The fields outside Embershade stretched out under a cloudy sky, the sun peeking through just enough to give the rolling grass a soft, silver sheen. Beyond the last forge lines and mining tracks, the smoke gave way to open air—sweet, clean, and filled with the hum of insects and wildflowers.
Audree walked slowly, hands stuffed into his pockets, a familiar weight in his satchel where the little Vaponea slime wriggled lazily inside.
He spotted his mother, Nora, bent low over a patch of bright green herb clusters. She worked with the easy grace of someone who knew the land by heart, plucking leaves and sorting them into neat little bundles.
He wandered over, kicking at a loose stone on the path.
"Need an extra pair of hands?" he asked.
Nora glanced up, her face lighting with a warm smile. "Always."
He knelt beside her, reaching carefully for a sprig of heartroot and slipping it into the basket she carried.
For a while, they worked in companionable silence, the breeze threading through the grass around them.
Then Nora spoke, voice casual but pointed.
"You're getting to that age where people start seeing you as an adult," she said, sorting herbs without looking at him. "Ever think about what you want to do?"
Audree paused, a sprig halfway to the basket.
"And," Nora added with a playful nudge, "got anyone you're interested in?"
Audree immediately flushed, nearly dropping the herb. He looked away quickly, fidgeting with his bracelet.
"No," he mumbled, a bit too quickly. "I—I mean—not really. I just want to get better at alchemy. That's the main thing."
He brushed a hand through his hair, trying to act casual.
"If it really came down to it," he said, a bit more steady, "I could probably find work at a bigger alchemy shop... maybe in a bigger town. Or just... stay here."
Nora smiled gently, but Audree could feel her watching him closely.
Deep down, he knew that wasn't the whole truth.
What he really wanted was so much bigger.
He wanted to be more than just a small-town potion crafter, patching miner wounds and brewing sleep draughts. He wanted to be something powerful. Respected. A mage.
The kind of person who made people stop and listen.
But no mana meant no magic.
The dream felt like a closed gate he could only press his face against.
A shadow crossed his expression.
Meanwhile, his slime companion wriggled free of the satchel, sliding across the grass and happily slurping up random flowers, leaving small glistening trails behind.
Nora noticed, but she didn't comment. Instead, she shifted, setting her basket aside and brushing her hands clean.
"You know," she said softly, "I understand we do this alchemy thing together. And I'm proud of you."
Audree blinked, looking up.
"But you don't have to do it," Nora continued. "Despite my... disdain for the city, I'm not going to stop you from looking for something that suits your true interests."
Her eyes softened. "And I think Ina would understand too. Despite her bark, you know she's not as tough as she pretends."
Audree stared at her for a long moment, his chest tight.
He hadn't realized how much he needed to hear that.
Nora smiled again—bright, a little sad.
"But that's a decision for later," she said, standing and dusting off her skirt. "When the time comes. For now..." She shooed him lightly. "Run along."
He hesitated.
Then smiled back—small, genuine—and gave a little salute before turning away.
As he walked through the field, the slime wiggling along happily beside him, Audree thought quietly to himself.
Maybe it was time to start thinking about what he really wanted.
And how, somehow, he was going to find a way to reach it.
—-------------------------------
Chapter Seven: The Spark of an Idea
Back at his usual spot—the charred clearing just past the quarry—Audree spread out his notes in front of him, weighed down with little pebbles and scraps of broken glass.
The wind tugged at the pages, but he hardly noticed. His mind was elsewhere, running in frantic circles.
There had to be a way.
He flipped through his notebook quickly, scanning old scribbles, discarded ideas, half-formed theories:
Mana crystal stability experiments
Binding lesser spells to reinforced objects
Rune translations (current progress: 87/4000) — abysmal
Theoretical self-sustaining alchemical mixtures
Mana extraction methods (extremely dangerous — don't do this without supervision. Or at all.)
Alternative spell-channeling methods (mostly failures, see margin notes)
He turned page after page, each filled with diagrams, messy annotations, and smudged ink.
Nothing felt right.
Until he found a page nearly forgotten at the bottom of his current work: The Spellbook Project.
Audree stared at it.
Simple. Crude. Possible.
The spellbook wasn't like traditional spellcasting. It was a blend: runes inscribed into the pages, reinforced with alchemical stabilizers, designed to "store" a spell's configuration. You'd need to chant to awaken the rune structure, mimicking the mana flow. The language had to match the spell's shape exactly—no room for error.
The real problem?
He needed mana to channel through the runes. Actual fuel. And Embershade's weak ambient mana, even the few crystals he hoarded, wasn't nearly enough.
Not without something—someone—helping.
He leaned back against the scorched stump, running a hand through his hair.
Yesterday's fire spell worked because I flooded it with objects charged with magic, he thought. But that took way too much material for way too little result. Real mages can feel the flow of mana, directing it like a river into the exact shape they want. I can't even feel the river.
He sighed, staring up at the gray, cloud-mottled sky.
There had to be a way.
A small plopping sound drew his gaze downward.
The Vaponea slime had wriggled free of his satchel again, happily gliding across the grass. Its body pulsed faintly, glowing in little ripples of blue and silver.
Audree stared at it.
Really stared.
He remembered the notes he copied from the library: "Vaponea slimes demonstrate understanding of water, force, and mana-based spells. Intelligence varies. Size can shift depending on emotional or mana state. Capable of temporarily splitting."
They weren't just mindless blobs. They had instincts. They responded to mana.
Audree's mind raced.
Maybe...
He crouched down, chin resting against his knees, watching as the slime burbled around a cluster of mana-thistle flowers, absorbing faint sparks of lingering magic.
"How would I get you to help me?" he muttered under his breath.
The slime turned slightly, sensing his voice, wobbling gently.
He drummed his fingers against his knee, thinking harder.
You can use mana.
You can split temporarily.
You can feel energy better than I can.
Maybe—maybe—he didn't need to be the channel.
Maybe he just needed a conduit.
Something to act between him and the spellbook. To funnel the mana into the runes, even if he couldn't do it alone.
He tapped his notebook eagerly, sketching a messy diagram: spellbook > runic activation > slime-assisted channeling > effect.
It was crazy.
It was half-formed.
It was probably stupid.
But it was something.
Audree grinned, heart pounding with the thrill of a new, reckless idea.
"All right, little guy," he said, crouching closer. "Hope you're ready to do some real magic."
The slime burbled happily.
Audree sprinted down the old gravel path, heart pounding against his ribs. The worn field stretched out before him—the one he always used for alchemy experiments. Burn marks still blackened the ground from yesterday's firework mishap, faint scars of ambition etched into the dirt.
He didn't even slow down.
He dropped to the ground in a cloud of dust, dragging out his notebook and a battered pencil, furiously scribbling as fast as his hands could move. His thoughts raced, tumbling over each other faster than he could capture them.
The first thing he sketched was a rough diagram—a simple, stable fire spell, with a clean rune circle carefully measured and spaced out. He even pulled out a ruler, painstakingly adjusting the lines, mumbling measurements under his breath.
Next to it, he drew something that, frankly, looked ridiculous:
Himself standing there, holding a spellbook in one hand, and on his other arm a small circular platform covered in runes—upon which a tiny blob of the Vaponea slime perched proudly.
Audree stared at the sketch.
It was rough. Sloppy. Almost cartoonish.
But it could work.
He flipped to the next page, writing quickly:
Project Spellbook (Audree's Method - Draft 1)
Concept:
Use the Vaponea slime as a living mana conduit—essentially replacing the natural mana pool that mages are born with.
Execution:
Create a runic platform attached to a glove, bracer, or armguard.
Inscribe mana-guidance runes that feed into the spellbook's active page.
When activated, the slime will passively fuel the runes, allowing me to direct spells through willpower and mental shaping.
Important Considerations:
The slime must only send ambient mana, not its core life energy.
A small split of the slime should be used to minimize the risk of harming it.
I'll need to create a basic mind-link to gently guide it—not a full mental merge. (Still need to research if that's safe.)
Risks:
Unstable mana link could feedback and damage the slime—or me.
Mental overexertion could fry the spell structure.
Spell failure could cause accidental ignition. (Or worse.)
Audree sat back, tapping the pencil against his mouth.
The biggest unknown was the mind link.
He'd read about it only once, in a fragmentary old tome: how certain witches and summoners could create basic sympathetic bonds with spirits or lesser creatures. Intent projection, they called it. Will shaping.
It sounded complicated.
It sounded dangerous.
But it was the only idea he had.
With the few runes he knew this could work. The runes were dangerous but the spell could only do so much. Right?
He glanced over at the Vaponea slime, which had managed to wriggle halfway up his boot, looking up at him with wide, blinking "eyes."
Audree sighed, smiling despite himself.
"I'm really hoping you're tougher than you look, little guy," he muttered.
Because if this worked... he wouldn't just be a potion-maker.
He would have a real shot at competing with real mages.
Fidgeting absently with his bracelet, Audree felt excitement bubbling under his skin—the kind that made it hard to sit still, hard to think straight.
He was so caught up in his planning, in the possibilities spinning wild in his head, that he didn't hear the soft footsteps behind him.
"Hey..."
The voice was quiet. Almost shy. Like whoever it belonged to wasn't sure if they should even be speaking.