farore, nine more days of this torment. Nine days of unsteady legs and nearly retching in the chilly air.
My vision grew blurry. Warmth soaked into my sleeve.
Nine days. No. It could be done in five. I would make it done in five. The bottles would empty, my humiliation over.
Then I could finally, finally start on Hebra's Breath.
Somewhere out there, some hapless fool was having the worst day of their life. Perhaps they had lost a bet, losing everything in a senseless gambit. Perhaps they had baked a delicious cake, only to have it fall on the floor, upside down.
"Now, Berch has never been a particularly bright Minish. He was only acknowledged as a Sage some twenty years ago. Most of his hair had gone grey before then!"
Perhaps, even, they were being ruthlessly stung by bees deep in the forest where none could hear their cries for mercy. Bees that were bereft of honey and chose to take out their wrath on whichever sap decided that gathering it for themselves was somehow worth the effort of saving ten rupees.
"So I say to myself, I say, 'Ezlo, you better prepare yourself. Berch is going to come back and complain that your enchantment failed. He’ll ignore your instructions and place responsibility on you for anything his ignorance caused'."
Those thoughts were my only consolation as Master Ezlo gestured to a partially-melted bracelet while he continued ranting. This was the eighth or ninth time he had recited this tale, forcing me to nod along instead of nodding off.
"Lo and behold, the next day he comes into my workshop, waving this around, and hollering at the top of his lungs. 'Ezlo! Are you in? I need a word with you!'"
Master Ezlo turned the ruined bracelet around, the blackened silver betraying how badly its wearer had suffered. He never explained at which temperature the metal melted, or what happened to the shard of sapphire. Several times in the past I'd idly wondered what such a mess had meant.
How unfortunate that I could now imagine Berch's wrist, his arm, his face, as he ran screaming and choking from the mines.
How fortunate, then, that he knew a potion master whom few could call their equal.
"I was having tea at the time, so I poured another cup and invited him into my kitchen. When he entered, I nearly jumped out of robes! Berch was a mess! His beard was little more than scruff and his eyebrows were missing!"
A let out a small gasp, barely audible, and therefore unobtrusive. Your student was listening, master, to every repeated word in familiar cadence.
He called it a lecture. A lesson on the importance of listening to my elders and heeding their wisdom. All it really was, however, was an anecdote on how much of a nuisance he found his fellow Sage to be.
"I said, 'Berch, old friend! What happened to you?'"
Master Ezlo pitched his voice up an octave. "'I’m afraid that sapphire bracelet you gave me was defective,' he said. 'I walked straight into that mine, but it barely kept me cool at all!'"
The real Sage Berch likely had much more to say than that, I was certain. The Eastern Mines were known to open into chambers full of magma, making the job extremely dangerous without proper equipment. If he had walked into one of them, unable to realize why the bracelet wasn't keeping him cool...
At the very least, he needn't have stumbled close to a magma flow before the bracelet began melting.
"I told him, 'Did you remember what I told you about sapphire bracelets? They keep you heatproof, not fireproof!'"
I nodded along. An important distinction, one that only mattered for those who dealt with literal blood-boiling conditions.
Urr... The day when I could finally seal away herb-girl's disturbing insights would be a day for celebration. Knowing how to treat heat stroke was useful. The mental images that accompanied that understanding were not.
"Honestly, what had he been thinking?" Master took a sip of tea, shaking his head. He always ended this rant in the same manner, pretending to bemoan Sage Berch's blunder. Of course the sapphire bracelet wouldn't have upheld under such intense, condensed fire magic. Of course Sage Berch should have realized something was amiss and left the mines earlier. And yet... I could only wonder.
Why had Master Ezlo only given him a sapphire bracelet? Why not a sapphire necklace? Or even better, a set of fire guardian earrings? He had a pair of those in his study, the preservation magic cast upon them so potent, they lit up the drawer they lay in. That was despite the fact that the rings themselves were stored in a little metal box. Creating a second pair would have required a few days of preparation, at least, otherwise that surely would have been a more preferable gift.
...Surely there was no harm in asking after his choice in a boon? Master Ezlo wasn't normally one for answering questions he deemed simple or obvious. If even the slightest bit of work or consideration would yield an answer, he would outright refuse to help. Though, seeing as Sage Berch had never even stepped foot in his home since my apprenticeship started...
"Master Ezlo..." I began carefully. "I never knew Sage Berch, so I don't quite understand. Why did you not grant him a necklace? Or a pair of fireproof earrings?"
He snorted in derision. "Because the old coot thought they were 'girly'. Bah!" Master set his tea cup back onto the saucer, close to his empty bowl of soup. Without him needing to ask, I took up the kettle and refilled it. "I knew where he was off to, and offered the earrings first. The fool wouldn't have it!" He suddenly shook a finger in my face. "Now don't you go thinking that enchanted jewelry degrades the wearer!"
"Never!"
"Good!" Master nodded decisively, and lifted his tea cup to sip at it again. "Now. Have you finished your chores for the morning?"
"Yes, master."
One furry white eyebrow raised in skepticism. "Even firewood collecting?"
My tail flicked behind me. "...No, master."
"Then get onto it. Soon enough, there won't be enough sunlight to see by."
"I'll get the dishes done before leaving."
"See that you do. Don't worry about supper when you get back. I'll take care of it."
That was...an unusual offer, but not an unwelcome one. We would likely be having some form of stew or bean dish, then. While not exactly delicious, the tradeoff in burdens was worth it. Having to only wash the dishes afterwards would be a welcome respite after skulking about the underbrush for loose twigs.
Taking our bowls and one of the tea cups with me back to the kitchen, I set about cleaning them before leaving the house. A brisk wind blew through the clearing, already threatening to dig through my winter robes.
A quick application of the heating charm chased away winter's encroaching fingers. Only a cheap trick, huh? Hah!
Regrettably, practice for any other spell would have to wait a little while longer. Finding enough wood for the winter wasn't the sort of chore I could afford to fritter time away with. Not without serious repercussions.
Idly, I rubbed my palms together. It was just as well. Anything that lessened the mental image of a severely burned Minish was a relief.
---
The number of fallen leaves had made finding any loose bits of wood difficult. After an hour, I had added a small pile to the collection against the house, beneath a tarp of armoranth fibers. After two, the pile barely rose to my neck. My arms ached in unfamiliar ways, splinters made their vexing presence known in my hands, and my magic was drained from how often I'd cast the heating charm. Far too late, I had remembered the sapphire bracelet left atop my desk.
Never again.
Entering the house, the pungent smell wafting out the door told me tonight's dinner was cabbage stew. Hopefully with more seasoning this time.
"I'm back!"
"Is that you, Vaati? Would you come into my study for a moment?"
A poe slipped its fingers down my spine. Master Ezlo rarely, if ever, called me in there. More often than not, it was to discuss responsibilities or upcoming events that would require working towards or around. Otherwise, he was disappointed.
Thus, I was either about to be handed a difficult task, or I was in for a talk.
The front door swung shut behind me, and I padded over to the small room. A place I was strictly forbidden entry unless explicitly given permission. Being told to leave the essay on his desk was a one-time allowance, and I was certain he had double checked the whole room to ensure I hadn't taken or moved a single thing the same evening.
His study door was wide open, giving me full view of Master Ezlo sitting behind his desk, hands clasped before him.
With six full bottles of green liquid lined up in a row.
Oh. Oh this was not for a mere talk. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I opened my mouth--
"You look exhausted, Vaati."
--and had the wind stolen from me.
"There were less twigs to the north than usual. I looked all over, but I think the villagers must have picked over the paths earlier this year."
"It was predicted to be a colder winter this year..." he allowed. "Regardless, I didn't call you in here to discuss your chores." He gestured to the jars. "This is about the results of your stamina potion."
The poe brushed against my back. This made no sense. If I had succeeded in brewing a perfect stamina potion, there would be no need for showing my efforts so blatantly. With one bottle, maybe. Yet for every bottle to be full, and arranged just so...
'This is a show,' herb-girl's reasoning whispered. For why else would Master Ezlo be sat here, dinner kept warm on the stove, if not to make a point?
Master Ezlo pointed at one of the middle bottles. "Take one and tell me what you think."
I took it, and uncorked the bottle. The potion didn't smell odd. No bits of wing dust stood out from the bright green mixture. Without a second thought, I took a sip...
And immediately bent over, gagging. Too sweet! Too bitter! The viscous potion stuck to the roof of my mouth and slid over my tongue painfully slow. I couldn't spit it out fast enough. I couldn't spit it out at all. It sat there, a monstrous combination that refused to vacate and instead cling to my teeth,
Oh gods, I was going to be sick...!
"I trust you see the problem, then? I couldn't possibly send this batch off to the general store. People would assume all of my potions tasted so awful! However, it also works. Not as well as mine do, granted, but well enough. Disposing of it all would be a waste!"
Oh. Oh no, no, no, no, he wasn't suggesting that I--
"From now on," he continued, "when you go gather firewood, you will bring one of these potions with you. I expect you to use it before you leave and again while you're gone. If you do not, I will know."
Swallowing back the worst, most vile sensations to ever disgrace my tongue, I rubbed at my mouth and sputtered, "It should have worked! The honey should have worked! I know it!"
"It would have, yes," he acknowledged calmly. A small surge of energy flooded my arms, washing the aches away. "However, you waited too long to add it to the cauldron. Any and all food should be added at the start of a potion, not near the end." Master shook his head. "What were you thinking, boy?"
I... I had...
...I hadn't thought at all. It had been a whim. A desire to try something that should have worked. That would have worked!
He'd never told me foodstuff should go in first. It wasn't written in any of the texts I'd poured over. Why?
Master Ezlo sighed, closing his eyes. "Consider this a lesson, Vaati. We must accept our mistakes, no matter how small." He then rose from his seat, hand pushing against his back as it cracked. Taking up his staff, he moved around the desk. "When you empty that bottle, give it to me and I'll exchange it for one of these."
For the briefest of moments, rage seethed in my chest. A burst of fury that I smothered as best I could while staring at the floor.
The thankfully clean floor. There would be no scrubbing on my hands and knees tonight.
Not now. Not yet. Not in front of him.
"Dinner has been ready for a while now. Let's go eat before it cools."
Taking the change of topic as the dismissal it was, I turned and left the study ahead of my master. The potion undulated disgustingly in its bottle as I moved. I idly corked it and placed it on the dining table before serving us.
The bowls were filled, the spoons and tea set down.
My appetite had fled.
"Eat up, Vaati," he encouraged.
With a hum, I tried. Tea to rinse the leftover potion out of my mouth, then a spoonful of cabbage stew.
Somehow, the food stayed down, if only just.
Afterwards, I went through my evening tasks. Clear the table, wash the dishes, put out the lights, then change into my sleeping robes. A pair of tweezers helped to remove the splinters from my hands, before I fell into bed.
The infernal, conflicting sensations continued to linger until sleep, at long last, claimed me.
There was a dictionary underneath my bed. It lied directly under my pillow alongside a collection of old myths and legends about the Human World. The discovery shouldn't have come as a surprise, seeing as I was the one to hide them there after living under Master Ezlo's roof for a few months. Yet, it was. Between the clashing memories of who I was, what I was, and where I was, this cache slipped through the cracks.
Holding them for the first time seemed a lifetime ago now.
The story book was checked out from a library several villages away and due back...probably seven months ago. Going back now would be...awkward, at the very least. Better to stay away from the swamp in the future. No need to cause an incident... The dictionary was found in the refuse pile outside, falling apart. A few pages were missing, although the rest were still held together by spare threads wrapped around old cords.
Master Ezlo had attempted persuading me to leave it to be burned later. He was right that such a worn tome was worthless when he had a newer, shinier edition on the shelf. I still kept it.
Owning a book was a luxury, something herb-girl long took for granted. Purchasing a book, or even two, every week was an impossible dream that bordered on fantasy. Saving up enough to buy even one took weeks if not months of labor depending on the title and author. Libraries, even the smaller ones, eased that burden and allowed me to devour them to my heart’s desire. Which plants made the best umbrellas, sewing tips, legends of all sorts, and the occasional newsletter about animals in the Human World and which to avoid...
Though, what I desired most, what captivated me above all else, was magic. Spells, magical artifacts, enchantments, glamors, ancient curses, magic in the very earth I walked upon and the air I breathed. It was everywhere and I always wanted to know more. Every tome within reach was scoured. Any reference, any speck that so much as hinted at a magical connection, I hoarded all of it. Anything and everything there was to know was mine!
Which, admittedly, barely filled the pages of my notebook. Not for a lack of sources, no, but for a lack of any author explaining how anything worked! While plenty of sources covered theory and the "whys" of magical workings, none ever covered the "hows". No texts detailed how to cast spells, or how the process for enchanting actually worked, or the types of ingredients necessary for healing potions that wouldn't end in indigestion.
It was no wonder why the number of potion "masters" fluctuated every year if even basic red medicine was a wild guess at best.
The limited insight on magic never made much sense. Not until becoming Master Ezlo's apprentice.
When I'd asked, his long, long lecture boiled down to a simple fact: if owning a book was a luxury, then learning magic was a treasure.
Most understandings of how magic worked were jealously guarded by Sages, mages, and real potion masters. Using magic required monitoring, he said. If anyone could open a book to try learning a spell, the whole forest would burn within a week, if the caster didn't maim themselves first.
Potion making was slightly less dangerous, in that the only risk was to the apothecary themselves. Because of that, and the work of an apothecary usually remaining behind closed doors, there were less eyes and restrictions in that community.
And due to that, the occasional Minish would trip across the right ingredients to successfully create a potion, spreading the misconception that the occupation was considered moderately simple to enter. Yet, the secrets to that craft were also closely protected, with competing potion masters going so far as to refuse sharing common resources with one another.
Master Ezlo had...opinions on that. Potion making was a craft, one that could heal or harm in equal measure. It needed standards. It needed order and control, he said, even if that control was in the form of brochures telling everyone which plants to absolutely stay away from, for the love of the Three.
Apparently, no consensus had been reached on which plants to caution others against brewing since the list was comprised of nearly every plant in existence. The argument had been ongoing for decades.
Little wonder why I never found a complete recipe in any of those books...
Shaking my head, I finally withdrew both the ragged dictionary and the story book, before setting the mattress back down. It was still somewhat damp from the sudden, unwarranted wake up call from the day before, meaning both would need to be put away elsewhere for a while until I was certain they wouldn't grow mold under there.
The dictionary could join the notebook on my desk, buried under a few other tomes I was supposed to read soon. As for the story book...
My hands ran over the soft cover, the leather worn and tearing in places. The cover wasn't gilded like that abomination on Ezlo's shelves, with the title instead on the first page.
Myths and Legends of Hyrule stared back at me in elegant script. Someone had scribbled out the author's name and crudely drawn a dead bird, complete with crosses for eyes. Truly a marvelous addition. A fine example of artistic criticism.
Before I was conscious of it, the tome was open to a random page. A need to know thrummed in my bones as I flipped back to the start of the section, and started reading.
Long before we Minish descended to the surface, long before demons ravaged the land, we lived above the clouds. Our ancestors traveled across the sky as easily as birds, exploring the world far and wide. They knew how to read the winds like winding rivers, and rode them to their heart's delight.
They found oceans and lands, ruins and villages. There was not a place in the world they had not visited, and by the same turn, they had never experienced anything of the world below.
Over time, they became lonely. They desired to help others than themselves, and to find a place to call their own.
Guided by the wind's breath and the goddesses' wills, their prayers were answered.
Above the Kingdom of Hyrule, our ancestors met the Wind Tribe. A cheerful and welcoming people, they embraced us and invited us into their homes.
Pure white clouds upheld impossible works of stone and magic. Wind magic, we were told, was their secret. It kept the clouds together and gales away. To further keep themselves safe, they created winding routes in the sky that only those who could read the wind could follow. These routes were taught to our ancestors, so they could come and go if they so wished.
But why, our ancestors asked, would you stay up here when there are such marvelous sights below?
The Wind Tribe answered: "We left the surface behind and have chosen to exist in the sky for a greater purpose. The wind is our guide and our purpose. We live to serve, and--"
CUCCO! CUCCO!
I leapt, the book tumbling out of my hands and onto the floor. It was noon already?! Grabbing up the book, I placed it onto the desk, and hurried for the kitchen. A good vegetable soup would do in this weather. As would some bread and butter.
Herbs, carrots, potatoes, and onions were pulled from hanging baskets and crates. Water was poured into a pot and the fire was lit.
Still, even as I focused on making lunch, that need to know more called to me. To pick up the book again and flip through its pages as a refresher. To scrape back the edges of history and speculation and find the magic. To secret away another tome Master Ezlo definitely would not approve of me reading. To start on Hebra's Breath. To delve into whatever magic I could get my hands on and learn it.
The knife in my hands slammed into the cutting board as I diced onions. The itch to return to my room was as vexing as it was alluring. Of course I wanted to learn magic, it was the reason I begged Master Ezlo for an apprenticeship! And yet... The urge to pick up every spell I could nearly compelled me to turn around and shut myself up in my room and not come out until I had wrung everything out from the story book. Then the rest sitting on my desk.
I would eventually do so. Later, when I hadn't food to make or chores to do. I had no illusions that my position as Master Ezlo's student could easily be revoked at any time. So long as I did what I was told and kept certain...likely frowned upon practices to myself, I could keep the title for longer.
That thought alone quelled the itch and allowed me to breathe. My chopping lightened as I switched to some potatoes and herbs.
This had to be herb-girl's fault, somehow. I just knew it! Such...enthusiasm for the magical arts had never been so overwhelming as before the incident.
Not that the fervor for learning was completely unwanted! Between the additional focus in tracking down loose threads and piecing together techniques based on "classic" patterns and rules, I had made more progress in spellcasting in a few weeks than I had in months listening to Master Ezlo.
The accompanying intensity, unfortunately, could be a little...much.
Enough to ignore small burns, even. Had Master Ezlo noticed? Had I hidden the discolored patches of skin well, or...?
My knife slammed into a carrot too hard, sending a slice flying onto the floor. Augh... No. Lingering on such thoughts was futile. What was done, was done. Whether he thought the injuries were just for sneaking away to practice without a watchful eye, or if he simply hadn't taken noticed mattered not. I had not been approached about my experiments with Din's Fire or Hebra's Breath. My secrets still held. For now.
Picking up and tossing the carrot slice into the refuse bin, I returned to what mattered for the time being. Preparing the soup wouldn't take too long. Perhaps an hour, then I could see about what lesson Master Ezlo had planned for the afternoon!
...Hopefully not another lecture on the differences between zircons and diamonds.
Words blurred together in the low candlelight, swirling ink crawling across the page between blinks. Words ran together, meaning lost entirely as they wavered in and out of focus.
I blinked hard, willing the words to make sense again. The horrendous affront to my sanity sat just out of reach, above the page I was desperately staring at. I would need it for another quote soon, somewhere in the 500-page range where the author waxed poetic about the virtues of flowers for six whole pages. Two pages before that condensed ego-stroking was a small reference to the earth cooling, which meant water magic would also become cooler, which meant...a lack of energy, which meant fire magic weakening, and thus empowering water magic through the Duality Principle. Cooler water and an absence of fire...no, heat, meant ice formed far more easily.
The words were there in my head. They were ever so slightly muddled, slipping together in ways that hurt to think about, but I could pull them together. I knew I could.
Half of the page was empty, awaiting me to fill it in. Only a little further and this accursed, vile, stupid, agonizing essay would be finished. Fourteen pages of putting together a puzzle that was made of several other puzzle sets, and tied together with fraying twine. All I needed was for the words to make sense. For my eyes to stop aching. For everything to stay still long enough to drag quill against parchment and end this nightmare!
...
I placed the quill down and rubbed at my eyes. Sunset had been hours ago. Master Ezlo was sound asleep, and would be awake in a handful of hours to start the day. I would be expected to be up at the same time, regardless of how much energy I had. But... If I gave in now, and crept into bed, I would not only wake up bereft of energy, the essay would not be done in time. It had to be on my master's desk tomorrow... Or was it today? Nonetheless, the papers would have to be bundled together once the sun rose.
My original goal had been fifteen pages, half as much as had been required. As I started scrounging for evidence to back up my thesis, though, a bitter hindrance became apparent. That being a complete and utter lack of supporting information. My thesis and conclusion depended heavily on how fire magic interacted with the world and how that related to non-magical sources of heat.
Almost half of my argument pulled on what little herb-girl knew, and what I had gleaned from learning the heating and cooling charms. The rest was connected by the barest threads of logic and justifying the few things that would not make sense at all with magic. Where did extra energy go? Absorbed by magic. Why did the leaves change color on some trees but not others? Magical tolerance. Why did cooler temperatures affect water magic more than earth magic? Magic!
Good Farore, it sounded so redundant. It was too late to back out now, though.
With a deep breath, I picked up the quill again. Just a little further to go, and I could drag myself and the blanket around my legs back to bed.
Slowly, painstakingly, the words spilled onto the page. There would be no draft, or time for editing. Whatever I wrote down would be what my master read, for good or ill.
The last of the forsaken essay came together in fits and starts. Lines were read thrice. Ink stained my hands. The candle ran lower and lower. An odd thought crossed my mind to fetch another candle, but no. Master Ezlo would know if took one, and then he would ask why it missing. Once I told him, he would call him-me troublesome or lazy for waiting so long. If I didn't finish by the time this candle died, then I only had myself to blame.
The page I was on ran out of space. It was put to the side as one more was dragged in front of me. The conclusion was already written days ago, the last page long dried out. Presumptuous, perhaps. I preferred the term "prepared". Still, that left only the final paragraph to trudge through.
Thank. Farore.
The rest of the words left me as if my quill were possessed. The flame ran low, waxing dripping onto the desk. It was negligible. An issue for the morning.
Whatever I ended with, I couldn't be certain. The last page sat there, in the dim light that wouldn't survive another five minutes.
The inkwell was plugged, the quill set aside. I stumbled to my feet, dragging the heavy quilt behind me to bed.
I couldn't even remember closing my eyes.
...
Freezing! Cold! Wet! I did not screech. I did not. Apprentices did not glare murderously at their master as he stood there chuckling. Apprentices greeted their grinning master with --
"Master Ezlo?!"
--very nuanced and pointed questions.
"Good, you're awake!" He put down the bucket in his hands, and took his staff from where it leaned against the wall. "Maybe next time you'll get out of bed when I call you."
"I'm sorry, master." Belatedly realizing how soaked and cold my robes were, I cast the heating charm. That was slightly better. "I didn't mean to..." A yawn interrupted me, my jaw cracking in my ears. "...sleep in."
Bright rays of sunlight shone through the window. What time was it? I decided to ask.
"Why it's daytime, my boy! Now get up! Those chores aren't going to do themselves!"
"Yes, Master Ezlo," I mumbled.
"What was that?"
Straightening up, I repeated myself louder.
He hummed. "I thought so. Now, get changed. There's some breakfast left for you on the table."
Then he strode out of the room, leaving me in a damp bed with a thoroughly soaked quilt. That would have to be hung outside to dry soon if I wanted to be warm tonight.
Quickly as I could, I changed into a set of dry robes and piled the wet ones on top of my blanket. Breakfast could wait for a few minutes while I took the bundle outside to dry. My arms were quickly drenched, streams of icy water running down to my elbows and dripping to the floor as I carried my things between my room and the front door. That whole mess would need mopping up before Master Ezlo fell and broke his hip.
Ah, yes. What more perfect way to start the day than adding yet another chore to the list?
Outside, the laundry line was empty. The little stool next to it hadn't been moved back inside, so I moved it under the line and got to work.
My clothes went up first, pinned properly in place after a few hops to reach the twine. They were lighter and thinner than my winter clothes, so they would hopefully dry before dusk. The quilt though... It was heavier than the buckets! Trying to throw it over the line ended with it coming back down and slapping me in the face. Moving the stool for a better angle only made it fall to the ground, getting it filthy!
Ugh. Great Farore's Blessing, why was I so tiny?! Master Ezlo was tall! The other Minish my age were tall! Herb-girl had been tall! When would it be my turn? When would this indignity end?
With one last heave, I tossed one bundled up end of the quilt and watched it fly over the top of the line.
And stay there.
Oh.
Oh, well...
Moving the stool closer, I leaped and grabbed the higher end of the hanging quilt, pulling it down with me. Pins were put in their place, and I finally hopped down without further incident.
One day, when I was a fully acknowledged Sage, I would never have to do this ever again. I could hire someone else to get slapped with soaking wet clothes and blankets while I was busy making incredible magical artifacts! And assorted trinkets and bobbles, of course. It was the little things that helped to quickly spread word of a Sage's amazing work, after all. If a mere earring's or necklace's enchantment lasted for a decade, then surely the more time-consuming crafts would be far more impressive!
And then, once my name was held in awe, I would stroll through the villages as the Sage of Certainty! Because there would be no doubt in my prowess.
Heh heh heh heh.
Stepping through the threshold, my dreams faded in the face of a trail of puddles. I sighed. The dishes could wait a little longer, surely. My breakfast, too, probably.
Rubbing at my eyes, I set off to do the morning chores. First was mopping the floor so no one would slip. Next was fetching water to clean the dishes while I nibbled on breakfast -- some apple and a slice of buttered bread. Then there was dusting the shelves, sweeping the floor, dragging in firewood, and making my bed, but not before dropping off my fourteen page headache on the desk in master's study.
My legs were as lead by the time the clock struck two. My arms weren't much better and my eyes kept closing for longer and longer. But it was time for tea, so I heated the water, collected the saucers and cups and tea leaves and sugar and spoons and lemon juice and the fancy kettle, and took them all on a small wooden tray into the workshop.
When I arrived, Master Ezlo was bent over the workbench, muttering quietly to himself. Metal tapped and clinked together as he worked on his next project.
I made sure my footsteps were noisy as I approached. If he didn't hear me coming, he was more likely to startle. Better he had a warning.
Even if his wheezing was funny.
"It's tea time, master," I said, pushing the tray to one side of the workbench beside a few buttons. They were as wide as the table itself.
"Ah, thank you, Vaati." He took the canister of tea leaves and sprinkled some into his cup. Then he glanced up at the cucco clock above his work station. Stopped. Looked again. Frowned. "You're running late today," he said.
A poe's grip held my spine as he poured water over his tea leaves. He couldn't know I had been dragging myself through the house. He also couldn't know I had stayed up all night writing that blasted essay!
Wait a minute. The essay... Would he believe me if...?
"Ah, I...I needed to drop off my essay in your study!" Yes, yes, that was it, I was absolutely not late because of anything else! "It was due today, a-and I didn't want to bother you!"
Master Ezlo added a few drops of lemon juice to his tea, stirred it, and took a sip. Bleugh. "I have time now. Bring it here, would you?"
"Okay."
My stomach flipped. He wanted to see it. He was going to read it, not in the comfort and solitude of his study but here in the workshop. In front of me. Where he could judge every line, every word, every mistake I had written.
He might as well have sent me to the gallows.
I almost felt like I was floating as I walked out of the workshop and into his study. The stack of papers lay there, in the same spot I had left it. They crinkled in my hands, still smudged and stained with ink from the night before.
It...had to be enough. I had to be. Anything less would be unacceptable.
Anything less would mean failure.
All too soon I passed through the entryway into the workshop again. Steam rose from the second cup on the tray. It likely had lemon juice added to it as well.
That worry and disgust seemed so foolish now.
"Here you are, master," I said, holding out the papers.
He took them from me. Drew one more long sip of tea. Set the cup in its saucer. And looked at pure, distilled misery.
He stared at the first page. The opening words were effectively branded in my mind from how often I'd read it.
In all things there is a cycle, and in nature that cycle regulates the magic innate to all living things, waning and waxing from spring till winter and back into spring.
After some time, he flipped to the second with a soft "ah".
Earthen magic has been known for eons as a considerable force, able to strengthen all things tied to Din's power.
My heart beat in my stomach. Why wasn't he saying anything?
Earth magic is also responsible for how flora and fauna react as the days become shorter. As the sun retreats earlier and earlier, Din's domain ebbs, creating a void that the other elements must fill.
The tocking of the cucco clock beat an uneasy rhythm in my skull. Why wasn't he saying anything? Why...?
Water magic, oft erroneously referred to as "the element of life" (pg. 234) or "the original blessing" (pg. 244), is as crucial an aspect to the shift in seasons as Earth magic is.
Master hummed. Why did he hum? Was it the insult to the bumbling author? The way information was dragged out? Had he found fault with my words?
As volatile as some may believe fire magic to be, it is far from the "fickle flickering flame of fool's folly" (pg. 511) as one may believe.
He flipped through the pages a little faster.
Fire magic is a curious element during this time of change, as its role is invisible to most. While it is used to warm our homes and cook our food, and indeed, is essential to survive the upcoming winter, its role in nature and its connection to earth and water magics is oft overlooked in favor of more blatant showings of the elements, whether that be leaves falling from branches long ago blessed by Farore (pg. 345) or lakes shrinking and freezing over according to Nayru's law.
Please.
It is an invisible measure of paradoxical forces. Fire magic ebbs, and with it goes warmth, allowing ice to crawl over the land. The Duality Principle states that every school of magic has a polar opposite that will wax or wan depending on both internal and external factors. For earth magic it is wind, and for fire magic it is water. However, each type of magic is not isolated in how it affects the other elements.
Please tell me.
As heat is increased, so too does energy. This is easily witnessed when boiling a kettle of water, as fire heats the metal and transfers the energy from burning wood into cool water. In time, energy bleeds into the water and the temperature increases. When the kettle is taken away from the flame, the water begins to cool with steam taking away the now unnecessary energy. Through this example it becomes simpler to understand fire magic's ultimate role during autumn: to fade away with Din's domain while increasing water magic's potency. Of course, this also means that wind becomes empowered as per the Duality Principle (pg. 124), which as a consequence of fire magic's retraction means the winds blow cooler as well.
What did I do right? What did I do wrong?
Master flipped through the pages even faster, ones I could barely recall what had been written. He hummed, he nodded, he raised an eyebrow! Yet he didn't say a single word as he stopped on the final page.
The effects of these elements on one another, while upheld by the Duality Principle, should not be simply placed into little labeled boxes for the sake of convenience, but examined closer. Nature is amazing, and the powers that work subtly beneath our feet should be recognized more often.
Finally, finally, Master Ezlo looked up at me.
"Well..." he said, "You certainly had much to say."
I nodded, quickly. Perhaps too quickly. "I had an excellent teacher."
...Why had I said that? I sounded like a common brown noser!
Still, he stood a little taller and began stroking his beard. "Hmm... Perhaps, if you're this dedicated...." He glanced over a bundle of red cloth on the table and dipped his head in consideration. "Yes, perhaps now would be a good time to show you." The ink-stained nightmare was put aside, and the cloth was taken up instead. "Do you know what this is, Vaati?"
I blinked, then reached out for my tea and quaffed it. The taste of lemon lingered disgustingly on my tongue. My throat was no longer dry, though.
Ignoring the chuckle at my no doubt awfully puckered expression, I took a good look at the...honestly, frayed-looking fabric. The more I looked, however, the more I realized that the thread was being woven into...well, the end product.
"Is that...a swaddle blanket?"
Master instantly scowled and sputtered. "A swaddle -- no! This is a hat! A very special hat!" His gaze swept from me to the half-made headwear. "I started making this a few years ago, back when I didn't have as much red thread as I do now. Using premade fabric would make the process simpler, but the enchantment would be much, much weaker for it."
A heartbeat passed. Then another. When it became clear that he wanted me to ask the obvious, I obliged. "An enchantment? What sort of enchantment would require this much effort?"
Master Ezlo smirked. It was that smug look again, when he knew something I didn't. Except, he didn't keep quiet this time. He bent down slightly, and whispered reverently: "A wish fulfillment enchantment, Vaati. This hat that will grant the wish of its wearer. Any wish. Whatever he or she wants dearly in their heart will become reality!"
Any wish...? Just like that? He was describing a fairy tale! There was no way, absolutely no way such a thing was possible!
"Ah, I see. My apprentice doesn't believe his poor, old master." Master Ezlo tsked, shaking his head at my expression. "That's fine, that's fine. You will be able to see it in action in three years' time, once the Minish Realm opens."
"When the Minish Realm opens..." ...He had to be joking. "You mean the Human World? You're going there with it? Why?" Perhaps he had a friend on the other side of the portal? He was certainly old enough to have gone through the last time the passage opened...
Master smiled broadly. "Why, I'll be gifting this hat to the humans, of course!"
"What?!" This was a joke! A lark! A cruel prank! Did he really not know the lengths that humans would go to for power? For money, for fame, for a single percentage of "productivity"?! "Bu-but master! Surely you won't just...give it to any human, right? You must have someone in mind for it, right?!"
The scowl was back. "Calm yourself, VaatI! What do you take me for, boy? Some drunken fool? Of course I have someone in mind! I will be giving the mage's cap to the King of Hyrule. If not him, then his wife or child."
That...was... That was better. Not perfect, of course, but better.
..Oh, who was I trying to fool?
"Oh...okay. yes, that's...great," I lied, fixing a smile on my face. What a short-sighted goal for such incredible handiwork. The hat was better out of the mitts of humans who would wish for something inane, like infinite cake or a mountain of rupees. How Master Ezlo couldn't possibly see the flaw in his plan was astonishing. "I don't think you a fool, master, far from it! I simply...had concerns if the hat fell into the wrong hands. Not all humans are trustworthy."
And wasn't that the understatement of the century? Humans exploited each other all the way down the social ladder until everyone at the bottom was eating dirt. Or lived in it, as it were.
This King was likely no less deceitful than any other human on the other side of the gate.
Master Ezlo humphed. "You let me worry about that, Vaati. Fear not, I'll make sure the mage's cap remains safe. Now, how about you show me how to enchant a ring for luck, hm?"
Ice was stillness, heat was motion. Heat was energy, cold was its absence. Ice was stillness, heat was motion...
Between them both was the answer I was seeking. A way to gather the cold, embrace it, and spread it through my limbs at will. With how quickly a chill came during the evening, however, it was becoming more difficult to measure if any of my efforts were bearing fruit. Magic flowed through my arms, down to my fingertips, but was it carrying the element I sought? Or a lack thereof? Numbing fingers could be attributed to the weather as much as it could a menial success.
As the heating charm banished the uncomfortable feeling of building frost again, I threw my hands up, scraping my nails against my scalp.
What was I missing?! This was a supposed to be a basic charm! A child half my age would be capable of casting it, so why couldn't I? Surely there was some trick to it, some mindset or incantation that was necessary to the process. Not that I had the luxury of knowing, seeing as the tome for the charm was deemed useless in my master's home. Although if there were some way of casting the charm effortlessly, it was likely so obvious a toddler could grasp it!
A few strands of lilac fell away into my hands.
...This was unacceptable. If Master Ezlo caught me in this state of duress, he would take away my independent study time completely. He might even decide I was too volatile to remain his apprentice!
I needed to get a grip on myself! This was a basic charm, not even complicated enough to be considered a proper spell. There had to be a way to cast it without needing to involve a mantra! An obvious method...
I stopped and clenched my eyes shut.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
There was still time.
...I was thinking too literally. Magic bypassed the normal rules of nature. It allowed for the manipulation and control of any element without accounting for ridiculous concepts such as physics.
That was herb-girl's influence again, no doubt. Always making my life more complicated...
Well then. Without accounting for that unwarranted bit of knowledge, I was handling two opposing sides of magic. A heating charm and a cooling charm. A lack of cold. A lack of heat...
Could...could it really be so simple?
Going by the logic that both are quite literally opposite sides of the same force... If I simply...pushed heat away from myself...
My arms instantly grew clammy.
A grin spread across my face. This was it. This was it! I cackled, turning my arm over in wonder. No manual or book or scroll had been necessary. Only my instincts and wit.
I had to be sure it wasn't a fluke though.
The heating charm was reapplied and I focused once more. The warmth was unwanted, so it was pushed--
A chill overcame me again, not just in my arms but all over, as if I had submerged myself in the river.
Another laugh ripped out of me. This was it! This was the first stepping stone towards Hebra's Breath! And it had taken less than a week since my punishment was doled out to grasp it!
...
I slumped and sighed, idly warming myself again. I was going to have to rewrite an entire page to account for this.
...Unless I added an argument instead? Present the examples of energy transfer and distribution as a way of supporting how the presence or absence of it correlates to seasonal change and nature, then how that lack of energy itself affected earth and water magic in how they interacted...
Which would fall into fire magic's core role in autumn all over again. Good. My conclusion was safe.
I glanced at the hourglass at my side. My half hour was almost up. It was just as well I supposed. There was little else to do for the day before night fell, and the essay was far from finished. Standing up, I shook out my legs and brushed off the loose dirt and moss clinging to my clothes. Damp mud stained parts of my apprentice robes, despite my attempts to keep them clean. Wonderful. Scrubbing the muck away was precisely how I wanted spend the next morning. Ugh.
The perfect plan for the perfect pupil! Hah!
What was done was done, however. I sauntered back inside, relishing in a job well done. With both charms in hand, I could begin starting on real spells in earnest. Master's restrictions permitting, anyway. If I could get away from the house for a while, I could practice Din's Fire in secret. If not, I would be restricted to Hebra's Breath. While not as flashy, the freezing spell was supposed to send forth a flurry of ice and blistering winds. There were enough roots nearby to hide behind for practice, and so long as I kept the time for the sessions cut short, Master Ezlo would have no reason to come out and find me.
While the coming winter would eventually force me to shelve my efforts for a time, that didn't mean I would sit on my laurels. There would be potions to brew, enchantments to memorize...
"Vaati? Could you come in here for a moment?"
Ah, yes. And lectures. How ever would I survive the day without one?
Still buoyed by my success, I made my way into the heart of my master's home: the workshop. Here was where his heart and passion lied, in the wood and gems and cloth neatly arranged on varnished shelves that reached towards the ceiling. Sapphires and rubies gleamed next to topazes and diamonds. Woven grass bracelets sat in a basket, ready to be enchanted. Gears sat haphazardly in one corner. Bolts of fabric piled up on top of one another in every hue imaginable. Bits of metal sat next to wood blocks, ready to be molded or carved.
And at the very end of the room, past every shelf and basket, was Master Ezlo. He bowed over his table, the quiet clicking of metal the only noise besides my footsteps.
"Yes, Master Ezlo? Did you need my help with something?" He never did, but pretending he might and asking after never hurt.
"Ho ho! So eager to take over my work, are we? You'll have to wait a good while longer for that, my boy!" He stepped aside and gestured to a thin silver bracelet, a tiny bit of ruby set in it. "For now, I want you to show me what you've learned about the enchanting process. Tell me what this bracelet is for, and what type of enchantment would be best."
Far too easy. I'd known the second I laid eyes on it.
"It's for staying warm in colder weather. The silver conducts magic better, so the enchantment itself is meant to last longer than if a grass bracelet was used. The ruby naturally gives off warmth...so the final enchantment needs to prevent the silver from tarnishing. A preservation spell would work."
"Correct! Now, cast the enchantment."
Warmth blossomed in my chest as I approached the workbench. Contrary to what most would assume, we did not need to carve words into the bracelet or shake a magical staff over it while singing some silly rhyme. Preservation spells were purely based on intent with a handful of words to carry it.
I had ever only performed this once before. The results...were best left unsaid.
This time, would be different though. I would be better. I would be perfect.
Cupping the bracelet in my hands, I focused. Preservation was eternity. Preservation was endless. It lasted longer than the mountains would stand and resisted the river of time's flow. When my master was gone, when I was gone --
Just like her.
--when I was gone it would still be here. The trees would bow and break, the rivers would dry up, but this spell would be everlasting.
Magic unspooled from where it rested in my chest, down my arms, and into my hands.
"Prevent decay," I intoned, "delay the end."
The magic was dragged out of me. A soft purple glow emanated from the bracelet, growing brighter. Then brighter still. Then, with a brief flare, the glow settled into a vibrant violet.
It was done.
My arms nearly dropped as strength left them. My legs started to rebel as well and I locked them in place. No weaknesses! Not in front of my master. Not in front of the Sage who would decide my fate.
"Hmm-hmm! That's good, good!"
Yes. Yes, it was, wasn't it? Much preferable over my previous attempt. That faint glow remaining was proof of my work. My efforts! Not a soul alive would deny my skill!
"Now I don't have to worry about picking up my orders from the shop!"
What. I turned to stare at my master. His intention was clear, yet beyond that... "You mean...this is mine?"
He vaguely waved his hand. "Not quite. I'll sell or trade it away eventually, probably around this time next year if the spell lasts that long. At that time I'll have you enchant another bracelet. For now though, you'll wear this when you go run errands for me this winter."
Master Ezlo smiled, with that arrogant little eye squint as he stroked his beard. I'd seen that expression enough times at this point, usually at the end of a lecture I had endured a dozen times before. He clearly believed...what? That this was a clever ploy? That he had tricked his apprentice into rectifying the main issue with traveling in winter?
I should have been upset. Outraged, even. Here was my best enchantment to date, and it was only to be used for trips to the next village. A temporary measure that would never truly be mine. And yet.
And yet.
I couldn't find that burning anger. How could I? Master Ezlo only sold enchanted items that were either useless to him or custom ordered by certain Minish. He would tinker in his workshop, making jewelry or accessories or some other trinket, and then when he grew bored, he would sell it off to get more materials.
He wasn't going to immediately sell off my bracelet. He could have easily decided to barter it off at the beginning of spring, but he wanted to hold onto it. To see how long the preservation spell held.
...Did he actually care or...?
...
No. He was doing the logical thing. He needed to measure his student's progress. It only made sense to keep it throughout the year.
'Master? I feel dizzy...'
There could be no other reason.
'Can you get that report done by Tuesday? Thanks, doll.'
Caring was a weakness.
Clearing my throat, I fixed a smile on my face. With as much enthusiasm as I could, I said, "Thank you, master. I won't let you down!"
He chuckled. "You haven't yet, my boy! Ho ho!"
Yet. Yet. So he thought...
"Now, I believe you have some light reading to do."
Ah. Right. That tedious, mind-numbing essay awaited completion. My shoulders slumped, and I sighed. "Yes, Master Ezlo." I couldn't entirely keep the dejection out of my voice as I turned to go.
Master Ezlo only chuckled and sent me on my way.
As I passed through the doorway back into the living room, I glanced down at my prize. The silver hoop was smooth and warm beneath my fingers, the ruby's shine flickering in the passing light of the glowing mushrooms that dotted the house.
Regardless of my master's reasons, he had gifted me something invaluable. I had accepted my fate for the upcoming winter, being trapped inside all day, every day, until the snow melted and I could once again be free to move about outside without suspicion. With a ruby bracelet, however, I had options. Limited options, true, though options all the same.
Din's Fire was no longer an "if". Hebra's Breath was no longer restricted to gnarled roots and tiny time limits.
Whether he knew it or not, my master had given me more than a magical trinket. He had given me freedom.
Still, there was one slight hindrance to my plans, and it was staring up at me from my desk, gilded title and all.
Well. Nobody ever said the path to becoming a Sage was easy. Goddesses, I couldn't wait to be done plodding through such tedious drivel.
The package had been late. Of course it was. Leaving a scant two hours before sunset meant arriving at my destination while the stars dotted the sky. The customer had frowned but accepted the delivery all the same, disappointed by the delay yet understanding that an apprenticeship meant many responsibilities to shoulder and carry out. At the very least, my master's work would not suffer as much by word of mouth, saving face, if only barely. Unfortunately, by extension, how reliable I was would fall into question.
Master Ezlo accepted no excuses, however.
And my tardiness was to be punished.
"Starting today," he said, dropping a thick, heavy tome on the table. The pages were yellowed by age, and the gilded title read Autumn's Decay: A Treatise on the Elements and Their Roles in Seasonal Magic, Volume Three. A dry slog of a read that had nearly made me fall asleep during my first months under his roof. "The time for your self-study sessions will be cut back! You will have an hour a day to spend on your own pursuits, and no more. Not until you can show me you are ready for the responsibility again."
I stared at the title of the dreadful tome, dismay twisting into mounting horror. The true consequence of this punishment was clear before my master had finished speaking. I had not eighty hours to attain my goals, but twenty-eight. A mere twenty-eight hours to learn the cooling charm, to advance Din's Fire, and to start on Hebra's Breath before winter would stifle my progress completely.
Months without being able to perform anything but the most mundane of spells. I would have theories and ideas drawn from my master's library, yet no way to test any of it until the ground thawed.
I swallowed the foul curse that threatened to spill from my lips, then a second. I could not afford to lash out at him. I could not raise my voice and act like a child no matter how harsh or unfair I found this castigation to be.
Master Ezlo never took on apprentices. It was a point of fact. My being here, learning beneath his watchful eye, was nothing short of a miracle. If any of my actions or words jeopardized my place here, if at any point Master Ezlo deemed me too troublesome or disobedient to keep devoting his time and effort to...
It would mean the destruction of my very future. My lessons, my studies, my dream. None of it would matter! All advanced forms of magic would be forever out of my grasp. I would be abandoned once more, the failure aberration forsook by even a Sage. None would desire a potion or craft created by a student he rejected, nor would there be any work available for a perceived scoundrel such as I.
Everything I had striven for would be for naught.
So I held tight to that image, spurned as politely as would be acceptable by Minish society, and chose my words carefully.
"Master... I read this during my first year here. What more could I possibly learn from this book?"
"Plenty, my boy!" He tapped his staff on the floor. "And you will show it by writing me a ten page essay on how water magic interacts with earth magic during autumn, and how both are affected by fire magic."
Water and earth - that was halfway through the tome as I recalled, but fire... Fire magic was mentioned in scattered pieces throughout the entire two-inch thick tome until the final few chapters where about half of the element's importance was more or less dismissed in favor of the rest.
There was no sound reasoning, merely a brief overview of fire's role in the changing of seasons before moving on. I remembered the absurdity purely due to how abysmal the author sounded and how much I abhorred the lack of intelligence on display.
I took a deep breath and quietly sighed. "Yes, master." I paused, a thought belatedly occurring to me. "How long do I have to complete this assignment?"
"Hmm..." Master Ezlo stroked his beard. "Considering your other duties... Ten days."
"Ten...!" I bit my tongue. Too late. Master Ezlo raised an eyebrow at the outburst. A dare. A warning.
"Yes, master," I said, the words almost a hiss as I bowed my head. "I'll endeavor to meet your expectations."
"Good. That's what I expected! Erm, thought." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I'm looking forward to what conclusions you'll draw."
The tip of his staff tapped the tome, the beak of the carved bird head gently touching the title. "You better get started if you want your study time back. I'll see your essay on my desk in ten days. Ho ho!"
As he walked away, I gazed down at the tome again. Ten days to read two inches of dry text over almost a thousand pages, then write an essay that Master Ezlo would approve of. Dividing up the book across...perhaps five days? Six at best. Which meant...that...
A second wave of horror seized me. I would actually need to work on this accursed task during my allotted self-study time! Twenty-eight hours quickly dwindled away into an impossible deadline. No amount of planning would allow success. Not fully anyway. I would have to prioritize which spell to apply myself to, which would depend entirely on any additional restrictions Master Ezlo saw fit to place upon me.
Good goddesses, what a complicated mess.
Yes, I had been a fool. I had allowed time to slip away from me the day before when I should have been more alert, been more perceptive... But I was not, and that singular mistake had cost me dearly. The constrain on my free time was unnecessarily excessive, he had to have known that.
A snarl escaped me and I nearly tore the cover off the book while slamming it open.
My master had me pinned like an insect. A tiny, insignificant insect that he could crush with the barest of effort.
If I wanted to avoid being squashed and keep my title of apprentice, then I needed to do my best. No. I needed to exceed what he believed I was capable of. To go above and beyond what was required.
So, if he desired an essay, I would give him an essay. I would give him the best damned essay the Minish Realm had ever seen! It would have references! It would have proper citations! It would rip the concept of fire into an absolutely vital role of the season, so much so that the original, untalented oaf of an author would look upon it in shame and humiliation!
I was Master Ezlo's perfect, little student, after all. I could do no less than utter evisceration of imbecility.
Master Ezlo had finally noticed something was wrong with me.
There was no grand confrontation while I was cleaning, or subtle digs during tea. Nor had there been any changes in the day-to-day routine. Instead, he simply found me during my self-study time, sitting by the river behind his home.
"Vaati? What are you doing lazing about out here?"
I cracked open an eye, finding him standing across the flowing water.
"Meditating, master," I lied. If a heating charm was so insignificant to him, then I would not dare admit to attempting a cooling charm to work my way up to a freezing spell. Unlike with my progress with the heating charm, though, this was taking far, far longer than anticipated.
"Ho ho! If you wanted to try falling asleep while sitting up, there are better ways to go about it, my boy." He hummed. "I may have some spare incense lying about somewhere..."
"Is the incense necessary, Master Ezlo?"
"Ah, no, not really. It does facilitate in achieving the mindset for it, however."
"Ah." I nodded along, as if finding that helpful. I would, of course, be expected to take the unspoken offer. However, if I did that, it would ruin all of my current and future attempts at channeling the ice cold sensation of the river through me. Whether that was working already, or if the natural coolness of the river itself was seeping into my bones was difficult to tell at this stage.
The heating charm was keeping me from falling ill thus far, though it was mitigating potential problems, not solving them.
I hummed, pretending to consider my master's words. "I find the sound of the river peaceful enough," I settled upon. "It is quieter inside, true, and incense would work much better in an enclosed space, but out here..." Tilting my head up, I found the rustling branches of the impossibly far canopy. The leaves had steadily been browning and drifting to the ground for weeks, leaving cold sunlight to fall across the underbrush. "I find visualizing what I want easier."
I met his gaze once more, imagining his shock when I finally showed him my mastery over opposing two elements. Din's Fire would require actual fire for the next step, while Hebra's Breath would be...slightly more problematic with hiding my practice. "Thank you for your consideration, master. However... I wish to focus my efforts here a while longer before changing my methods."
A chill soaked into my legs again. Another application of the heating charm would be required soon. An unfortunate consequence of my only choice in pulling in any sort of cold energy before winter.
Master Ezlo gently tugged on his beard, eyeing me.
"Vaati..." he started. Ice ran down my spine at his tone. He had never sounded so...soft. "Why are you so suddenly interested in meditation? You've never shown the sort of patience that it requires. If anything, I would expect you to try sneaking into my study again to read from my personal collection!" He chucked lightly. The coldness around my face ebbed.
My tongue failed me. What was the best response here? Not denial, or defending my actions, because he was correct. I didn't have the patience for meditation. More accurately, I didn't have the time. Between my studies, lessons, chores, Master Ezlo's lectures, running errands, and herb-girl's unwanted opinions, time spent simply focused on breathing was useless! "M-master, I..."
"Oh lighten up, Vaati!" He thumped the butt of his staff against the ground. "Trying new things is good for you! Besides, you and I both know you won't be trying that again." The look he gave would have made me shrink away months ago. Now, it only looked ridiculous. A sort of half-hearted glare that served more as a reminder of my folly than an actual reprimand. "Now, once you're finished doing things the hard way, come back inside. I have a delivery to be made before dark."
That said, Master Ezlo turned away, and left.
I peered up at the sun shining through the trees. Distantly, I heard his front door shut.
He expected me to give up, then. Stop this foolishness and traipse off to whichever little village or cranny his customer lived in. Surely, that was a better usage of my time than sitting in damp moss all day.
Ordinarily, he would have been correct. Ordinarily, I would have been inside, devouring every book I could before being called upon to go deliver or receive goods.
He assumed my efforts in vain, because the Vaati he knew was in such a rush to learn everything under the sun that sitting down without anything to occupy his hands or mind was inconceivable. So of course his student wouldn't take much longer to come to his senses and do something more productive than simply listening to himself breath.
In a sense, I was still that same Vaati. I held the same aspirations of one day becoming a Sage myself, known throughout the Minish Realm and Human World alike. The only matters that had changed were my methods.
I reapplied the heating charm. Winter was another month off, and when it arrived I would be expected to remain inside most days, away from the snow and cold that draped across the land. Attempting to grasp the cooling charm wouldn't be possible then unless I wanted to gain attention by disobeying my master.
A month. Four weeks. Less than eighty hours to not only master the cooling charm, but complete the next steps of using Din's Fire. I could already create a flame between my fingers by fueling the heat beneath my skin and compressing it outside my body. After that, I was to expand the flame into a sphere then grasp it and force it to expand through me while destroying everything else in its wake. I had an idea on how to avoid being burned through careful application of the heating charm, but I required more time alone to test my theory!
Taking a deep breath, I refocused on my current spell. The cold was the absence of heat. It was energy, specifically the lack of energy, yet it could still contain magical energy. The cold was stillness, yet it would have to move through the body to cool it.
The river ran swiftly. The river was cold. My magic would have to flow like the river, carrying the chill with it, up my arms and down towards my feet. I couldn't force it, much like I could not force the river to run quicker or slower.
...The heating charm was energy, redirected at my whims. Wherever I wanted it to go, it went eagerly. There was a connection there, somewhere. Between sluggish energy and magic that crystalized into frigid pillars. Ice Wizzrobes performed the feat all the time between casting teleportation spells.
A lack of energy, a surge of magic. A lack of energy...
...Was that why I could barely tell if I was moving ice type magic through my body? The chill wasn't moving quickly, but if I could just grasp that magical energy...
...
"Vaati!"
I snapped my head up. The shadows had shifted. The sun was at a different angle.
It had drifted across the sky.
Evening was approaching.
Oh no!
"Coming, master!" I trudged through the river, the heating charm the only thing keeping me from it's icy grip, and ran back to Master Ezlo. He spent ten minutes berating me for falling asleep, and another five for being a sodden mess and having to mop up the puddles I left behind. Once the floor was completely dry, I took up the wrapped package he had sitting on the dining room table and hurried off.
By the time I returned to my room, it was past midnight. I collapsed into bed, any thoughts of practicing more magic having long vanished.
Morning sunlight filtered down through waving boughs. Through happenstance or serendipity, a single spotted mushroom lay directly in the path of a single beam of light. But only this early. Later on, there would be flickering shadows, making the seat completely useless.
The give beneath my back made this one of the better places to relax outside of my master's view. Oh, he would find me in due time. Breakfast would need cleaning up, then I would be sent to fetch water for the next lesson in potioncraft. Yet, for the briefest moments I had alone, I could allow my mind to wander. Relaxing the iron grip I kept on my impulses, I slowly released the churning thoughts that had been pushed down since the night before.
How...
How had I deluded myself into believing that sifting through decades of memories would be anything less than a tedious exercise in frustration?! Goddesses, I was a fool. Only "time consuming". "A good distraction". Was I really so naive to believe such tripe?
Banishment of unwanted pieces of either of us wasn't as simple as mentally stamping them out. They came back. They always came back! An hour of beating back that trivial feeling of pity from herb-girl and it barely weakened! What would happen when it was something much more urgent? Would herb-girl's pathetic ideas of empathy make me falter? Even worse... Would mine-Vaati's-my own ambitions become destabilized due to her influence?
Were my own ambitions in need of tempering to resist such an eventuality?
Morning had yet to even truly begin and already I could feel a headache coming on. Perhaps meditation would have some effect? There were some vague ideas between the two of us on how to accomplish that... Unfortunately, it would be yet another project that would take up more of my limited time. As loathe as I was to admit it, I would have to continue dealing with the conflicting thoughts as they came. For now, at least. Once in the Human World, there would be more time to focus on resolving the issue. Permanently.
"Vaati!" Ah. My time was up. "Come in, my boy! It's time to get started on today's chores!"
"Yes, Master Ezlo!" I called back. Carefully, I rolled off the mushroom and landed on a patch of moss below. Wiping every trace of frustration from my face, I walked back towards his home. No matter how irritating my situation had become, no matter how maddening the old man's repetitive stories were, I had to play the perfect apprentice. That meant no backtalk, no complaining, no scowling, no showing boredom during his lectures, and absolutely hiding my distaste for the lemons he used in his tea. Before the...accident, I barely bothered to hide my displeasure at...nearly everything. Master Ezlo would absolutely be suspicious of a complete turn around in my attitude, but with how often he would prank or intentionally needle me for a laugh... It was anybody's guess if he would even notice the change.
He obviously hadn't noticed how bad a state the fall had left me in. Or the sips of red potion missing from his stock.
Still. So long as I frowned here and there when he could see it, then straighten up, then perhaps he would believe I was yielding to his wisdom.
Once inside, I dutifully cleaned the dishes and set them on the drying rack. My breakfast was a few bites of dried strawberries, so there was only a single set to put away today. I dried off my hands - no moisture remaining, I had to be perfect - and set off for the potion room.
Master Ezlo was already there, setting out the ingredients we would need today. He glanced up from a jar of white powder. "There you are. Good. Go fill the buckets, will you?"
I nodded. "Yes, master." The acknowledgement was probably redundant, but it never hurt to put on a show of respect. After having to endure both a splitting headache and a twisted ankle in one night, the only value I held in him anymore was his expertise in the magical arts he had yet to teach me.
If he wouldn't accept my concerns as I presented them, if he would brush off his apprentice trying to tell him my head hurts and I feel dizzy, then he didn't deserve my respect!
Herb-girl's reasoning for reaching out should have been sound. It hadn't been.
For all the virtues he proclaimed that Minish should have in life, he certainly fell short of them himself. Selflessness, wisdom, kindness, perseverance, patience, temperance -- goddesses knew how often my master put in orders so he always had cider at dinner.
"All in moderation, Vaati! Ho ho ho!"
How he ever became a renowned Sage was anyone's guess.
Filling the buckets was a matter of minutes. A river flowed behind my master's home, deep enough to reach my chin. With both buckets filled, I looped the handles on either side of the shoulder pole and carefully made my way back. A task easier said than done as walking without spilling a drop was...a trying experience. Smooth, even strides helped, but too much momentum would send water sloshing out and onto the ground. Worse, if it happened while inside, Master Ezlo would put the lesson on hold while I mopped up the puddle.
Early days with my master had me scrubbing the floors more often than not.
Putting the pole down for a moment, I opened the door and wedged it open with a hefty stone. That done, I shouldered the pole again and made my way inside. Step by cautious step I made my way back to the potion room to rejoin my master. I bent down low and slid the pole off, allowing the buckets to drop a short distance to the floor.
The water sloshed. But not a drop escaped. Good. Now to go close the--
Master Ezlo brushed past me. I darted out of the room in time to see him kick the stone away and let the door close on its own.
"Good work, Vaati," he said. "Just don't forget to close the door next time."
A litany of curses in two tongues made an unholy choir in the back of my head. I was going to, I wanted to say. You didn't give me a chance. I didn't want to spill the water inside again.
The urge to let slip even one oath was great, if only to see my master's reaction.
That would be less than perfect, however.
Instead, I bit my tongue, swallowed my pride, and nodded. "Yes, master. I apologize."
He waved me off and gestured to the mid-sized cauldron suspended on an iron tripod above a recessed fire pit. "Let's get on with the lesson then, shall we?"
Finally. I filled the cauldron with both buckets of water, and laid eyes on the table with the ingredients for the day. Bright green mushrooms lay side by side with white ones, red ones, and brown ones. Translucent bug wings of a variety of lengths and colors were fanned out. A basket of blue chuchu jelly sat to one side. Every measuring cup was present as were a half dozen bottles.
"Today we'll be testing your knowledge on stamina potions."
I nodded. "Yes, Master Ezlo. How potent must it be?"
He had the audacity to laugh. "Enough to wake the dead! Make them as powerful as you can, my boy."
The oaths returned two fold. He had only shown me how to make them at the most basic level! To make them as powerful as they could be... He had to have known I would fail. He wanted me to fail.
Disgust. Defiance.
If that was his desire, it would go adamantly unfulfilled.
I would be perfect.
First was heating the cauldron. A quick application of flint and steel against wood shavings gave me the spark to light the fire. Next were the mushrooms. The bright green one was taken and chopped into halves then quickly chopped again, side to side, then turned and chopped again until I had the stamella half diced. Next, the wings. Cricket wings, the light brown ones, would do. Into the mortar it went, crushed to dust beneath the pestle. The resultant wing dust was poured onto a piece of parchment. Two wings from a ladybug were next as was part of a dragonfly wing. Sandy brown, well preserved. Both sets of dust had their own parchments put aside. Part of a particular stag beetle would have been more effective, but I only had what was on hand.
I checked the cauldron. Tiny bubbles were forming under the water. Good. My timing was impeccable.
I tilted my head. Was I missing anything? Chopping up the other half of the stamella shroom was needless in this case. It aided in restorative efforts, a necessity when pushing the body past its limits, and little else. The bugs parts would do a majority of the work in providing additional stamina. Mundane ingredients... Not sugar, that was reserved for red potions and other medicines. Salt would only neutralize the properties of the bug parts and ruin the potion utterly. The potion itself was only slightly bitter...
"Master?" I asked.
"Yes, what is it Vaati?"
"Do we have any leftover honey?"
He hummed. I refused to take my eyes off the water. "We might."
"May I use some for this batch of potions?"
"Hmm! Perhaps. Do you believe it essential for this task?"
I paused. Another test? I shook my head. The water was nearly boiling. Time was growing short. "Not essential, no." Deliberately, I turned to meet my master's eyes. "But it would make it taste better."
He laughed, long and loud. I could see his teeth as his threw his head back. "Very well! Go and get your honey. Quickly now!"
He needn't tell me twice. I ran for the kitchen, throwing open a cupboard door and grabbing the glass bottle that always sat next to the sugar. There wasn't much left, but a little was better than none. Taking an extra second to close the cupboard, I sprinted back into the potion room. The water was bubbling.
First went in two chuchu jellies, then one cup grasshopper wing. They were stirred in, counterclockwise ten times, followed by two cups ladybug wings. Ten more full circle stirs, then one cup dragonfly wing with another ten. Last was the stamella shroom, with fifteen stirs. Let boil for three minutes. Pacing or tapping a foot worked when a clock was missing.
I hadn't bothered checking for one. Not that I needed it.
At two and a half minutes, the honey was added. At three, I kicked a metal sheet over the recessed fire pit, choking it and killing the fire.
The bright green mixture sat there, mildly bubbling.
Master Ezlo hummed, grabbing the stirring paddle and briefly lifting it from the mixture. "The texture is slightly off, although that's probably due to the honey. We'll see," he said, releasing the stirring paddle and banging his staff once on the floor. "I'll check the effectiveness once its cooled. Why don't you grab yourself a cup of tea?"
And he would want one as well.
"I'll be along in a minute to have one myself."
Of course.
I nodded one last time, agreeing to make the tea, and left.
Perhaps this would be the day my efforts would be recognized. Perhaps Master Ezlo would see my dedication, my skill, and my talent, and realize how adept I had become. But I doubted it.
Now if only controlling the damnedable bleedover was as manageable as boiling water...
Walking from Master Ezlo's home to the next village took several hours, during which I began combing through both sets of memories. The appreciation for literature I kept, as did herb-girl's perchance for planning weeks if not months ahead. Routing to and from destinations with minimal time wasted, allocating funds, preparations for emergencies, and general management over what little time there was in the day. She had been busy, even when not in a depressingly tiny chamber. As an apprentice to a Sage, however, my schedule could not simply be blocked off to my benefit. My day revolved around the whims of an elderly man who would, at the drop of a hat, decide to take me aside and espouse the virtues of dedicating myself to those taller than myself. Mightier than myself. Who wouldn't, or couldn't, spare a single thank you for my work for the rest of my life.
...I tried asking why before. Why we Minish were supposed to dedicate ourselves to the humans. Why we must work, largely unseen, for those who wouldn't think beyond "oh, shiny rupee!" when stumbling upon one in the grass. His response?
Because it was the right thing to do.
No further reason. "It is right," he said, so I shouldn't be upset. "It is right," he said, so I must bow and scrape before a people I've never seen before, who in my spare set of memories couldn't care less for each other if they tried. "It is right," he said, so I should learn all he has to offer in order to serve them better.
I would learn from him. I would take every lesson, every spell, every last shred of information he had collecting dust on his shelves, until there was nothing left.
Until the door to the Human World opened, and I could finally see what lay beyond the portal myself.
That day was still a long ways off, however. There were basic charms and spells to understand in order to master the higher level ones. There were ancient legends and potions to memorize. Most importantly, at the moment, was consolidating a lifetime's worth of experiences with my own.
Such a dismal and mundane life it was, as well. A scant handful of skills were taken for myself, mostly of the pragmatic variety. For some strange reason, magic was dismissed as an impossibility in herb-girl's era. Miracles existed, apparently, yet they were rarely validated or outright disregarded depending on whom was consulted. They were never treated as magical in nature, however. Curious. But as I had no way of exploring the fragments of phenomena in herb-girl's memories, there was no use in pursuing them.
In almost no time at all, I found myself at the gate to the village. Kero pops, flowers that resembled frogs, were necessary for a restorative elixir. It was also, conveniently, a sweetener for master's favorite tea. With the order carefully tucked away in my bag, I began my trek back to his house.
At the thought of the bitter brew, herb-girl's memories stirred. Disgust. I nearly snorted. Fine. I would generously accept that, as well.
Perhaps sorting through these memories wouldn't be as awful as I first believed. Time consuming, certainly. Sorting through 40-odd years of memories would be an immense undertaking, spanning more time than I had to spare before the way to the Human World opened again. It would be a good distraction, in any case, now that I was certain who should be rightfully in control.
...Ah. Herb-girl apparently disliked being suppressed. What a pity.
She had her chance at life, and instead of attempting to escape her cage, she settled. She grew comfortable in her shackles. And ultimately died for it.
There were plenty of excuses scattered throughout her remnants, yes. A poor job market. Absurdly high rent. Basic necessities, food, and...insurance? Wasn't that a human scam? Though, a lack of potions and near-instantaneous healing could...possibly make health a viable market for some people, I supposed.
What a disturbing land herb-girl came from. Live in poverty or not at all. Vaati... Myself, I could live comfortably alone with the only need being to barter or forage for food and supplies. Any Minish could, truthfully. Humans could live just as simple lives as well, if they were willing to.
But they never would. Not intentionally. Or at least, not forever. Day by day, I was slowly realizing why.
Magic was real. Herb-girl's impressions left me utterly enchanted by the towering trees and spongy speckled mushrooms. Bright green grass swaying like saplings in the wind, while utterly mundane to the Vaati of the past, were hypnotizing. I was so tiny, the size of an ant, and world around me was gigantic and nearly enthralling.
Half of my time since the accident had been spent staring outside at sun dappled dirt, and beams of sunshine streaming through the canopy. Master had thought me lazy when he caught me, and assigned me further chores.
He'd sent me to clean the windows around his home, inside and out. It had been worth it.
My hand brushed away a stray drop of dew from a blade of grass. Yes, humans could do so much with magic at their fingertips, even if few even bothered to learn how. It was everywhere, after all. Ambient magic strengthened the body over time, so gradual none would even realize it happening. It allowed plants to grow in unsuitable conditions and grow quicker. It kept stilled waters purer a little longer. It was what Sages were able to call upon to hasten their spells as to not drain their own reserves.
Food grown in the earth was plentiful. Meat had more nutrients to those who consumed it. Those further strengthened the body in minuscule amounts.
I...the Vaati of the past had clearly not considered how much magic affected his world. When becoming ill meant a week or two resting, and a broken leg could be mended within a month, what purpose was there in specialty doctors that a witch or enchanter could not fix? When creating your own business didn't take weeks or months of paperwork, merely effort and proper planning, what need had anyone not to at least try staking their claim in the marketplace?
Humans clearly had no pressing need to come up with bigger and better products and inventions when their world provided them the luxury of choice.
Herb-girl had opinions about that, it seemed.
What was it Master Ezlo had said? Humans were ambitious and had the capability to do great things. Hah! Great and terrible things, perhaps.
I would see it all myself in due time. For now, it was only me, the forest, and the free floating thoughts of a once confined soul.
It was amazing how one bad fall could alter one's entire life.
I'd awoken, head throbbing, to the annual rings of my master's home spinning in the low lights of glowing mushrooms. Tomes of varying sizes and weight laid across and under me. Pages brushed against my legs, though I barely registered it.
No. What occupied my thoughts upon blearily staring at the ceiling were memories. Ideas, thoughts, experiences, and more that were not my own but inexplicably present within my own mind. At first, I believed them to be a result of the fall, the heavy tome I was reaching for near the top of the shelves having offset my balance. A brief bout of befuddlement that would soon leave me. However, as I further came to, the thoughts did not fade. They multiplied. Expanded. Little insignificant details latched onto ridiculous moments, which fed into delusional sights and sounds. Madness. That was the only word for it. A whole lifetime's worth of madness that battered my mind and insisted it was right. That it was truth.
A shorter lifetime's memories fought back, full of frustration and longing. Rage was met with apathy, despair intertwined with misery, stress tore apart fondness; scattered impressions and sentiments clawed for priority with images and opposing languages.
Then my master entered, and all such confusion was shelved in the face of an impending lecture.
That was two weeks past. My duties and lessons did not permit me to idly ruminate on the sudden intrusion of foreign concepts and imagery. There was always something to do, some exercise or lecture or chore that needed to be taken care of between my self-study sessions. The Minish Realm would be closed to the Human World for several years more, and if I wished to have anything approaching a plan for when the passageway opened, I needed to make the most of my dwindling time. Surely there would be something worth my while to pursue in the Human World. At the same time, there was little excuse not peruse my master's collection for whatever magicks he deemed worthy of his home.
The list of magic spells that Master Ezlo had amassed was...specialized, in a sense. They were mid- to high-level across a multitude of disciplines with the odd pragmatic enchantment slipped in. Basic spells were completely absent from his scrolls and books. The books he did have referenced the gap they would have otherwise filled as stepping stones to understand greater spells. Those gaps forced me to speculate how the missing spells would work, wasting my precious time when I could be doing something more useful.
My new -- old? -- set of memories somewhat...helped in that regard. Whoever "Heather" had been in life had immensely enjoyed fictional works of "fantasy". Particularly ones with detailed magic systems. Hardly a useful whit of knowledge when considering such dubious origins. Yet, my efforts had not borne fruit in months. What did I have to lose by testing the waters?
One of the precursors to Din's Fire was a simple heating spell meant to warm the self in colder weather. "Heather's" memories indicated several methods of attempting to summon fire. Visualizing, meditating, feeling "the fire within", chanting spells, rituals. What definitely would not work was firmly ignored and I set to work. In the end, after hours of trial and error, what finally worked was sitting on top a mushroom beneath a ray of sunlight and focusing on moving the heat throughout my body.
I tried again the day after. Beneath the sun, near glowing mushrooms, by candlelight. Anywhere there was light or heat I attempted the spell. Sometimes it went quickly, sometimes slowly, but it always worked eventually.
I almost couldn't believe it! Such a simple spell with such a simple method of harnessing it. It was laughable!
When Master Ezlo caught me, he scoffed, saying such a spell was beneath me. Said I had better things to work on than a cheap trick.
All that work, and he saw it as worthless! And worst of all, it was! What need had I for a body warming charm to access Din's Fire anyways?
'To keep the fire outside of you.' Heather's treacherous little voice whispered in my ear. I hated it. I hated her, the wretched herb-girl whose life was now suddenly in my head.
I could not even argue with the logic! If I knew how heat flowed into me, then I could feel how it flowed out of me and take shape in my hands.
When Master Ezlo inevitably gave me the weekly task to gather herbs, I knew I had to do something about the double set of memories. They clashed uncomfortably for the slightest and pettiest of reasons. Sleep eluded me more frequently as I attempted to banish or reconcile differences while going to bed. If Master Ezlo even bothered to notice, he said nothing.
With one of the ingredients he required in the next village over, I was free to finally focus on the absurdity I had found myself in.
I was Vaati, apprentice to Master Ezlo, the great Sage. I lived with him after begging that he take me on and proving myself capable of following his directions and casting a spell without an incantation. Once. He taught me potioncraft, minor enchantments, and the occasional spell to aid with household chores or foraging, but largely left me to study things for myself as I had proven to be self-sufficient. It was all an excuse in order to ignore me and drink tea all day in his study.
I was Heather, data analysis and bottom rung in a corporation that cared more for the bottom rupee-dollar than their own workers' lives. I worked 72 hours a week, barely eating, barely sleeping, stuck in a rut without end. When I had time, I read books -- any book -- preferably in the cool shade, and took any excuse to get out of the apartment and talk to people. Seemingly died from over-exhaustion and poor health.
Only one of these statements could be true. And yet, deciding which was which was difficult. Was I Vaati, having absorbed a human's memories and soul in some unseeing, unknowing way? Or was I Heather, having replaced Vaati entirely and absorbed his own experiences as my own? And when Master Ezlo found me, had I defaulted to his memories and followed everything he said to the letter because there was no other path?
Something inside me twisted, revolted at the very idea of Vaati being done away with so easily and unseen. Meanwhile, there was a disturbing sense of pity from the Heather side of my memories at the same notion.
Rage boiled in my gut. Pity? For me-him-her-us? The feeling was plucked, thrashed, and ruthless tossed aside like an unwanted weed. Pity. What need had I of pity? Nothing!
Such a disgustingly weak human, this herb-girl. First, death by overworking for those who saw no worth in her. Then this...this insulting impression! Such feeble thoughts had no place in my present or my future.
That sealed matters. Heather - herb-girl - was the intrusion here, not Vaati. Not me. I had her knowledge and experiences, which I would make good usage of, but everything else?
