17 – Watering the Bluebells

“I brought you some new robes,” Alynur said, placing a stack of neatly folded blue clothes on a chair near the door. “Meet me in the main hall when you’re dressed.”

With great reluctance, I made my bed again and pulled on the new robes. I was beat, but if the Senior Archmage had a task for me, there’s no way I was going to let him down. I splashed some cold water on my face to wake myself, then headed into the main hall to meet him.

“Follow me.” He led the way up the spiral stone stairs that encircled the central chamber. We passed the rooms of Myrl, Erl, Linli, and Bagavash. Snoring like a beast in a cave could be heard from Erl’s room.

As we ascended higher, we passed Alynur’s office and his quarters, both of which I had never seen the interior of. The top floor of the tower opened up into a wide ring with a banister that overlooked the central chamber. When I peered over the edge, I could see the luminescent dragon orb hovering over the circular dining table below.

Along the wall of the ring-shaped floor were shelves and shelves of books interspersed by ornate windows that let in the morning sun. There were comfortable-looking chairs and low tables scattered all around the space. I was surprised I hadn’t been up here before.

“Our humble library,” Alynur said, gesturing around with an upturned palm. “You are welcome to use it whenever you like. There are texts on the history of the Earthly Realm, medicinal plants, and spell progressions. Though I doubt you’ll find much about that void affinity of yours.”

“Thank you, Senior Archmage. Do you want me to dust it? Or organize it?”

“No. The library is not the reason I brought you up here. Come.” He led the way around the stone platform to a set of rickety stairs, ascending them with relative ease for his great age, and pushing open an overhead trapdoor that led to the roof.

When I emerged from the stuffy interior into the crisp morning air, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The entire roof of the tower was covered in little blue flowers. There was about a foot of dark, loamy soil filling the circular space ringed by the crumbling battlements, and all about sprouted these beautiful flowers. The scent wafting off of them was amazing. It reminded me of lilac and honeysuckle and jasmine all rolled into one.

“This is amazing,” I said, the tone of awe and wonder obvious in my voice.

“You didn’t think Bluebell Tower was named that for nothing, did you?” He arched an ancient eyebrow as he peered at me over his spectacles.

“It makes sense,” I said, gazing out at the impossible field of blue and green.

“I understand you learned [Healing Water]? Linli mentioned you picked up that spell while you were in the rift.”

I nodded.

“Good. A versatile spell with many uses. Not only does the water it creates heal wounds, but it can also be an excellent fortifier for plant growth. If you don’t mind…”

The Senior Archmage ambled over to a rusty spigot protruding from the roof. He twisted the nob and clear water came trickling out, filling a metal watering can that waited beneath it.

When the can was almost full, Alynur shut off the spigot and carried it back to me. “Would you fill the rest with [Healing Water]?”

“Of course,” I said. I’d forgotten my staff back in my room, not that it would be that much use with how damaged it was, so I retrieved the spell circle from my inner sight and traced out the design using my fingers.

“[Healing Water].”

The spell circle glowed deep blue, and the glob of sparkly water appeared in the air in front of it. I directed the glob into the watering can, where it mixed with the regular water in glowing swirls.

“I used to have Linli do this,” Alynur explained, “but frankly, I don’t think the flowers liked him very much.”

“You never learned [Healing Water]?” I asked. Part of me was afraid that I was prying too much into the Archmage’s life. But then again, it was a relatively harmless question. If he didn’t want to talk about his own spell choices, he didn’t have to.

“I’m afraid my only affinity is in charm magic,” he said. “An old affinity. You don’t see it very much these days.”

“Charm magic? What does that do? I never heard any of the other wizards mention it.” I knew I might be pushing my luck, but while I had the Senior Archmage here, I wanted to learn as much about him as I could.

Instead of answering me, he simply raised his staff and whispered the words, “[Profusion of Beauty].”

An iridescent, rainbow-colored spell circle bloomed in front of him, like the colors of a soap bubble or an oil slick. Then, to my amazement, his staff burst into a thousand butterflies, fluttering out onto the flowers and spiraling upwards into the blue of the sky.

“Not very useful against hordes of undead,” he said, “but there are more important things in life than battling monsters.”

“Alynur, I mean, Senior Archmage Alynur,” I said, correcting myself. “Why is it that we ponder our orbs when it seems like absorbing monster orbs is a faster way to accumulate mana?”

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“A very good question,” he said, picking up the mana-infused watering can. “And one that strikes at the heart of mana cultivation. Do we attract it ourselves? Or take what others have gained?”

He walked on a winding path between the bluebells, watering each as he went. “Most take the latter approach, harvesting the mana that has been concentrated in monsters. It is by far the quicker method. But mana that is gained through meditation, through pondering the orb as we say, is far more powerful in the long run.”

I followed him along the narrow path as he watered the plants, explaining the foundations of mana cultivation. I was tired as hell, but I didn’t know the next chance I would get to pick the brain of one of the greatest wizards alive.

I was drinking up this knowledge like a parched man at an oasis.

“It’s akin to getting a meal at the tavern versus making it yourself. While tavern food will sustain you, it was made in a rush to fill customer demand. A home-cooked meal on the other hand, especially one with vegetables from your own garden, is tailored specifically for you. In every step of the process, the food is absorbing some of your energy, learning what it is you need. The same is true for cultivating mana. The mana you gain from pondering will produce stronger, longer-lasting spells. Differences that, while in the lower levels may seem insignificant, become vast as you grow stronger.”

“I see,” I said. I was beginning to regret using so many monster orbs to level up while I was in the rift.

“The wizards in the White Tower have all but abandoned pondering the orb in favor of monster-culling cultivation. Siulius believes the world is moving too fast now, that quick strength will be more useful than slow strength. But then again, we have always had our differences…”

The Senior Archmage got quiet as he emptied the last of the water onto a particularly beautiful flower. One by one, the butterflies returned, coalescing into a long shape that transformed back into the Archmage’s staff.

“Do you mind finishing the job?” he said, handing the watering can to me. “Unfortunately, at my age, the pain in my back makes tasks like this challenging.”

I looked around the field of bluebells on the top of the tower. The single bucket had watered maybe five percent of the total space. I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. It seemed daunting, but I nodded.