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Dread Mage

Dread Mage Vellichor; feared and old; and someone who has mastered wizardry at its core, is bored of life and the strenuous actions of the bigger picture. He just wants small, but meaningful interactions with life. And he starts with a little dead girl he called Sonder. --- The chapters are what I call bite-sized, (only around 400 to 700 words), and I'll try to upload a chapter every day except for the weekend.

SolomonCliff · 奇幻
分數不夠
181 Chs

Chapter 138 - Tea Time

Sonder decided against continuing her efforts to connect with the water. She wasn't sure how long she had spent trying, but she knew she had been intensely focused, not wanting to waste a moment.

Feeling tired, she had made her way back to the house.

The thought of food crossed her mind, though it came more from habit than actual hunger.

Since she was raised, her appetite has been unpredictable, sometimes almost nonexistent.

Today was one of those days.

Still, she knew she should eat something, even if just something light.

But in the druid's territory, she wasn't sure what was safe to eat.

Everything here came from nature, and she struggled to imagine anything she could eat that didn't.

Sonder walked slowly back to the house, all the while having thoughts that swirled from one thing to another.

Her attempts to connect with the water had left her feeling drained, though not in the usual way. It was also a sense of frustration, as if she had been reaching for something just beyond her grasp.

Her thoughts then shifted to Vell. Maybe he had returned by now. She was curious about what he had been up to.

His atonement must have involved more than just replanting things, didn't it?

When she arrived at the house, she pushed open the door. It creaked in a way that seemed odd for a door made from natural materials without hinges.

Inside, it was warm and smelled strongly of plants. But Vell was still absent.

She sat down on a wooden bench.

And there was a strong smell of something that was familiar.

Mint.

Sonder sat down on a wooden bench and inhaled deeply. Amid the plant scents, one in particular stood out—mint. She glanced around and noticed a large patch of green and white plants growing beside the bench, almost looking like wheat.

An idea came to her. She got up and kneeled down next to the mint. She wasn't entirely sure how to go about this.

"Excuse me," she said, addressing the plant. "I don't know if this is rude, but could I have a few leaves for tea?"

The mint plant, if it was just one Sonder wasn't sure of, shook.

The plant shuddered slightly. She couldn't tell if it was a 'No' or if the plant was recoiling in horror at her question, but after a few seconds, some leaves fell to the ground. They seemed loose, or perhaps already near the end of their lives, falling so easily.

She picked them up. "Thank you."

Over by the stove, a kettle hung over the fireless hearth. She checked inside and found there was already water in it, but no firewood to start a flame. She hesitated. How was she supposed to heat the water without wood? Should she even try? She wasn't sure how the water would feel about being heated up.

Sonder didn't think the water would mind being boiled—it wasn't as though it wouldn't eventually return to its natural state, after all. Same for being drunk, if a bit more yellow.

With that in mind, she placed the mint leaves into the kettle, shut the lid, and slid her hands beneath it.

Though tired, she called out to fire.

The flame responded much faster than the water had, a small flicker appearing between her palms. It felt familiar, like the same flame she had summoned yesterday.

"Are you the same flame?" she asked, and it flickered in acknowledgment.

"I'm sorry, I don't have much mana left to give you. But could you stay long enough to boil the water?" she asked. The flame flickered again, as if to say it didn't need much.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice soft with relief. "I'll settle you beneath the kettle, alright?"

With a gentle breath, she placed the flame beneath the iron kettle. It flickered contentedly, ready to heat the water. Exhaustion washed over her as she sank back onto the bench, watching the flame do its work.