by A F Kay
Sift showed Ruwen how to adjust the heat and how to cool the water bath. “You good?”
“Safety stuff?” Ruwen asked.
Sift pulled out a drawer at the end of the table, and Ruwen put on the smock and glasses he found there. There were other items as well, but he didn’t know their purpose, so he left them alone.
“Okay, I’m good,” Ruwen said.
Sift walked to the next bench and flipped through his book. Ruwen looked at all his ingredients and wondered if any of them were dangerous. He turned to his book again and flipped to the back. As he suspected there was a glossary, and he skimmed down until he found Gintyl Leaf.
The entry listed the general uses for it and where it could be found, which to Ruwen’s surprise, included more than one world. It also listed any safety concerns or if it needed special handling. Finally, it listed all the pages where it could be found in the book. Ruwen looked up all his ingredients, but none were dangerous. Satisfied he’d taken all the necessary precautions, he set up his table.
Ruwen loved working in the lab. Mixing ingredients together to create new things excited him. He completed the recipe from start to finish with a single beaker, noting how much time each part took. With this new knowledge, he determined he could make them in batches of ten and still be paying close enough attention that he didn’t ruin anything.
He was on his sixth batch when Sift came over.
“I’m getting tired. You going to be much longer?” Sift asked.
Ruwen had utterly lost track of time. He really wanted to make a hundred of them, so he’d be able to keep ten for himself. And the truth was he wasn’t tired at all. In fact, since waking up from his Cultivating, he hadn’t felt tired at all. He felt amazing.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to get to one hundred,” Ruwen said.
“No problem. You know how to get back.”
Ruwen nodded and placed his palm over Sift’s outstretched fist.
“See you later,” Ruwen said.
He focused back on his task, and the world around him disappeared. The preciseness of the lab made his brain happy. When he finished the tenth batch, he almost started another but managed to stop himself. Blapy had absorbed nine of every ten swabs he made, but he now had a stack of ten himself. It was a nice round number, and if he kept going, his brain would make him go to fifteen. He placed the ten swabs in his Void Band and looked at the bench fondly. He wished he could take it with him so he could do it while away.
A thought occurred to him, and he placed his mark on the bench.
“Mobile Alchemy Lab,” Ruwen said.
The benches next to Ruwen disappeared, and a box the size of a wagon appeared. Ruwen yelped and looked around. He couldn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean much. Swallowing hard, he put his wrist back on the bench and tried again.
“Small Mobile Alchemy Lab,” Ruwen whispered, terrified it might be bigger than the wagon. He really should have just walked back to the book and found what he wanted there.
The huge box sunk into the floor and the benches replaced it. Nothing else reappeared, and Ruwen’s shoulders slumped. He turned back to his bench and found a wooden cube about two feet per side sitting there. Ruwen reached out and touched it.
Tring!
The Black Pyramid has loaned you…
Name: Mobile Alchemy Laboratory, Small
Quality: Fine
Durability: 100 of 100
Weight: 30 lbs.
Replacement Cost: 1,296 Black Pyramid Tokens
Description: Mobile lab for Alchemical creations. You break it, you buy it.
The stained wood looked almost black, and Ruwen ran a hand over the top. A latch caught his finger, and he carefully pried it up. As soon as the latch released the box unfolded itself slowly, as if hidden gears and springs controlled it. The sides of the box spread outward and looked like two open arms. The top folded backward and formed a small pyramid with the rear of the box. Many of the same types of beakers, flasks, and glassware he’d just used were packed efficiently on the box’s shelves.
“Blapy, you are so amazing,” Ruwen said.
Ruwen carefully pushed the box back together and latched it. Wrapping his arms around the heavy box, he pulled until almost half of it hung off the bench. He opened his Void Band about three feet to fit the alchemy lab and tried not to panic at the flashing twenty on his Energy bar. He had two hundred and forty-seven Energy now, which gave him twelve seconds to get this done.
Holding his left wrist close to the table, he reshaped the Void Band until the alchemy box hung over a black hole. Praying this worked and he didn’t destroy it, he pulled the top of the alchemy box downward. For a moment, it didn’t budge, and then the entire box tilted forward and immediately slid off the table. Ruwen flinched, expecting there to be some sort of impact on his Void Band, but nothing happened. One moment the box had been teetering on edge and the next it had disappeared. Ruwen hadn’t heard or felt a thing.
The same notification appeared that he’d seen after taking the Blood Moss. It had a timer, which had already started counting down from 10. Ruwen quickly read the notification to make sure it hadn’t changed.
Notice: A living entity has entered your Void Band. Estimated energy consumption to sustain additional life: 0.25 energy per second. You are currently consuming 0.20 energy per second. You have 10 seconds to make one of the following choices:
Choice 1: Remove the entity.
Choice 2: Select Yes, incur the energy cost, and sustain the entity’s life.
Choice 3: Select No, and the entity will perish
He selected Yes, and the notification disappeared. His Energy bar flashed yellow as he dropped under 25%. Ruwen realized he’d kept his Void Band open this entire time and immediately slammed it closed. His left wrist stung from the force, and he rubbed it. Reading that notification while his Void Band was open had almost killed him. He remembered Bliz telling him the ways he’d died being stupid and careless with the Void Band. Now, barely a day later, he’d almost had his own story.
The alchemy box must have some live ingredients in it. Since the cost had been so low, it must have been plants. Ruwen’s constant energy drain between the Blood Moss and alchemy lab was 0.45 energy per second. His Regen was about 2.5 per second, so that gave him plenty of buffer.
He had other notifications that had remained minimized, and he opened them. They were all identical except for the level. He kept choosing Accept until he got to the last one.
Shing!
You have advanced a skill!
Skill: Alchemy
Level: 10
Effect: Alchemical creations gain a 5% increase in success and effectiveness.
That was fantastic. It felt good to have his work result in tangible increases in his skills. Before Ascending, it felt like everything was a waste of time. But that wasn’t true, the hours he’d spent in the lab at school had allowed him to advance more quickly now. Nothing was really ever wasted.
Glancing at his clock, he realized he’d spent the entire evening here. It was almost midnight, and he wasn’t even remotely tired. In fact, since the Cultivation, he had been buzzing with energy. The truth was, the Cultivation situation scared him, and he knew part of his obsession in the alchemy lab was to avoid thinking about it.
He had very little idea what had actually happened, and Sift’s parents had already made it clear they weren’t going to do anything further. They had given him the first twenty standard quests that would get him to Apprentice, and they had expected that to take decades, not hours.
If he went back to his room now, he would lay in bed and think about the terrifying ball of energy in his body. He didn’t want to think about that. Back home, he would have shelved books until he was too tired to stay awake.
Shelve books.
There was a library of sorts here, although it was a disaster. Sift said that the first level would be safe for weeks, so it wouldn’t be dangerous to go down there. It had made him sad to see all those
books scattered around the room.
He walked out of the alchemy lab and touched his mark to the wall.
“Library.”
A portal opened, and he stepped through.
Chapter 30
The library didn’t look the same. Books still lay scattered everywhere, but the shelves along each wall had been repaired, and the tables and chairs were fixed as well. Brightly lit chandeliers hung every ten feet filling the room with light. He hadn’t noticed the hanging lights earlier, but whether he’d missed them before or if they’d just been added, they were a welcome addition. It appeared Blapy had noticed his small attempt to organize one corner of the room and had taken steps to allow him to continue.
“Thank’s, Blapy,” Ruwen whispered.
“You’re welcome,” Blapy replied.
Ruwen jerked at the sound and then flushed. He had to stop thinking he was alone. No one was ever alone in the Black Pyramid. Blapy sat on a table to his right. She clutched her stuffed centipede in one hand and a book of animal drawings in her other.
“You’re jumpy,” Blapy said.
“I’m just not used to people appearing out of thin air.”
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”
“I’m not very tired.”
“Why are you doing this?”
That question had a hundred answers. Most of which involved the new energy inside Ruwen, and he didn’t want to talk about that. “Habit maybe? I help out in the library back home. Shelving is a great way to discover new books.”
“You’re looking for new books?”
“Kind of.” He really didn’t want to talk about himself, so he tried turning the conversation. “Where did all these books come from?”
“From the people who visit me. A momentary contact with a book or journal is all I need to duplicate it. For instance, I now have copies of all the textbooks you brought on Uru’s Classes.”
Ruwen remembered Blapy talking about the gods adventuring here. Is it possible that some of their writing might be here?
“That would make this an incredibly valuable library,” Ruwen said.
“Everything about me is incredibly valuable.”
“I believe that.”
“The really interesting things are the esoteric writings in languages lost to mortals long ago. So book borrows are rare.”
The word esoteric triggered a memory in Ruwen, but he set it aside for a moment. “Does that mean you let people borrow books from here?”
“If they have my mark, which very few do. You’re the first person to touch a book in here in centuries.”
“Then why do you bother copying all the material people bring?”
“The same reason you really came in here: knowledge.”
Ruwen blushed. “I’m just trying to understand what’s happening to me.”
“Me too. You are like an island in the sea. What’s visible is dwarfed by what pushed you to the surface. The fact that you are in this room, that you were drawn to it is a testament to that force.”
“Uru?”
“Partly.”
Ruwen rubbed his face. “That’s part of the problem. Every decision I make feels like I’m performing some preordained plan. I’m starting to think I’m a puppet.”
“It might feel that way, but only because of Uru’s ability to navigate the most likely paths and plan for them. As time goes on, and more variables surround you, her touch will feel lighter. I’m having a blast watching you trigger traps that have been dormant, waiting for you, for centuries. I almost hope I don’t kill you tomorrow.”
Ruwen’s stomach turned. “I’ve been thinking about that. Could I step back into my world for a few minutes? Just long enough to synch with Uru. The thought of losing everything that’s happened here makes me sick.”
“Ky controls access to your plane, and she’s still gone. You could just stay in here, or in your room until she gets back.”
“She said I needed to make it to level five if I had any chance of surviving when I return.”
“That is a difficult situation.”
“You couldn’t just take it easy on me?”
“Sorry, when it comes to your kind, I have to operate by the gods’ rules. One of which is ‘no favorites.’ One of my jobs is to try and kill anyone who ventures into my depths. No hard feelings. Although to be honest, I’m really hoping you die. I want a closer look at that birthmark, which I’ll only get if I absorb you. Plus, with all the energy you just Cultivated, I could finish off my latest level. Honestly, you’re lucky those rules exist. Otherwise, I’m not sure I could resist killing you right now.”
Ruwen’s mouth went dry. It was easy to forget when talking with the cute little girl that Blapy was an ancient being who had spent eons perfecting ways to kill adventurers. Adventurers with far more skills then he had.
“Lucky me,” Ruwen choked out.
Blapy grinned at him and hopped off the table. She gave her centipede a hug and then walked toward the doors. The doors opened as she approached, and she stopped and faced him.
“Do you know the only thing more powerful than knowledge?” Blapy asked.
Ruwen gave the question some thought. He had grown up thinking knowledge eventually beat every other source of power. With the right knowledge, you could overcome almost any obstacle.
“Nothing,” Ruwen said.
“Knowledge is useless without the ability to comprehend it.”
Ruwen nodded. “That’s true. You need Intelligence and Wisdom.”
“And something even more basic,” Blapy said. “The ability to read it. I’ll let you guess how many of the gods figured that one out and planned for it when constructing their Classes. See you in a few hours.”
Blapy walked through the open doors and disappeared. Ruwen immediately took out his Worker textbook and flipped to the abilities section. He found Hey You, and read what each level offered.
He had remembered correctly. His level one ability gave him the vocabulary of a five-year-old, and level two gave him a firm grasp of the basics. At his current level of three, he was now fluent. When he took level four, he would understand technical and scientific items. The last level, five, he could understand and communicate on esoteric, arcane, and magical topics.
Esoteric. The same word Blapy had used to describe some of the books here. The desire to use the ability points he’d just earned for reaching level four to increase the level of Hey You to level five was almost unbearable. The thought of reading anything he wanted in this room, a room that might contain the writings of gods, made his head spin. What might he learn? Maybe something that would save his life. But, if he disobeyed Ky, there would be consequences, and that thought stopped him. He would just have to wait. Hopefully his current level would allow him to at least recognize what might be valuable to him right now.
Blapy’s last comment about how the gods built their Classes made Ruwen wonder. He knew high-level Mages had spells to decipher text. Ruwen agreed with Blapy that the power to comprehend and communicate in a language was the foundation of knowledge. The more languages you could do that in, the more knowledge you gained. So, in a way, it did make it the most potent ability. And Uru had given this ability to her most basic Class. Literally half of her people had the potential to reap the benefits from this room or any foreign library. Even Mages didn’t have that power, as their ability to read efficiently would be limited by their Mana pool and cooldowns. Once again, it made him view Workers in a different light.
He went to the corner where he and Sift had shelved books earlier, and slowly expanded from there. Ruwen glanced at every book he picked up. Most were readable and ran the gamut of a normal library: memoirs, adventure stories, illustrated and informational books, and manuals on everything from fishing to fighting. He had no idea the best way to shelve them, so, until he decided, he just focused on getting them off the floor and onto the shelves.
Four hours passed as he slowly filled two of the shelves. He stood in the corner
and looked at the tiny area he’d managed to clear. It would take him months to finish, but he didn’t mind. He hoped to come back to the library often. Looking at the two shelves with their neatly stacked books made him feel good. The table nearest him had three books on it. All of them were almost entirely incomprehensible. He didn’t know if that was because they were ciphered, the author was insane, or his Hey You Ability wasn’t high enough.
The library reminded him of home, and he felt better. Reluctant to leave, he slowly walked around the room. Near the area furthest from the doors, many of the books looked older. Time had aged them, and a significant number had frayed edges. He would probably start here next time. As he turned to leave, the lights went out.
He stopped, paralyzed, his heart racing. The Jaga Wedding Band’s 15% increase to ambient light turned the darkness into a murky grey fog. But he still couldn’t see well.
“Really, Blapy?” Ruwen said in frustration. She probably had figured out he didn’t like the dark.
“Limuno,” Ruwen said.
The lights didn’t come back on.
“Limuno!” Ruwen said, louder this time.
Still no lights. Maybe that only worked when you were on the top of the stairs. Or Blapy was trying to make him uncomfortable.
Blapy didn’t respond. She might not have had anything to do with it. Maybe the lights went off automatically if, after so many hours, no one walked through the doors. Yes, that was probably it. That made him feel better. There was an easy way to test it. He just needed to make it to the door and see if it triggered the lights.
He activated his Detect Temperature to see if it would help him. His footsteps were visible, and anything he’d touched had a faint red glow. He could make out the far doors because the outer room was warmer and Ruwen could see the heat seeping into this room through the cracks around the frame.
He looked down to avoid walking on any books and gasped. Something bright red lay buried under a pile of books just to his left. Kneeling, he gently cleared the books away. The object was a book about the size of his two hands, but Ruwen couldn’t make out the title. It felt warm, and he wondered what might cause that. Too late, he realized it might be a trap or some sort of bomb. He held it out, not sure what to do. After a few seconds, nothing happened, and he decided it was probably safe. Standing back up, he looked around the room but didn’t see anything else giving off heat.