“How did it go?” Harnna asked when Ash softly closed the bedroom door.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and started undressing without bothering to awaken the lights. “We will send eagles to the Suns come morning. They will take ten days to reach them, then they will dispatch their people here. They’ll take months to arrive, probably half a year, maybe even more.”
“That’s not what I asked you, and you know it,” Harnna said, watching her husband strip under the faint illumination of the waxing moon. The silvery light glimmered off of Ash’s gray mane, highlighting a body, which had remained firm and well sculpted, despite his fifty-two years and a boring desk job.
Ash sighed and swallowed, eliciting Harnna’s frown. “We must distance ourselves from her and treat her like a regular, law-abiding hunter—”
“Jasmine is my baby!”
“You have six other babies, and five grandchildren,” Ash shouted a line he had prepared ahead of time, and Harnna went silent.
“Think of them. Think of the house. Don’t you recall Big Brother’s folly and why my father chose the third son over the first?”
Harnna looked away from her husband and out the window. Years ago, in her foolishness she married out of love, yet what everyone thought was recklessness turned into a winning move over a single dire mistake.
“Family comes first. And we must think of the entire family, not just a single member. The Suns are a behemoth. They want the method for crystal coin production I invented more than they need Jasmine. If things turn south, Margaret will suffice as a replacement. Besides, we own finite resources, and too many people vying over them. There’s little room for someone without memories, and no room for someone with a grim future.”
Ash clenched his fist, staring at the thick, fluffy carpet, unable to meet Harnna’s gaze. However, he still said the words, condemning his beautiful, talented daughter. He hated himself deep down. The entire incident was his fault. With Jasmine’s potential, she could have been the first female family head had he not plotted for more.
“She will join the hunter school, starting tomorrow,” Ash said, but Harnna shouted while his ‘starting tomorrow’ still reverberated in their giant bedchamber.
“Absolutely not! Both the Healers and the Flames have servants and henchmen attending. They will bully Jasmine!”
“Calm down. They wouldn’t dare take it too far. Who knows, the experience might be good for her, if she passes this tribulation. What I’m more worried about is the reported fear of blood—”
“What?”
“The healer hunter who brought her, mentioned she displayed hints of an irrational fear of blood and corpses. It could have been just blood, he wasn’t certain.”
The parents discussed their daughter’s future, what they could and could not do for her late into the night. Half an hour before sunrise, Ash left to observe the sending of the official missives. Meanwhile, Spring lay comfortably at the center of her bed, struggling in vain to refine her mana.
It’s useless without mana crystals. My mana core has regressed by two grades after I mixed human blood into my sap, and it seems like there’s no way I can recover from that loss, save through mana refinement. It’s ironic. Bloom-folk have better aptitude than humans, yet without blood, we can only use symbionts which naturally sprouted on us and the ones we cultivated with our bodies as the base.
Spring tried to recall whether she had discovered a reason for this or a workaround in her previous life, but had no such memories. She only knew that if the ratio of blood to sap coursing through her xylem fell below one part blood to five parts sap, all her grafts and newly acquired symbionts would wither, and unless she made a complete recovery within a day, she would also starve to death.
I need to get a hold of some money. I need four vermilion coins to advance. That’s no small amount, but I’m a rich heiress.
Spring opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling in the room’s faltering light. Did Jasmine even have her own stash of coins?
Spring got up from the bed and started rummaging through the dim room. Half an hour later, she had searched everywhere, including the mattress, but found only utility crystals used to power applants and three pieces of matte red strawberry flavored candy so overflowing with refined syrup they could never spoil.
There’s only five crystals, with five to ten maroon coins’ worth of mana. If I’m five coins short of an advance, I’ll use them, but I need at least sixty-four to evolve my mana core, sixty-six just in case someone shortchanged me.
However, I could use the candy to coat a tendril of my flesh and form a tongue while I wait for the maids to wake me. She glanced around, looking for an open flame or anything similar, then silently cursed. Not even a single candle? They had two rows of torches outside. Wait, why do they have torches? Lighters might be more expensive to purchase, but in the long run they save money.
Luminous applants, such as lighters, survived on sunlight and moisture in the air. Humans watered them in arid climates, but at the fringes of the weald, where the Searing Flames had made their stronghold, the air was humid and heavy, just what the applant needed to thrive.
She walked over to the large heater in the corner of the room. The applant had a stack of wood next to it and a crystal charged with the most basic initial-red mana. Spring observed the crystal’s dull maroon glow. Half the tiny stone was embedded into the applant, and the opening for the firewood was obvious.
All Spring needed to do to start it was to feed it wood and close the lid. I lack a pot to melt the candy.
“Young Miss,” a timid voice followed a weak knock on Spring’s bedroom door. “It’s time to get ready for the day and have breakfast.”
It’s morning already?
“Alright,” Spring said, and opened a curtain to see the rising sun.
Today my parents, or possibly a big brother, will come and explain everything to me. Then I will know how to plot out an optimal future.
Spring showered with pure water. After she absorbed a bit of it through her soles, she used a soap, inwardly cursing the disgusting human skin, so prone to growing detrimental, stinking fungus and bacteria.
She stood in front of the full body mirror, inspecting the second-face for hints of defects. After she had confirmed her disguise was in order, she entered the walk-in closet and donned a simple white dress Jasmine seemed fond of.
Spring left the room and went downstairs, following the path she had taken last night. A maid waited for her in the large antechamber, eyes glued to the ground, trying to erase her existence and make herself invisible to Spring.
This can’t do. If I let the help ignore me and get away with it, my situation will only grow more difficult.
“The serving girl last night was disrespectful to me,” Spring said, pretending she did not notice the maid’s bearing. “I want her flogged.”
The maid snapped her head up, almost meeting Jasmine’s gaze with her wide eyes. She opened her quivering lips, but then closed them without saying a word.
“Yes, Young Miss,” she nodded, her eyes once more fixed on the black-and-white tiles, however, her posture was slightly different. She no longer looked like she tried to disappear from her Young Miss’s perception.
It worked. “By flogged, I don’t mean a single lash. I want her to recall her transgression every time she sits down for at least a week.”
“Yes, Young Miss,” the maid shuddered.
“You will take me to the dining room. Then you will notify whoever is in charge of discipline about my order.”
“Yes, Young Miss. Please, follow me, Young Miss.” The maid scurried along and brought Spring through a large hall and into a lavish dining hall.
The table was long enough to seat thirty, yet only had ten chairs. Spring took in the rest of the scene without moving her head. The marbled floor tiles as clean as a plate, the gilded frames of the giant paintings on the walls, and the tablecloth so white it reminded her of the flowers she had lost to blight.
The maid rushed ahead and pulled a chair for her.
“Where is everyone?” Spring asked, not letting her shock touch her voice.
I took half an hour to get ready. If they woke up everyone, they should’ve already been here.
“Master has left for work, Madam should be in the drawing room, painting with the sunrise. As for Young Masters and Young Misses, it’s too early for their breakfast,” the maid replied, her breath quickening and her voice quivering.
“Why must I eat now, then?” Spring asked, letting a hint of anger seep into her voice.
“Forgive me, Young Miss. These are Master’s orders. You should get ready, eat, and then leave for the hunter school.”
Huh?
“How did it go?” Harnna asked when Ash softly closed the bedroom door.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and started undressing without bothering to awaken the lights. “We will send eagles to the Suns come morning. They will take ten days to reach them, then they will dispatch their people here. They’ll take months to arrive, probably half a year, maybe even more.”
“That’s not what I asked you, and you know it,” Harnna said, watching her husband strip under the faint illumination of the waxing moon. The silvery light glimmered off of Ash’s gray mane, highlighting a body, which had remained firm and well sculpted, despite his fifty-two years and a boring desk job.
Ash sighed and swallowed, eliciting Harnna’s frown. “We must distance ourselves from her and treat her like a regular, law-abiding hunter—”
“Jasmine is my baby!”
“You have six other babies, and five grandchildren,” Ash shouted a line he had prepared ahead of time, and Harnna went silent.
“Think of them. Think of the house. Don’t you recall Big Brother’s folly and why my father chose the third son over the first?”
Harnna looked away from her husband and out the window. Years ago, in her foolishness she married out of love, yet what everyone thought was recklessness turned into a winning move over a single dire mistake.
“Family comes first. And we must think of the entire family, not just a single member. The Suns are a behemoth. They want the method for crystal coin production I invented more than they need Jasmine. If things turn south, Margaret will suffice as a replacement. Besides, we own finite resources, and too many people vying over them. There’s little room for someone without memories, and no room for someone with a grim future.”
Ash clenched his fist, staring at the thick, fluffy carpet, unable to meet Harnna’s gaze. However, he still said the words, condemning his beautiful, talented daughter. He hated himself deep down. The entire incident was his fault. With Jasmine’s potential, she could have been the first female family head had he not plotted for more.
“She will join the hunter school, starting tomorrow,” Ash said, but Harnna shouted while his ‘starting tomorrow’ still reverberated in their giant bedchamber.
“Absolutely not! Both the Healers and the Flames have servants and henchmen attending. They will bully Jasmine!”
“Calm down. They wouldn’t dare take it too far. Who knows, the experience might be good for her, if she passes this tribulation. What I’m more worried about is the reported fear of blood—”
“What?”
“The healer hunter who brought her, mentioned she displayed hints of an irrational fear of blood and corpses. It could have been just blood, he wasn’t certain.”
The parents discussed their daughter’s future, what they could and could not do for her late into the night. Half an hour before sunrise, Ash left to observe the sending of the official missives. Meanwhile, Spring lay comfortably at the center of her bed, struggling in vain to refine her mana.
It’s useless without mana crystals. My mana core has regressed by two grades after I mixed human blood into my sap, and it seems like there’s no way I can recover from that loss, save through mana refinement. It’s ironic. Bloom-folk have better aptitude than humans, yet without blood, we can only use symbionts which naturally sprouted on us and the ones we cultivated with our bodies as the base.
Spring tried to recall whether she had discovered a reason for this or a workaround in her previous life, but had no such memories. She only knew that if the ratio of blood to sap coursing through her xylem fell below one part blood to five parts sap, all her grafts and newly acquired symbionts would wither, and unless she made a complete recovery within a day, she would also starve to death.
I need to get a hold of some money. I need four vermilion coins to advance. That’s no small amount, but I’m a rich heiress.
Spring opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling in the room’s faltering light. Did Jasmine even have her own stash of coins?
Spring got up from the bed and started rummaging through the dim room. Half an hour later, she had searched everywhere, including the mattress, but found only utility crystals used to power applants and three pieces of matte red strawberry flavored candy so overflowing with refined syrup they could never spoil.
There’s only five crystals, with five to ten maroon coins’ worth of mana. If I’m five coins short of an advance, I’ll use them, but I need at least sixty-four to evolve my mana core, sixty-six just in case someone shortchanged me.
However, I could use the candy to coat a tendril of my flesh and form a tongue while I wait for the maids to wake me. She glanced around, looking for an open flame or anything similar, then silently cursed. Not even a single candle? They had two rows of torches outside. Wait, why do they have torches? Lighters might be more expensive to purchase, but in the long run they save money.
Luminous applants, such as lighters, survived on sunlight and moisture in the air. Humans watered them in arid climates, but at the fringes of the weald, where the Searing Flames had made their stronghold, the air was humid and heavy, just what the applant needed to thrive.
She walked over to the large heater in the corner of the room. The applant had a stack of wood next to it and a crystal charged with the most basic initial-red mana. Spring observed the crystal’s dull maroon glow. Half the tiny stone was embedded into the applant, and the opening for the firewood was obvious.
All Spring needed to do to start it was to feed it wood and close the lid. I lack a pot to melt the candy.
“Young Miss,” a timid voice followed a weak knock on Spring’s bedroom door. “It’s time to get ready for the day and have breakfast.”
It’s morning already?
“Alright,” Spring said, and opened a curtain to see the rising sun.
Today my parents, or possibly a big brother, will come and explain everything to me. Then I will know how to plot out an optimal future.
Spring showered with pure water. After she absorbed a bit of it through her soles, she used a soap, inwardly cursing the disgusting human skin, so prone to growing detrimental, stinking fungus and bacteria.
She stood in front of the full body mirror, inspecting the second-face for hints of defects. After she had confirmed her disguise was in order, she entered the walk-in closet and donned a simple white dress Jasmine seemed fond of.
Spring left the room and went downstairs, following the path she had taken last night. A maid waited for her in the large antechamber, eyes glued to the ground, trying to erase her existence and make herself invisible to Spring.
This can’t do. If I let the help ignore me and get away with it, my situation will only grow more difficult.
“The serving girl last night was disrespectful to me,” Spring said, pretending she did not notice the maid’s bearing. “I want her flogged.”
The maid snapped her head up, almost meeting Jasmine’s gaze with her wide eyes. She opened her quivering lips, but then closed them without saying a word.
“Yes, Young Miss,” she nodded, her eyes once more fixed on the black-and-white tiles, however, her posture was slightly different. She no longer looked like she tried to disappear from her Young Miss’s perception.
It worked. “By flogged, I don’t mean a single lash. I want her to recall her transgression every time she sits down for at least a week.”
“Yes, Young Miss,” the maid shuddered.
“You will take me to the dining room. Then you will notify whoever is in charge of discipline about my order.”
“Yes, Young Miss. Please, follow me, Young Miss.” The maid scurried along and brought Spring through a large hall and into a lavish dining hall.
The table was long enough to seat thirty, yet only had ten chairs. Spring took in the rest of the scene without moving her head. The marbled floor tiles as clean as a plate, the gilded frames of the giant paintings on the walls, and the tablecloth so white it reminded her of the flowers she had lost to blight.
The maid rushed ahead and pulled a chair for her.
“Where is everyone?” Spring asked, not letting her shock touch her voice.
I took half an hour to get ready. If they woke up everyone, they should’ve already been here.
“Master has left for work, Madam should be in the drawing room, painting with the sunrise. As for Young Masters and Young Misses, it’s too early for their breakfast,” the maid replied, her breath quickening and her voice quivering.
“Why must I eat now, then?” Spring asked, letting a hint of anger seep into her voice.
“Forgive me, Young Miss. These are Master’s orders. You should get ready, eat, and then leave for the hunter school.”
Huh?
