NEVRASMother and I traveled here once in our journey of exploration of the major areas of the New Earth, and because it was important for me to learn about actual climate change, versus the crap they called climate change. Galaxia''s weather changed more than that of coastal Virginia. Ambrosia, believing I had never been here, started acting like a tour guide. “Over here”, she said, pointing east, “is our inn and pub.” She continued, pointing to the west, “And over here, we have our general supply store. To the northeast is our weapon shop.” I looked around the town as she was speaking. It had been awhile, but the town had not changed at all. The town was covered in sand, with snowfields on most edges. There was a dock, but I didn''t trust it to get to whatever was our next destination, so we''d probably have to figure out something. The weather was currently doing a wintry-summery-mix due to the clash of desert and tundra weather. The buildings were made of some sort of industrial material I couldn''t pronounce, that was designed to basically ward off the weather and temperature, even when it shifted dramatically. “Over to the upper left is our armor shop. And here is...” She stopped. She tried to finish. Instead she collapsed into uncontrollable tears. She asked, “They aren''t coming back, are they?” I had no idea what she was talking about. “I have no idea what you''re talking about,” I said. She explained that this was her adopted parent''s place, and she had been there when they died. We decided not to visit this house while we were in town. Instead, we took in some more sights.

    Wandering about the streets, we met some Doomsayers. As everyone knows, Doomsayers, much like Seers, have the ability to see the future, but they could only see negative images. Everyone usually ignored them. This group of Doomsayers cried out, “Repent! For your doom is at hand! The Council will fall, war will begin, the State will return, and the Oracle will die. And then all will end.” At the last bit, they got my attention. “Excuse me?” I asked. The glared at me, “Ah, the Oracle. You are a loathsome sinner, and you shall never amount to anything. And God will punish all who...” Elias wasn''t known to fits of anger, but he had heard enough. He interrupted, “Get out of here! Now!” He looked at my downcast face and saw the hurt. He said, “Plenty of people will be hard on you. But you must remember, there are parts of what they said that are true...” I glared at him, as did everyone else. How dare Elias agree with my accusers?!? But he continued, “But those Doomsayers can only see the negative. You are the whole of you, not just your flaws. God loves us because he can see our entire worth. And as for this business of God as someone who punishes people... Most people punish themselves enough, so why should they expect this of God?” I felt better, but I still had questions. “Wait,” I said, “what do you mean by punishing themselves?” He explained, “Remember being so defensive earlier? You''d already decided I was judging you. It''s like that.”

    After seeing enough strange people outside, we needed a break. We went inside to the inn to relax. The inn had some guest musicians, from the looks of it, a policeman, a chief, and a construction worker. They said they were the descendants of the group named... the Villagers? We visited the armor store next. The owner wore a mask covering his eyes, and had a cape and... we headed to the weapon shop instead.

    The weapon shop was at least normal, but apparently it was a popular store. There was a line extending from the checkout counter all the way to the entrance. Ambrosia and I managed to push ourselves past the line, and scouted up ahead at the front. The guy at the front of the line had basically appeared to be frozen in place. I poked him. “Hey,” he said, “I''m still deciding, wait your turn!” This store had very good weapons, but all of them were behind the counter. Realizing that I would get nowhere waiting in this line, Ambrosia and I decided we needed to switch places with someone. We talked instead to the second person in line. This perky girl with pink hair heard our request, and nodded, “I''ve heard girls can''t fight or they''re weak, but I can wield a giant greatsword with the best of them. So they''re wrong!!!” Ambrosia agreed, “Guys are such jerks, aren''t they Nevras?” Was she trying to get a rise out of me? “Leave me out of this,” I said. The pink-haired girl continued, “I was gonna buy a big broadsword, but this line is taking forever. My name is Hoshi, by the way. Tell you what, I''ll move from this line if you can defeat me. And if you get me the sword I want, I''ll get you something good.”

    The battle was tough. I used my Speed Slash, but she managed to block all the individual strikes with what appeared to be a large metal pizza spatula. She sidestepped or blocked many of my other fancy techniques. I decided to switch away from the fancy stuff and go back to my fundamentals. When she swung her metal spatula around, I blocked. I looked for openings, slashed, dodged, and countered. It was tough, but eventually I caught her off balance. I knocked the weapon out of her hand, and knocked her on her back with the flat of my sword. She surrendered, moving aside. True to my word, I went ahead and bought her a greatsword. Her face filled with joy, “You''re so wonderful! Here, you can have this instead, I don''t need it.” She tossed me a Golden Bow in exchange. The Golden Bow was a crossbow that had achieved legendary status for the ability of its arrows to pierce even the toughest of armor. Crossbows are tricky though. They are pretty difficult to put together in the first place, to string, and to load. Even just assembling a crossbow requires that you attach a bow into the main section then hold it down while you pull a bow often made of hard metal back and try to pull up. In other words, with your feet you are pressing it down to hold in place, with your hands you are pulling upward, and somehow you need either incredible dexterity or an extra pair of hands, and you need incredible strength just to string the blasted thing. Thankfully, the bow was pre-assembled, but all the same, I couldn''t pull it. I gave it to Aqorm. She wasn''t really into bows, but she could probably make use of this. I had no desire to open Ambrosia''s emotional wounds, and we had done enough shopping. We left town.

    AMBROSIA

    We started in the direction of the shrine. As we headed towards there, a giant metallic disc flew by, way up in the middle of the air. The outermost and center-most rim was like the spokes of a wheel, and these two were moving constantly as the large object zoomed past. I blurted out, “What''s that weird thing off in the distance? It looks like a Flying Platter.” Nevras responded, “No, no, it''s a Flying Salver! See, it''s made of metal.” Elias offered, “Could it be a Flying Saucer?” All of us shook our heads, “Nah...” It was obviously too big to be a saucer. I guess he really doesn''t know everything. In any case, while we debated the proper word, the large disc zapped us with a beam. I blinked and it was night. Where had the time gone? And why did I have a sudden pain in lower parts? And why did I keep seeing weird grey men whenever I closed my eyes?

    We met with no serious resistance from any creatures, and made it to the shrine before the sun rose. The Negi Temple was ornate, with two spires on either side, arched windows, and all sorts of architectural features that I really don''t know the name for. On either side stood a statue roughly as tall as the building. The inside of the building was just as well decorated, with carved bookcases and large paintings of historical events. In the center of the temple stood and old... middle aged... young... infant, look the guy kept constantly aging and de-aging, okay?

    ELIAS

    “I am the Oracle Chronos,” he said, “my domain is over time and space, but I would talk to you about something else altogether. Ambrosia, have you ever experienced deja vu?” Ambrosia nodded, “Yeah. Why?” The chronologically-unstable man exposited, “The relationship between dreams and time, is nearly as interesting as the one between dreams and reality. People sometimes have dreams of that which is to come, called foretelling dreams.” He asked, “How often did you say you had this deja vu?” She answered, “Regularly.” He looked concerned, “Uh oh, this doesn''t bode well.” She looked confused, “I don''t understand, you just said deja vu was good to have! What''s wrong?” The man explained, “As I say, dreams are related to time and especially reality. If your dreams are distorted to the point where you are constantly seeing the future, there is something wrong with your sense of reality. If you have deja vu regularly, it raises questions about whether you are real.” Ambrosia showed at least some knowledge of existential theory here, “Wait a minute! If I can''t be sure of what''s real, then... This is your experience, too. You could prove it to me! You could tell me something that I have no way of knowing to prove it''s real.” The man shook his head, “Would there be any way for you to know that I''m not a dream image come to deceive you?” Ah, the Evil Genius theory. Ambrosia looked concerned. “I can''t really prove it...” she said, “but that can''t be right!” It was clear that this Oracle did not care for an outright battle, the point was to stress her out and get under her skin. And it appeared to be working. Ambrosia mumbled, “Think, Ambrosia! At any point do I have anything that can prove either way?”

    AMBROSIA

    I was always suffering on the streets. That seems real enough. But the whole mission from God seems like it would be too implausible outside of a dream. Everything from about Delphi onward also seemed too weird to believe. Why did I need Crest tattoos on my body? And why did I need to roam the countryside, talking to nutcases about stuff I''d normally never think of? On the other hand, some of the stuff I''ve heard is too strange for me to have dreamed it up on my own, that''s for sure!

    Among the strangest events I witnessed was on the Tsukuyomi Mountain, where that cat showed up and jumped into sheer air like there were platforms there. It''s hard to imagine that something like that would happen. But thousands of years ago, people couldn''t believe in magic or faith healing. Now, they''re commonplace. So stranger things could happen, I suppose?

    Two weeks before I went on my journey with Nevras and the others, one night, I was attacked by a pack of rats. I was gravely wounded, and lost a lot of blood. But when I woke up the next day, I was fine. I gasped. Oh no, could it be...? Is this all just a dream? Am I, in fact dead? There''s no other explanation that makes any sense. I''ll accept it.

    GOD

    When Ambrosia started believing in her own death, her body could no longer support her. It happened more gradually that her body spontaneously giving out and her collapsing in a heap, but this is usually the way with humans. Losing faith in yourself isn''t an instant death affair, not unless you just stop breathing or eating. They stop believing in themselves, then they start failing. Chronos didn''t accept her analysis of the situation. She failed to get the Crest. She couldn’t continue her journey. And so on. Eventually, she settled by stages into a pattern of boredom and lethargy, until at last she died. I sighed. As deaths go, this is the one I least like to see happen in humans. Even staying home and writing a novel would be better than this sort of slow death of heartbreak. Reset.

    AMBROSIA

    I feel like these thoughts are familiar. But I wanted to choose a different path this time. I couldn''t accept things as they were.

    All those experiences, all those times we had together, they must be real! It must be that God wanted me to live through that event, in order to carry out his mission, and that is why I have no wounds from that incident! There''s no other reason for why I''m still alive. And how could my time with Nevras be false? No, I will deny this dream, and continue to pursue God''s mission.

    I noticed that I had been speaking aloud for much of this time. The others were staring. I spoke, “I claim the Crest of Chronos, Oracle of Time!” My hand began to glow again where the Crest was. With it, more memories came. Only, this time, it wasn''t my past that I remembered so much as having total recall of all times reality was reset by God. I was now about halfway done with my quest. Of course, I was later to learn that things were not quite this simple. By the way, I was still speaking to myself... Sёarch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    THE WORLD

    Deep underground, a small group olgoi khorkoi wormed their way out of a group of rocks. Hungry for food, they had managed to tunnel a cave in the mountains to the south of a shrine. They were much relieved that the land here was not like the frozen wasteland there. Soon they would have a long-overdue meal. And the area smelled of snake meat...

    Elsewhere, the Phoenix castle was in an uproar. Permit me to rewind the action slightly, to about three hours ago. The man sat in the hall, a knife in his belt made from cold iron. Cold iron was different from regular iron, in that it was widely regarded as more incorruptible or pure (“cold” because it repelled other things), as it could reflect incoming magic, rust, and magnetism, and it was toxic to magical creature like fey or ghosts. It was regarded among metals as master of them all. Cold iron only became this way as a result of strong use for a purpose; for example, a sword always used for war, heirlooms always in service of a family, or money and tools with religious association. The process of repeated use for a single specific purpose changing the properties of the metal was known as “becoming Faithful.” It was a reaction that changed the Original Intent of the object, and so great was the reaction that the metal could break if abused.

    The man had been invited as a messenger. King Charis eyeing him, realized that he was too far away to be heard. Charis ordered, “We give you permission to step closer, messenger. Why are you here?” He mumbled. Victoria asked, “I cannot hear you. What is word from Kushiyama city? Please advance to the center of the room and repeat your message.” The man did indeed advance. As he did, he spoke. “I said, my message was that I was ordered to kill you. They promised to make me a baron if I succeeded,” he paused, “and you have put me within striking distance. Thank you.” So saying, he rushed forward, drawing his knife. The King was ready for the attack, however, and dodged out of the way. The assassin tried again, circling around him, and trying to stab from odd angles. This time, Charis stood his ground, and blocked with the sword; however, he never drew the blade, blocking instead with the scabbard. He did this at blinding speed, as though the assassin was going in slow motion. Victoria said, “Wait. Let me help.”

    As has been said, cold iron repels magic and magnetism. But psionics isn''t either. Soulfires are users of psionic abilities, which are divided into broad categories. Of these, the most common were Telekinesis, Healing, Shielding, and especially Pyrokinesis. Victoria wasn''t quite a master, but she was adept at Telekinesis. The cannonball nearby had been frequently used, it was also cold iron, so were the manacles the would-be assassin was bound with. They could have killed him, but instead they gave him bread and wine, they helped him out, and spoke to him. What he said is not recorded here, but afterward they set him free again, to live his own life. The palace was in an uproar, as I said. But it was because of the assassination attempt, not its aftermath. The would-be baron, far from returning home was now kneeling to his King. He didn''t want to serve other masters.

    AMBROSIA

    We made our way out from the shrine only to find that an opening had appeared in the nearby mountain, which was good, since the boats nearby weren''t really going anywhere. It was weird, though, I hadn''t heard or felt an earthquake... It was then that I saw my worst nightmare. More of those giant worms, this one was coming towards me right now.

    As I say, these worms are giant burrowing critters that eat all kinds of stuff. They like compost and meat mostly though. Not that they''d eat us, they only eat carrion and maybe trash. Rather than just suck us up whole, these things were far more likely to eat our pumpkin, our snake meat, and the rations we had. I had also picked up some haggis after too much eating strange food on the road; after all, I needed something normal.

    Needless to say, they headed straight for our backpack. I wasn''t about to allow that to happen. The others were fighting their own worms, but it was time for me to take revenge for those worms that stole my meat earlier. You dirty worms!

    The worm lunged forward, yet I went with the flow, dodging its charge like a leaf pushed aside by the wind. As I stepped to the side, it drooled its paralytic saliva, but before it hit me, I instead rode on its back. A moment ago, I had hooked the olgoi khorkoi with my fishing pole, and like worms everywhere, it had an irrational need to become attached to a hook. The other worms, seeing the dreaded device, fled for their lives, but I managed to hang on for dear life. The critter was headed for a rock mass, apparently about to dive underground. I drew my knife and cut the line, giving the worm a quick stab so I wouldn''t fall off and be crushed.

    The reaction was immediate. The worm reeled in horror, and turned sharply to the right, scraping against the rock in the process. As I was riding on it, it scraped my leg hard and I slid off the beast. I let the knife drift down the segmented frame. Worms can regrow their tails, but a long cut across their body is another matter. The severed body twitched a bit, then quit. I had to kill rats in this past, but this was different. I had killed for no reason other than revenge. And watching a creature was only trying to feed itself breathe its last was somehow very sad. Worse, after they died, a bunch of protesters followed us with signs. ?Save the Worms!? read one. ?Khorkoi are not Vermin? read another. Actually, that''s exactly what they are.

    As the crowd had blocked the entrance to the cave, we decided to walk around. Searching around the area, we found an old windmill. Inside, we saw a couple and two things. These two other... things were some sort of mud beings.

    ELIAS

    Those are golems. They are creatures of earth or stone or cobbled together materials, which are animated by some means. The original golem was a being of solid stone with the word ??? (spelled “emeth” or Truth) written on its forehead. According to legend, it was able to perform any tasks the user required, and if it needed to be deactivated , it was a simple matter of erasing the first letter, making it ?? (“meth” or Death). And yet, these things seemed to be active for years, despite how easy it was to deactivate them.

    A golem is mostly nonliving, although it can be made from organic parts, like kelp or fungi. These parts may themselves be alive even if the golem itself is not, making it possible to have a golem covered with mushrooms. This drew scholarly debates between the magical research communities whether if enough parts of a golem were replaced while retaining the inorganic core, the golem could be considered alive, which in turn deeply offended the chimera-lovers, who only believed their creatures could be called living, having been spliced genetically or in some cases stitched from live animal and/or plant parts. They did have a point.

    AMBROSIA

    Ummm, right, so they were called gollums. We talked to this man, asking him about these weird creatures. One of them was apparently male, and carved from solid stone. The other looked like a crude female. She was made from clay and her hair was grass. From asking them, we learned that the guy was Aerwin, and was the builder of these creatures. The woman, who was obviously married to him, introduced herself as Fiore. Aerwin told us, “I once lived a life filled with loneliness and despair. But in my desire to fix this, I crossed lines of science and morality. Still, the end result was worth it. Because I created life to keep me company, I gradually became more outgoing. The creature I created originally to take the place of a true love taught me how to love others, and I found my own match in the town.” Apparently, from what we could gather, this man built the female critter first to act as a sort of surrogate love interest, to keep him from getting lonely. From what Elias tells me, normally such things wouldn''t have real feelings, but ball of clay made from runes developed something similar to a soul. The lady thing started talking back to him and having real conversations. He was afraid when he brought a lady from town home, she would freak out. Instead, the lady told him to make a lover for this mudwoman. From the looks of it, they looked like they are ready to have a child. The woman, not the mudwoman.

    After a while in there, we explored other places. A Lantern Seller had taken up camp outside the cave. I bought a lantern for about 750 Gold to replace my old one, which apparently lit without the use of oil. The lantern was powered by Lightning-bug Enticing Drawings (LED), these had makeshift runes written on sorcerer''s alloy, or sometimes jade, both of which had the ability of spell-etching (which meant regular writing could become runes without sacrificing mystic power). This was a tremendous boon, as normally every time someone enchanted something, the mystic power of the caster got permanently embedded in those runes until dismissed, which permanently reduced the total mystic power of the caster. This meant that everyone making magical objects either had to figure out a loophole to indirectly enchant things, or find themselves at a very real risk of permanently running short of mystic power. The LED lantern was no Glow Orb, but it was made using indirect methods so that it could be mass-produced.

    For 250 more Gold, she offered to throw in a bag capable of holding eight bombs. The fuse of the bomb had a striker on its side that lit the bomb, from there the holder would have about ten seconds to drop or throw the bomb before it exploded. It was very powerful both as a weapon and a tool, but in accordance with Dungeon Safe guidelines, it was not designed to destroy any walls/floor that were not already visibly cracked. The Council had spent a lot of time with alchemists creating bombs that would behave just so, even though it was not consistent with how the laws of physics normally worked.

    The Lantern Seller also tried to sell us mounts. People over the years have tried to ride a number of things, and thanks to the power of runes, could usually get away with charming creatures to buy time while they trained them as mounts. And of course, alchemy also was involved with making mechanical vehicles. She was trying to sell us ostrogoths, a type of four-legged flightless bird with a jet black “mane” of feathers capable of extreme speed enough to run over water. I refused. Not only were these expensive, but the speed they traveled was deadly for an inexperienced rider like us, if we fell or were thrown. We would also miss all the scenery.

    Elias wanted to take Aqorm in to see the Great Library, so we headed over there. The place was huge. It was a giant library built on a rocky shore overlooking the beach. As every school child knows, because of the poles being at an west-east layout rather than a north-south, the sun rises in the north and sets in the south. This also means that areas off to the far eastern or western corners of the globe generally get almost no sun. I''m told that there is some reason why Kushiyama has relatively temperate weather while all around it is snow. It was something about a Lamb keeping people warm despite the hostile weather. I don''t understand it, but maybe they huddle under this guy''s fur. Anyway, a beachfront property to the east was ideal for viewing the sunrise and sunset. Not that we would want to stay overnight.

    The inside of the building was a 15-floor warehouse. As with many libraries of this sort, the nonfiction was categorized by number followed by a name (such as 299 Tao) while the fiction had a category marker followed by a name (LP Alt for a large print book by John Altman), with some large print nonfiction just to further confuse people. I concluded that all librarians are evil and/or insane.

    Each floor was by category, with the second floor upward divided halfway with a large back room that functioned as a space for the librarians to rest and relax, from the looks of it. First floor and top floor, however, stretched all the back. The first floor was fiction divided three ways LP, YA, and J (large print, young adult, and juvenile). Second floor was for regular fiction, while third was B for biography. Fourth through thirteenth floors were nonfiction from 000 to 999, split by hundreds, subdivided by decimal points in some way I couldn''t understand. Fourteenth floor was OS (over-sized books), some of which were large enough that they couldn''t be moved without help. The top floor, as I mentioned, was the only other floor besides the first that led all the way back, ending in a group of stairs to a roof exit overlooking the sea. That must be where I saw earlier that had such a nice view of the ocean. This floor was marked under categories with THM, DIV, MYS, S, and BLU. I couldn''t make sense of it. I wonder what those are about?

    ELIAS

    Our library also had a hidden reference section, but only the librarians were to know about this. To answer Ambrosia''s question, those symbols stand for the following. THM was for Thaumaturgy, for books of magic. These were books that taught magic to others, and usually each book contained the theory behind just a single spell, or a group of closely related spells. The wonder-worker would often wind up recopying the contents of the book, compressing an entire effect into a few words. Because of how complicated it was to learn a new spell, a prepared spellbook wouldn''t help anyone as only the writer understood their spells. DIV stood for Divinity, I was a scholar not a cleric, and learned my prayers like spells, whereas clerics simply prayed for effects and let whoever they prayed to (usually God) carry it out. MYS stood for Mysteries, and had the larger theory on basically anything in reality. This section had books on the theory of sorcery, alchemy, or martial arts techniques too, essentially being a catch-all for books written for those trying to learn secrets. Still, since these often used riddles to guard their secrets, many of these remained Mysteries. S was for Scrolls, and these were assorted vellum scrolls, and could be subdivided by tacking on another prefix, such as S THM for a scroll about Thaumaturgy, S MYS for a martial arts scroll, or S 900 for a scroll depicting historical events. Finally, BLU stood for Blueprints, these were divided between architectural, engineering, and alchemy blueprints. These were never subdivided as S BLU, since the average blueprint was made of foil/laminate, and wasn''t mixed with common vellum

    Now, the average person may ask why these weren''t in the floors below. The simple answer is that these did not belong with other books. Scrolls and Blueprints did not even properly fit on shelves, they were instead placed in clear tubes which were in turn placed in barrels. Mysteries were everything from spiral notebooks, to tract pamphlets, to actual paintings, to baked or carved tablets, to bound books filled with poetry, art, or riddles. Divinity books tended to push secular books away from them, while the Thaumaturgy category were unreadable if you had no magical potential. While many of the books below had a simple rune to prevent removal from the library, some of these were so dangerous that they were chained so they couldn''t leave the immediate area.

    Ambrosia proceeded to read several kid''s stories. She started with The Giant Ever-Exploding Head, ?Once, when humanity was still young, a man wished he could watch humanity forever, as a giant head. However, years of viewing violence, betrayal, and cruelty ultimately made his head explode into a million pieces. Since he had wished to be able to watch forever, his head reformed itself, but every now and then, his head explodes again. Be careful what you wish for, it may be granted.? By the way, kid''s stories nowadays don''t have all that terrible censorship so kids get all that unwholesome goodness. The only essentials to a children''s book are short length and a moral lesson.

    She read another one, Attack of the Killer Snowmen, ?Long ago, in the snowy plains there was a man who enjoyed crafting snowmen and snow-women. The townspeople warned him. "Raise up no more snowmen than you can safely put down." But, he was arrogant, so he didn''t listen. He crafted a whole village filled with snowmen, snow-women, snow-squirrels, snow-dogs, snow-trees, and snow-houses. Then he used his secret snowcraft technique to animate them. The town was abustle with movement, and began to roll snow into trade goods. But the townsfolk feared the army of snow-folk which had been made overnight, and they refused to buy goods made from snow. The snow-folk began to suffer, and in anger they started rolling snow-swords, and snow-cannons The townsfolk fought valiantly with their torches, but their numbers were too great. The next morning the entire town was frozen solid, except for the house of the snow-builder. The snow-builder then swore revenge on the snow-folk, praying for sunlight to come destroy them. But it never came, since this was the town of Winter. And so he got over his revenge, and lived peacefully with the snow-folk?

    After that, she read The Bloody Pet Shovel, ?Long ago, before society was like it is today, there was an old woman living by herself in a hut. She often wished she had a son or daughter to take care of, or someone for company. One day, she was buying supplies when she saw an old shovel in the shop. "Perhaps," she said, "I could convince myself that this shovel is my child." As she was getting senile, she figured it would be only a few years before she believed this anyway. So she came home with the shovel, and placed it in a chair. When it was time to eat, she moved it to the dinner table, and when it was time to sleep, she moved it to the bed. But the shovel would not eat, and would not sleep. So she asked the local Druid to animate the shovel, to have a companion. The Druid told her, "Give it blood for three years, and it will live as your child." The old woman told the Druid''s advice, and soon began to feed her blood to the shovel, coating it with the fluids of her body. The shovel began to hop around, and did chores for her. For a time she was happy, but gradually as she gave blood she began to get weaker. She called the Druid back and asked another favor. "I am getting weak, would you watch over my shovel?" The Druid stayed to take care of her, and gradually as she was losing blood, the shovel began to notice, and hopped toward the garden. The shovel dug holes, and planted crops and herbs for her to eat, and the Druid helped raise them. Gradually, the woman recovered and awoke from her weakness. When she awoke, the shovel was nowhere to be found. Instead, a young girl was found digging holes and planting herbs in the garden. The woman, the girl, and the Druid lived together in the house for the rest of their lives.? Ambrosia was weeping by the end, as was Zoe. I didn''t really get it, but Aqorm seemed to like it so I let her enjoy it.

    I decided to also do some light reading. I picked up a book known as 道人怡 or loosely translated as The Way. It appeared to be a treatise discussing why Taoism and Christianity were both called the Way, and how this wasn''t one of the devil''s tricks but rather both teachings were an incomplete part of a complete truth. I read some of it, ?Heaven and Earth are in accord with the Tao. Humanity can observe the Tao, yet like all laws, we can never measure up. Can a human ever be as nurturing as the Earth, always giving bounty? Can a human ever be a open as Heaven? Live in harmony with nature, yet remember what it is to be human. Your failings may be forgiven, for this too may be the Tao of humanity.? I decided this book was garbage and tossed it back on the shelf in disgust. Next I picked up a book called The Story of God. It was about how God created the earth as a result of extreme loneliness and boredom, and how men and women were as a result of God separating himself off. Azrael had begun to read a small stack of books on Exorcism. “Hmmm,” she said, “I can definitely use this to improve my technique.” I realized that if she were to keep reading, I would perhaps become irrelevant. Aqorm would insist that I got left behind because I wasn''t as talented. I decided to get studying.

    I found several books on the art of alchemy, and spending the afternoon learning how to brew several potions from commonly found materials. I made Potions from herbs, High Potions from Potions, High Mana from Mana Waters, and I was even able to make a Frog Tonic. I was a long way from turning other objects into gold or making a Philosopher''s Stone, though.

    I also learned that there are two types of alchemy that blueprints can be used for. There is Synthesis and Crafting. Crafting is manually objects like potions, while Synthesis uses a supernatural effect to transmute matter using an alchemy circle. Synthesis allows mass production of okay quality items. This is fine for laying wood on a circle and converting it to a canoe. But synthesized items don''t last more than a few days of use, so a lasting item like a house is not advisable, though making a temporary hut would be sufficient. This is precisely because when a person making something with their hands, Original Intent develops in response to construction, while neither Synthesis nor runes can produce Original Intent. Synthesized items are also barely real, so while I can perhaps synthesize temporary vehicles or tools, trying to make bread or other food using Synthesis... it would wind up being completely tasteless. It was junk food.

    But Alchemy was not just about making items, there were blueprints also about elemental alchemy. Despite my poor elemental magic proficiency, I could still use this. Alchemy was a science after all. Using the Second Corollary of Catalystic Sacrifice, it was determined that “every object has stored potential energy used to create effects.”

    I studied a few basic blueprints, but focused mainly on understanding potion crafting and Elemental Synthesis instead. I learned a few of these Elemental Synthesis: Fire Bomb, Ice Canister, Lightning Rod, and Wind Shears. Since we already had an All-Terrain Vehicle, we had no need to build temporary transports. Ultimately, I left most of those blueprints untouched, focusing on using my alchemy for healing and combat.

    Having thoroughly studied, we decided to take a break. We entered the chamber that walled off much of the 2nd to 14th floors, and visited with my old teachers. I had grown up around these librarians and scholars but they weren''t very talkative, and I couldn''t remember half of their names. After a rest, and a pot luck dinner (we added our snake meat to a rice dish, while they brought several vegetable side dishes, along with a main course of roast chicken), we once again set out on the road. The tender, almost fishy taste of the snake left us wanting more. Thankfully, the protesters had gotten over their nonsense, and the path to the nearby cave was once again clear. Damned hippies.