43. Apprenticeship

Alistair had let himself expect too much again. After Threader touched a strand of flow, some younger and greedier part of Alistair had expected power to follow immediately. Flow was the foundation of enchantments, voidships, flowcasting, potions, and countless other wonders. Being able to touch it directly should have changed everything.

The reality was less glamorous. Threader could touch a flow strand. With Flowseer’s perception shared between clones, he could even find one again after sustained focus. But touching was not the same as using. He could brush against a strand, disturb it slightly, and sometimes hold contact for a heartbeat longer than before. None of that taught him how to shape it into an effect, bind it into a stable pattern, or make it useful.

The discovery had given him an opening, but Alistair still did not know how to use it.

He knew he was being unfair. A Threader touching flow at all was absurd. The result itself was not the problem. The foolish part was expecting one impossible discovery to become an advantage immediately.

He had to remind himself that his strength had never worked that way. Clonemancer’s power did not come from overwhelming force. It came from combining many small advantages into something larger. Classes became useful through patience, planning, practice, and the right application. Even his strongest successes had come from systematic use, not sudden miracles.

Threader had given him a beginning. Now he needed a method, and potion brewing was the closest one he had seen.

The logic was too useful to ignore. Mirel’s work had shown him flow strands being extracted, guided, combined, and stabilized. Threader could touch flow strands, while Flowseer could see them. If Alistair could learn even the basics of brewing, he might gain a practical way to develop both classes at once.

The benefits went beyond learning. Even ordinary potions had value, unlike rare treasures such as the VIT potion. Lesser brews could aid operations, improve recovery, prepare clones for certain work, or create practical advantages for future plans. More importantly, they could earn shards. Alistair had spent too long scraping together resources through small jobs, gathered materials, and risky opportunities. A proper potion business would be a different level of income.

The island had little room for another Apothecary selling common brews to locals. Dorelle and Verevain already had their own Apothecaries, and a small island could not support much competition. But Emerier was a harbor island. Merchants came and went constantly. Potions could be sold outward, carried to other islands, and turned into profit without threatening Mirel’s local customers. The margins would be lower, since merchants would take their cut, but the idea still worked. For someone with a single life and a single trade, it might be wiser to leave for a larger island and practice there. For Alistair, it would only be another side business and another persona.

The reasonable way to learn was obvious. He needed a teacher.

A master could explain combinations, ratios, mistakes, and the difference between flow strands. Mirel had already proven she could work with rare ingredients, and her skill clearly involved extraction and infusion. She was also ambitious enough to be moved by the right offer.

There were two problems, starting with convincing her to teach him at all. He would likely have to promise not to compete for the local market, or at least not to do so in a way that damaged her business. He might also have to offer more than shards. Mirel had already shown that rare ingredients interested her far more than ordinary payment.

The second problem was difficult even to explain. Threader could not manipulate flow properly without seeing it, and seeing it required Flowseer. That meant the student needed another masked person standing near him during lessons.

If it had been Shade, Alistair might have hidden him nearby and avoided the problem. Flowseer needed to stay close to help. Trying to hide Flowseer in a corner like a thief would only create suspicion or make the arrangement fail.

After a day of considering the problem through several bodies, Alistair decided he would have to make it work openly. Convincing Mirel might still be possible. If he offered her a reliable channel for difficult ingredients, she might overlook the uniqueness of his conditions.

For a time, he considered relocating fully to Dorelle. The area had demanded increasing attention recently, and the tutoring would only add to that. But the unfinished base was almost ready. Soon, his main body would move there, and that would solve part of the problem. He could afford a few more days near Dorelle before settling into a more stable arrangement.

Once he had the plan, he summoned Threader and Flowseer. Threader would be the student. Flowseer would attend as an associate. Both wore enchanted masks when they approached Mirel’s estate. Mirel had no reason to know the difference between them, and Alistair intended to keep it that way. To her, one masked man had brought the flower. Now that man had returned with an associate tied to the gathering of rare materials. For Mirel, that explanation would serve.

Mirel was outside when they arrived. She stood among the cultivated beds near the front of the estate, sleeves rolled up and gloved hands working carefully through a row of low herbs with pale-veined leaves. Her focus was so intense that she did not notice them until they were near the gate. Only then did her head lift.

Her eyes moved first to Threader’s mask, then to Flowseer’s.

“Oh,” she said. “You came back.”

Threader inclined his head. “Marek Vale.”

Mirel looked at him for another moment. “And him?”

“An associate.”

Flowseer gave an appropriate nod and said nothing.

“I have a proposal,” Threader said.

The words caught her attention. Mirel stripped off one glove and pointed toward a shaded table near the garden.

“Then sit. I was about to have tea.”

The shaded spot stood beneath a simple awning beside the herb beds. The plants nearby gave the air a refreshing scent, and the shade kept the morning warmth from becoming uncomfortable.

Mirel poured tea for all three of them.

Alistair had not expected much from it. Tea had never been a habit he could afford, and most drinks he encountered now were chosen for cover, convenience, or cheap strength rather than enjoyment. Yet the first sip through Threader’s body made him pause.

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It was unreasonably good. Warmth spread through his mouth first, followed by a soft bitterness that faded into something calmer. Unlike ale, it settled into the body in a way that made the shoulders loosen. Flowseer understood why. Under Flow Sight, the tea carried gentle, carefully arranged traces of flow. They were gentle rather than powerful, and they had a purpose. Some resembled the flow he had observed in resting clones. Others matched faint patterns from herbs growing nearby. Mirel had probably used her skill on the drink, less to make a potion than to guide the preparation into something more effective than tea.

Alistair suddenly wished his main body were the one tasting it.

Mirel sat across from them and watched Threader over her cup.

“You said you had a proposal,” she said.

“I want to learn potion brewing from you.”

For the first time since he had known her, Mirel went completely still.

Threader continued before she could decide whether to be offended. “In exchange, I can help you acquire rare ingredients, as long as they can be found on the island. I would avoid selling locally without speaking to you first. My main market would be merchants carrying goods to other islands. I am willing to sign terms on that.”

Mirel did not answer right away. Her confusion was clear. Alistair could almost see her rearranging everything she thought she knew. Then realization reached her.

“You watched me brewing the VIT potion,” she muttered.

Mirel’s eyes narrowed. For several breaths, the only sound was the movement of leaves in the garden and the faint clink of her cup touching the table.

Alistair did not fill the silence. He had expected this reaction. Mirel had accepted his presence during the brewing because she wanted the flower, but accepting the presence of a curious client was different from knowingly allowing a potential brewer to watch. She did not seem angry enough to end the conversation, though.

Finally, Mirel leaned back.

“I cannot give you a formal apprenticeship,” she said.

The answer was unexpected, but he was not about to complain.

“That is fine.”

“Let me finish.” Her voice was firm, but not hostile. “A formal apprenticeship comes with commitments I am not willing to make. It would not matter much here, but if you want to work openly on a larger island, you will need a license. A proper license requires exams, and a master willing to put their name behind you. If you go that route later, you will need to do it again.”

“I understand.”

“Second, I will not spend much time teaching you. My mornings are for my garden, and my workshop already takes more time than I have.”

“That works.”

“As for not selling locally, I appreciate the offer, but I will not require it.” Her mouth twitched. “Do not take this badly, but you will not become real competition to me for a long time.”

Alistair almost admired the confidence.

Mirel continued before he could answer. “The only reason I am considering this is because I need certain resources that are difficult to find and harvest, and you seem to have a way to get them.”

Her eyes flicked toward Flowseer for half a breath.

She was not saying it aloud, but the meaning was obvious. The Vitalicious Flowbloom had convinced her that he could reach materials other people could not. That was the leverage Alistair had hoped for.

“I can provide materials,” Threader said, careful not to promise too much. “If they can be found on the island.”

Mirel studied him, then nodded.

“If we do this, it will be three lessons a week, in the afternoon. My mornings remain mine. Payment will be one item from my list every month. You will acquire it, deliver it in usable condition, and cover whatever cost or trouble is involved. I will not pay you for the item, and I will not cover failed attempts.”

The terms were harsh, but not surprising. She was trading knowledge for access to materials.

“What kind of items?” Threader asked.

Mirel rose, walked to a small cabinet near the wall, and returned with a folded sheet.