Gorith had the driver stop just inside the border of Wallang Province, near a northwestern forest shrouded in mystery. He paid the driver and dismissed him before stepping onto the dirt track leading into the dense woodland. Gorith finally felt at ease here, his sanctuary for thirty years. He'd settled in these Illusion Wood for their wealth of rare medicinal plants and minerals, and over the decades, the place had become home. He rarely ventured out, except for supplies. Now, after years of meticulous experimentation, the key to fulfilling his life's ambition lay within his grasp… and that key was the slow-witted boy standing beside him – A'Dunce.
"From here, we walk," Gorith stated flatly, already moving toward the trees.
A'Dunce stared wide-eyed at the seemingly endless forest. "Gorith, you live here? The air smells so clean!" Gorith didn't respond, striding deeper into the woods. A'Dunce hurried after him, sticking close.
The Illusion Wood earned their name. Thick vegetation and deceptive terrain made navigation nearly impossible, compounded by frequent banks of unnatural mist rolling through the elevated terrain. Locals avoided it, fearing they'd never return. Gorith, upon settling, enhanced its danger with magical traps, including his pride and joy – an artifact amplifying the forest's already pervasive fog.
Half a day's relentless trek later, A'Dunce was ragged with exhaustion and hunger. Fear alone kept him moving; the mist was so thick he lost sight of Gorith the instant he fell a step behind. Entering the woods, Gorith became silent, finding comfort in the cloaking mist – darkness aligned with his magic, sunlight was an irritant. His internal magical homing beacon, linked to the wards around his hidden lab, guided him unerringly through the shifting fog.
Then, A'Dunce tripped on a hidden root, sprawling onto the damp forest floor. Gorith didn't pause. Pain flared in A'Dunce's ankle, exacerbated by dizziness and near-total exhaustion. He tried to call out for Gorith, but no sound emerged. The mist began to swirl. Darkness claimed him.
***
Light broke through. The oppressive fog vanished as several small log cabins appeared before Gorith.
"Home," he murmured, satisfaction warming him. To any observer, they were dilapidated shelters. Only he knew the truth – this was his sanctum, Pyromancer Gorith's laboratory. He glanced at the unconscious boy slung under his arm. Finally. The final preparations for his life's work could begin. All hinged on this simpleton, A'Dunce. After years of waiting, success felt tangible.
He'd deliberately forced A'Dunce to endure the grueling hike, testing his spirit. The boy's silent endurance surprised him; even enhanced by the Marrow Pill, holding out for so long at his age was remarkable. Gorith filed the observation away – resilience could be useful.
He carried A'Dunce into the southernmost cabin, spartan save for a crude bed and a couple of chairs. Depositing the boy, he sat, tracing a red glowing hexagram in the air. He focused, sensing the ambient magic. Good. The security wards hadn't been disturbed in his absence. Summoning the bamboo basket he'd bought in Ninok City (a place he'd stumbled upon while searching for a suitable test subject), Gorith headed to the nearby orchard. Years spent cataloging this patch ensured he knew every edible and poisonous fruit. He gathered provisions before returning, ate, and settled into deep meditation.
Dunce painted the sky when A'Dunce awoke. Disoriented by pain and unfamiliar surroundings, panic gripped him – until he saw Gorith meditating. Relief washed over him. The room was bare, his gaze quickly settling on the bright, inviting fruits in a basket beside the seated figure. As he stood, agony shot through his ankle. Hunger overpowered caution. Limping silently, he retrieved the basket, glancing nervously at the motionless Gorith. Seventeen vibrant fruits. Devouring the first brought sweet relief; the juice soothed his parched throat. He ate eight, savoring each, even the pain in his foot dulling. Conscience pricked him; he carefully placed the remaining nine back, sneaking a final look at Gorith before heading outside.
Emerging, A'Dunce stared. River pressed against an invisible barrier, creating a roughly thirty-meter clear circle around the cluster of three cabins, including the large northern one (easily fifty square meters). Beyond the circle, the oppressive fog and towering trees swallowed everything, even the sky. The air hummed with isolation.
Gorith's eyes snapped open the instant A'Dunce moved. He'd tracked the boy's every action. A'Dunce's restraint – stopping after eight fruits – stirred something unfamiliar within the old magic-user. Observing A'Dunce's bewildered gaze sweeping the enclave, Gorith sighed quietly and stood.
"A'Dunce."
A'Dunce jumped. "Gorith! You're awake! I… I ate some of your fruit." He hung his head.
"They were for you," Gorith's tone was uncharacteristically mild. He'd removed his cowl, revealing a deeply lined face softened by a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "This place is my home. Now it is also yours."
The unexpected warmth startled A'Dunce. "Gorith… what can I do for you?"
Gorith inhaled the cool air. "Nothing today. Tomorrow, you begin as my assistant. I have… experiments to conduct."
"Okay."
***
Gorith roused A'Dunce before dawn. In the orchard, Gorith pointed. "This orchard feeds us. Do not wander far. Get lost, and you starve. Understand?"
A'Dunce nodded, mesmerized by the colorful bounty.
Gorith plucked several red, pear-shaped fruits. "Mitz fruit. They provide necessary nutrients. Remember its shape. Many fruits here are deadly. I will teach you. Your task today: memorize the Mitz fruit."
A'Dunce studied the fruit intently.
"Eat. It's your breakfast. We begin work."
After a quick meal, Gorith led A'Dunce to the large northern cabin. Inside, A'Dunce gaped. Glass vials, bubbling tubes, intricate metal apparatus – it was worlds away from his sparse room. Dominating the space were enormous cabinets lining the walls, filled with countless small drawers labeled with symbols A'Dunce couldn't decipher.
"Stellating now," Gorith stated, surveying his domain, "you are my apprentice. Assist me." He pointed to the top left drawer. "'Niter.' Essential for alchemy." He gestured broadly. "These drawers contain reagents. Today, memorize *these ten labels' names*." He rattled off the names.
For A'Dunce, it was brutal. He asked for repetitions, thirty times by dusk, finally grasping them. Thus began his regimen: gather fruit, memorize labels while Gorith toiled with vials and flames, learning the fundamental ingredients of the alchemist's craft. Gorith drove him hard, threatening skipped meals, though always providing sustenance later. A'Dunce sensed an odd undercurrent of care and persisted. Mystic Nights replaced sleep with grueling meditation. Sleepy mornings were common until his body adapted, finding rest in the trance. His only frustration was Gorith's refusal to teach further spells, leaving him to practice his lone spells – Minor Fireball and Flame Palm.
Three grinding months passed. A'Dunce, persevering like a slow but unstoppable force, mastered every label and every fruit. His memory, slow to ignite, now held its knowledge tenaciously.
"Enough memorizing," Gorith announced one morning. "You are now my lab assistant. Get to work."
"Yes, Gorith!" A'Dunce responded instantly, ingrained routine taking over. His chores were constant; Gorith's life revolved entirely around the lab.
Gorith hovered over a small bronze crucible. "Niter. Small chunk. Silver, one ounce. Skywind Petal, three drams. Now!"
A'Dunce swiftly delivered the items. Gorith placed them in the crucible. "Red Cotton, one ounce. Water, basin full. Now!"
Items deposited, Gorith commanded: "Apply Flame Palm beneath. Do not stop until I command."
"Yes, Gorith! Fire, heed my call! By my will, ignite! Flame Palm!" A flame, tinged with blue at its base, flickered in A'Dunce's palm. He focused intently, holding the crucible steady.
The blue tinge startled Gorith. *Apprentice level in three months?* He watched, expecting failure within minutes. Yet A'Dunce held, sweat beading only after twenty minutes, water nearly boiled away. Gorith was grudgingly impressed. A spark of lethal intent flickered. *Imagine his potential... trained properly…* He crushed the thought.
"Enough. Fetch another basin of water. And one ounce of Crystallis Dust."
"Yes, Gorith!" A'Dunce extinguished his flame, staggering with the effort. Fetching the supplies, he saw black flames (Gorith's magic) replacing his own, melting the crucible's contents into a green paste. Gorith scattered the Crystallis Dust. A flash of emerald fire, a puff of fragrant smoke, and the paste solidified.
Gorith frowned, sealing the crucible. "Still flawed. Lacks Windbone Grass. Damn it. Only grows in Huasheng." He turned to A'Dunce. "I must leave. To find Windbone Grass. Stay here. Tend the place."
A'Dunce felt a sudden void. "How long, Gorith?"
"A month. Maybe two," Gorith replied curtly. "Eat the fruit. Drink the spring water behind the cabins. Stay *within* the clear zone. Step beyond the barrier into the deep Illusion Wood, and you die. Understood?"
A'Dunce nodded. "Hurry back, Gorith."
Something twisted in Gorith's core. Despite his harshness, this slow boy had become inexplicably obedient, anticipating his needs perfectly. A pang of… something… threatened his resolve. He violently shook his head, dispelling the weakness. "Meditate. I leave at dawn."
"Yes, Gorith." Weary from the prolonged Flame Palm, A'Dunce limped to his cabin.
At dawn, Gorith packed lightly.
"Remember, A'Dunce: Stay within the barrier." He paused, then pulled a leather-bound notebook from his worn jacket. "Here."
A'Dunce stared. "What is it?"
Gorith avoided his eyes. "My notes. Three sections: Alchemy Formulations, Toxins and Antidotes, Metalcraft Techniques. It should occupy you. The labels you memorized are the core. Do *not* attempt any experiments." His voice turned icy. "What you grasp is up to your puny intellect." He turned abruptly and vanished into the mist.
Clutching the precious book, A'Dunce felt tears well. He'd never owned a book. "Thank you, Gorith. Come back soon. I'll miss you."
Gorith paused mid-stride. A'Dunce didn't see the flicker of profound regret on the receding profile. "Sentimentality is weakness!" Gorith's voice lashed back through the fog. "Study the notes! I *will* test you!" He disappeared without looking back.
A'Dunce pressed the book to his chest. Another soul had etched itself beside warm bread on the altar of his limited world.
Driven by a fierce desire not to fail Gorith, A'Dunce fell into a new rhythm: meditation, eating, and relentless study. His slow brain eventually penetrated the alchemical secrets within the notes. Curiosity simmered, but discipline held – he never entered the lab alone. After more than a month, a monumental achievement: he'd committed the entire notebook to memory. Only then did he notice the final page was cleanly torn away. *Probably too complex for me,* he reasoned, dismissing it.
One crisp morning, after reviewing the notes yet again, A'Dunce entered the orchard for breakfast. An overpoweringly sweet aroma, unlike any fruit he knew, stopped him. Instinct drew him deeper into the familiar trees.
The scent intensified near a section he knew well. Yet here, shockingly, stood a small crystalline tree, a vibrant, translucent ruby red. It bore no leaves. At its crown pulsed a single, perfect white fruit, light swirling beneath its luminous skin. The source of the perfume.
A'Dunce knelt. *The notes… nothing like this.* He mentally scanned Alchemy Formulations. No match.
*So beautiful… so fragrant… surely…?* Hunger roared. He gently touched the fruit. It instantly fell into his waiting hands. It radiated warmth, the scent exploding. The moment the fruit left its perch, the red tree withered, collapsing into the earth in seconds.
Holding the fruit, A'Dunce's stomach clenched. *Safe?* He took a cautious bite. Clear, flavorless juice flooded his mouth. He swallowed. Refreshing cold plunged into his core. He devoured it whole.
As he stood, an icy river erupted from his stomach. It surged, numbing, freezing his very bones. He gasped, crashing to the ground. Tremors wracked his body. The world blurred. *Dead… poisoned…* Through the haze, a faint crimson gleam caught his eye where the red tree vanished. A feeble grasp closed on another fruit – soft, warm, pulsing with heat. The frostbite in his fingers eased. Seizing the chance, he crammed the burning fruit into his mouth.
Scorching liquid seared his throat, battling the invasive cold. He sighed.
Agony tore through his gut. The cold and heat weren't allies but warring factions. They raged within him, shredding muscle, igniting nerves. "AAAAAAH!" He convulsed, screaming into the silent forest. Sweat, cold as the first poison, drenched him. His skin flushed crimson, then ghostly pale. (Had it not been for the Marrow Pill years ago, this unleashed energy would have ruptured his system instantly.)
Unknown to A'Dunce, he'd consumed the legendary Rebirth Fruit. Harvested once every few millennia, they demanded simultaneous ingestion of both the Cold Seed (white fruit) and the Fire Seed (red fruit). Their combined power unleashed torrents of primordial life force within the body. This energy, once absorbed, granted immense vitality and continuous regeneration – a holy grail for church healers. Its most potent boon: cultivating an innate life aura that actively resisted damage from shadow and decay.
The war within manifested externally – blood seeped through his pores. He vomited blood onto nearby plants; one side instantly withered, the other froze solid.
Mystic Night fell. Only then did the opposing energies finally merge, swirling into a single, blissfully warm current. It began to flow, slowly at first, through his battered channels.
A'Dunce exhaled, muscles turning to water. Drenched clothes clung to him like a second skin. He blinked, astonished to see his very skin emitting a faint, ethereal luminescence. The warm current brought profound relief, soothing the ravaged pathways of his body. He lay on the forest floor, staring at the canopy stars, his mind preternaturally clear, every page of Gorith's notes vividly recalled. *Alive… Didn't die… Never eating strange fruit again.*