The hunter school’s herbarium was a large yet humble single-story building. Within, the clan kept the initial two grafts almost every Searing Flame hunter started their career with, level one barkskin and level one flame-flower.
Barkskin temporarily covered one’s skin in tough bark, akin to the skin of level one topiary horrors, drawing mana to spread, then continuously consuming a trickle while active. Flame-flower allowed the user to shoot a firebolt by expending a huge amount of mana. The firebolt’s lethality varied, depending on the user’s stage and level.
If fueled by maroon mana, the flaming projectile would exist for an eye-blink and dissipate after covering a few paces, unable to inflict damage. However, if a student with vermillion mana shot it, the bolt could cover twenty meters before dissipating, posing lethal threat to those within five meters while inflicting serious burns to those standing within fifteen meters.
For this reason, most hunters chose barkskin as their first graft, implanting it on the inner thigh, or calves, to protect the implant’s main body. Once they reached the peak of level one, flame-flowers became their life-saving trumps, slaying a threat within twenty meters at the cost of depleting the host’s entire mana supply.
Naturally, more experienced hunters could limit the mana output and better use the graft, but mastering such techniques was beyond the scope of the Searing Flame clan’s hunter school.
Just as Spring had expected, her fellow students had congregated around the barkskin pond, giving the floating patches of moss-covered bark eager looks.
“Barkskin is the most basic implant,” Madam Wartorn said, “You only need to moisten your skin and place it atop of it. It will burrow into your flesh, growing tendrils on its own until it touches upon your mana circuit. You will need to feed the implant with your mana for a while. The time varies, and there doesn’t seem to be a rule. For some it will take fifteen minutes until you can control it, for others it may take an hour, and proportionally more mana. I will harvest the implants you choose, and guide you verbally, should you have any doubts. Remember to be calm and breathe. The implantation hurts, but I assure you, you will suffer no harm.”
The one-legged woman paused, giving her students enough time to voice their questions. However, they remained silent, and she continued speaking.
“Barkskin is a living creature, while its effect is not,” she lied with the full conviction of those who did not understand how plants worked. “So, you need to keep the implant protected. Most people choose to plant it in their calves. Thighs are a safer choice, but the discomfort brought by rubbing the rough bark against your skin all the time is a hassle. Should the implant suffer damage, it will need time to heal. If it breaks, it will perish, and you will have to purchase a new one. Questions?”
Cassie, a tall, lean young woman with brown hair, raised her hand. “Can we bandage it for comfort?”
Wartorn smiled and nodded, “As always, a great question, Cassiette. That seems like a logical solution. However, barkskin requires frequent watering. For it to stay healthy, its moss needs to keep a deep emerald color. If you cover it, it may develop mold, and you will have a lot of trouble healing it. Most hunters throw barkskin away once it develops any strange symptoms, since it’s easier to purchase a new implant than stress over possible malfunctions.”
The instructor paused for breath and continued. “Just so you know, extracting barkskin hurts twice more than implanting it. You will also need to waste mana again after you re-implant it. Despite what I just said, several of you will probably try to plant it in a place other than your calf. I won’t try to talk you out of it, in every generation someone manages to implant barkskin in a more secure spot, and hunters have survived thanks to that. Right…”
She paused again, catching everyone’s attention and letting the silence stretch long enough for several youths to gulp.
“If barkskin perishes, its armor will become a rigid shell, entrapping you until it breaks and falls off. I recommend you place barkskin in a better protected location, if you have the willpower to endure it until you get used to it. I, personally, lacked willpower. Today, I regret my choice.” She glanced down at her peg leg.
Is there a more profound reason disabled hunters act as instructors? I thought it was only to employ the maimed, but seeing the consequences of your choices may also be a part of it. Spring did not understand humans enough. She foolishly thought the sight of someone else’s misfortune would prompt those youths into increased alertness, Meanwhile, Madam Wartorn stood before her as a proof of the warning’s futile nature.
The middle aged woman shook herself out of her daze and looked back at her class. “Alright, pick your implants. I will harvest them for you.”
One by one, the students pointed at the floating plants, and Wartorn wadded through water, severing the hair-thin white tendrils. She picked them up and handed them over, with Spring watching the entire scene from a different perspective.
Thank Bloom I can’t smell their screams. Finally, it was her turn, but Spring shook her head. “I will take a flame-flower.”
Wartorn nodded, surprising Spring with her lack of surprise.
“I’ll help the rest implant their barkskins, then I will lead you to choose your implant.”
Spring shrugged, and the instructor went to work. Nine youths implanted barkskin on their inner thighs. Most of them were the toughest students, but surprisingly, Cassie was among their number.
The weakest screamed, while others grit their teeth, went pale or sweated buckets. Wartorn took an hour and a half to help them attach the rough bark covered in lush moss.
“Lay down, rest, and let barkskin connect with you. We’re leaving once I’m done with Miss Searing. Don’t even think about touching the implants from the pool. Theft will get you expelled, stripped of your newly gained implants, and exiled from the clan into the weald, where you stand no chance of surviving.”
So, if I want to get away, all I have to do is steal some worthless grafts? Spring mulled the thought as she followed Wartorn towards the next chamber’s entrance. Nah. There’s no easy escape for me. The Searings would probably pay for any damages, and I would be in even greater trouble than I am now.
Wartorn undid the lock and led Spring in. A wave of sweltering steam struck Spring’s face with almost physical force. The chamber was much smaller than the previous one, a snug sauna with dozens of heaters consuming mana and wood to create overpowering heat.
Two hundred reddish-orange orchid-shaped flowers hung from suspended logs, swaying in the breeze created by the heat escaping the room. The beautiful plants had delicate scarlet bodies and red, wavy leaves, absorbing the heat and moisture from the air for sustenance.
“Flame-flowers need heat to thrive. They need to eat every eight to ten hours, unlike barkskin, which you can water once a week. They constantly draw a bit of your heat, but you also need to have small lumps of coal or wood they will devour for their meals. Hungry flame-flowers will emerge from your skin for feeding and won’t retract until you feed them. They get sick if they miss two meals in five days, they wither when they miss more than four meals in five days.”
Wartorn paused for a moment. “Are you certain you want a flame-flower so early? I understand you cannot implant something as inelegant as barkskin—”
“Thank you for your concern, Instructor. I have decided. I need some form of self defense when we go to the weald tomorrow.”
“You need not worry—” Wartorn assured then clamped her mouth shut.
“Even if no topiary horrors appear tomorrow, I will not travel the weald without protection ever again,” Spring said with her back straight and her gaze locked into the distance. “I will have the power to protect myself, should I face topiary horrors ever again.”
She lowered her gaze and looked Wartorn in the eye. “I don’t know who sent me here. I don’t know their intentions. Nobody will speak to me, nor say anything, but I have a chance to train and get stronger, I will not waste it. Those who stand in the way of my progress are my enemies.”
Spring kept a heroic bearing, speaking words which would elicit compassion from the listener. Madam Wartorn seemed moved, the glint of indecision sparkling in her eye. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again and sighed.
“Please select the flame-flower you like, Miss Searing. I will help you implant it,” the woman said, unease and some apologetic emotion tinging her voice.
Damn. She didn’t bite. Spring glared ice at the woman, chilling her in the sweltering room, yet other than retreating a step, Madam Wartorn made no other moves.
Fine. Spring turned away from her and examined the grafts, searching for the healthiest and most mature plant.
The hunter school’s herbarium was a large yet humble single-story building. Within, the clan kept the initial two grafts almost every Searing Flame hunter started their career with, level one barkskin and level one flame-flower.
Barkskin temporarily covered one’s skin in tough bark, akin to the skin of level one topiary horrors, drawing mana to spread, then continuously consuming a trickle while active. Flame-flower allowed the user to shoot a firebolt by expending a huge amount of mana. The firebolt’s lethality varied, depending on the user’s stage and level.
If fueled by maroon mana, the flaming projectile would exist for an eye-blink and dissipate after covering a few paces, unable to inflict damage. However, if a student with vermillion mana shot it, the bolt could cover twenty meters before dissipating, posing lethal threat to those within five meters while inflicting serious burns to those standing within fifteen meters.
For this reason, most hunters chose barkskin as their first graft, implanting it on the inner thigh, or calves, to protect the implant’s main body. Once they reached the peak of level one, flame-flowers became their life-saving trumps, slaying a threat within twenty meters at the cost of depleting the host’s entire mana supply.
Naturally, more experienced hunters could limit the mana output and better use the graft, but mastering such techniques was beyond the scope of the Searing Flame clan’s hunter school.
Just as Spring had expected, her fellow students had congregated around the barkskin pond, giving the floating patches of moss-covered bark eager looks.
“Barkskin is the most basic implant,” Madam Wartorn said, “You only need to moisten your skin and place it atop of it. It will burrow into your flesh, growing tendrils on its own until it touches upon your mana circuit. You will need to feed the implant with your mana for a while. The time varies, and there doesn’t seem to be a rule. For some it will take fifteen minutes until you can control it, for others it may take an hour, and proportionally more mana. I will harvest the implants you choose, and guide you verbally, should you have any doubts. Remember to be calm and breathe. The implantation hurts, but I assure you, you will suffer no harm.”
The one-legged woman paused, giving her students enough time to voice their questions. However, they remained silent, and she continued speaking.
“Barkskin is a living creature, while its effect is not,” she lied with the full conviction of those who did not understand how plants worked. “So, you need to keep the implant protected. Most people choose to plant it in their calves. Thighs are a safer choice, but the discomfort brought by rubbing the rough bark against your skin all the time is a hassle. Should the implant suffer damage, it will need time to heal. If it breaks, it will perish, and you will have to purchase a new one. Questions?”
Cassie, a tall, lean young woman with brown hair, raised her hand. “Can we bandage it for comfort?”
Wartorn smiled and nodded, “As always, a great question, Cassiette. That seems like a logical solution. However, barkskin requires frequent watering. For it to stay healthy, its moss needs to keep a deep emerald color. If you cover it, it may develop mold, and you will have a lot of trouble healing it. Most hunters throw barkskin away once it develops any strange symptoms, since it’s easier to purchase a new implant than stress over possible malfunctions.”
The instructor paused for breath and continued. “Just so you know, extracting barkskin hurts twice more than implanting it. You will also need to waste mana again after you re-implant it. Despite what I just said, several of you will probably try to plant it in a place other than your calf. I won’t try to talk you out of it, in every generation someone manages to implant barkskin in a more secure spot, and hunters have survived thanks to that. Right…”
She paused again, catching everyone’s attention and letting the silence stretch long enough for several youths to gulp.
“If barkskin perishes, its armor will become a rigid shell, entrapping you until it breaks and falls off. I recommend you place barkskin in a better protected location, if you have the willpower to endure it until you get used to it. I, personally, lacked willpower. Today, I regret my choice.” She glanced down at her peg leg.
Is there a more profound reason disabled hunters act as instructors? I thought it was only to employ the maimed, but seeing the consequences of your choices may also be a part of it. Spring did not understand humans enough. She foolishly thought the sight of someone else’s misfortune would prompt those youths into increased alertness, Meanwhile, Madam Wartorn stood before her as a proof of the warning’s futile nature.
The middle aged woman shook herself out of her daze and looked back at her class. “Alright, pick your implants. I will harvest them for you.”
One by one, the students pointed at the floating plants, and Wartorn wadded through water, severing the hair-thin white tendrils. She picked them up and handed them over, with Spring watching the entire scene from a different perspective.
Thank Bloom I can’t smell their screams. Finally, it was her turn, but Spring shook her head. “I will take a flame-flower.”
Wartorn nodded, surprising Spring with her lack of surprise.
“I’ll help the rest implant their barkskins, then I will lead you to choose your implant.”
Spring shrugged, and the instructor went to work. Nine youths implanted barkskin on their inner thighs. Most of them were the toughest students, but surprisingly, Cassie was among their number.
The weakest screamed, while others grit their teeth, went pale or sweated buckets. Wartorn took an hour and a half to help them attach the rough bark covered in lush moss.
“Lay down, rest, and let barkskin connect with you. We’re leaving once I’m done with Miss Searing. Don’t even think about touching the implants from the pool. Theft will get you expelled, stripped of your newly gained implants, and exiled from the clan into the weald, where you stand no chance of surviving.”
So, if I want to get away, all I have to do is steal some worthless grafts? Spring mulled the thought as she followed Wartorn towards the next chamber’s entrance. Nah. There’s no easy escape for me. The Searings would probably pay for any damages, and I would be in even greater trouble than I am now.
Wartorn undid the lock and led Spring in. A wave of sweltering steam struck Spring’s face with almost physical force. The chamber was much smaller than the previous one, a snug sauna with dozens of heaters consuming mana and wood to create overpowering heat.
Two hundred reddish-orange orchid-shaped flowers hung from suspended logs, swaying in the breeze created by the heat escaping the room. The beautiful plants had delicate scarlet bodies and red, wavy leaves, absorbing the heat and moisture from the air for sustenance.
“Flame-flowers need heat to thrive. They need to eat every eight to ten hours, unlike barkskin, which you can water once a week. They constantly draw a bit of your heat, but you also need to have small lumps of coal or wood they will devour for their meals. Hungry flame-flowers will emerge from your skin for feeding and won’t retract until you feed them. They get sick if they miss two meals in five days, they wither when they miss more than four meals in five days.”
Wartorn paused for a moment. “Are you certain you want a flame-flower so early? I understand you cannot implant something as inelegant as barkskin—”
“Thank you for your concern, Instructor. I have decided. I need some form of self defense when we go to the weald tomorrow.”
“You need not worry—” Wartorn assured then clamped her mouth shut.
“Even if no topiary horrors appear tomorrow, I will not travel the weald without protection ever again,” Spring said with her back straight and her gaze locked into the distance. “I will have the power to protect myself, should I face topiary horrors ever again.”
She lowered her gaze and looked Wartorn in the eye. “I don’t know who sent me here. I don’t know their intentions. Nobody will speak to me, nor say anything, but I have a chance to train and get stronger, I will not waste it. Those who stand in the way of my progress are my enemies.”
Spring kept a heroic bearing, speaking words which would elicit compassion from the listener. Madam Wartorn seemed moved, the glint of indecision sparkling in her eye. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again and sighed.
“Please select the flame-flower you like, Miss Searing. I will help you implant it,” the woman said, unease and some apologetic emotion tinging her voice.
Damn. She didn’t bite. Spring glared ice at the woman, chilling her in the sweltering room, yet other than retreating a step, Madam Wartorn made no other moves.
Fine. Spring turned away from her and examined the grafts, searching for the healthiest and most mature plant.
