The terrifying maw gaped wide, and Alaric froze. A paralyzing fear seized him; this couldn't be happening. A flood of frantic thoughts crashed through his mind.
Why is this beast attacking me?
Isn't killing forbidden in the city?
Why is this happening to me?
Then, deep within his soul, the Celestial Lily stirred. It began to rotate gently, emanating a tranquil aura that washed over him. In that single, breathtaking instant, the panic receded. His mind cleared, and the world snapped into focus.
The fear vanished from his eyes. He stood his ground, his composure regained, and saw the two-headed vulture for what it was: a hazy, grey silhouette, more fog than feather.
Alaric’s eyes narrowed. "An illusion?" he murmured.
The next moment, the menacing shape passed through his body like smoke and dissipated into the air. Alaric remained rooted to the spot, trying to comprehend what had just happened.
"Oh? You saw through the illusion?" a slightly surprised voice echoed through the shop.
"Who's there?" Alaric spun around, his alarm returning, but the shop was empty.
"Down here, you fool."
"What in the world?" Alaric looked down. His gaze fell upon a diminutive man, no more than four feet tall. He was old, with fair skin, a gleaming bald head, sharply pointed ears, and a thick white beard that cascaded over his white tunic. He wore simple brown pants and black boots.
As Alaric stared, the little man scrutinized him in return, a curious glint in his eye. After all, this youth had seen through his illusion—and more surprising still, he was a mundane, with no trace of mana about him.
Recognition dawned on Alaric’s face. He stared at the pipe the man was smoking, then back at his pointed ears and beard. Crouching down, he asked with unrestrained excitement, "Wow! Are you a dwarf? This is the first time I’ve ever—ouch!"
Before Alaric could finish, the little man had whipped the pipe from his mouth and rapped him smartly on the head with its stem.
"Hmph! I'm a gnome, not a dwarf!" the gnome harrumphed, placing the pipe back between his lips and drawing on it contentedly.
Alaric rubbed his forehead, grumbling. "S-Sorry, sir."
"Hmph." The gnome nodded, his eyes fixing Alaric with a penetrating stare. "Now, tell me, boy. How did you see through my illusion? It was only a minor spell, true, but it should have been impossible for a mundane like you to pierce it."
So it was an illusion, Alaric thought, his gaze settling on the gnome. And this man… he had to be a Magus.
He remembered the moment the two-headed vulture had lunged, the brief resonance of the Celestial Lily within him. He knew the Lily was responsible for piercing the illusion, but he certainly couldn't tell the old gnome that.
He put on his most innocent expression. "See through it? I don't know about that. I just… had a feeling the vulture wasn’t real."
"Instinct, eh?" The gnome stared into Alaric's eyes for a long moment, as if trying to peer directly into his soul.
"Fine, whatever." With a dismissive wave of his hand, the gnome turned and shuffled back to a large wooden counter, his interest apparently lost.
Alaric followed him. "Sir, why did you cast that illusion anyway? You know, I nearly jumped out of my skin."
"Heh," the gnome chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye as he took another puff from his pipe. "What's life without a little fun and excitement?"
Alaric suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. He took a moment to look around the shop properly and realized it was far larger on the inside than it appeared from the street. The walls were lined with rows of wooden shelves, each one laden with all manner of herbs, spices, and dried flowers.
A small waiting area with comfortable-looking couches and tea tables sat in the center of the room. A pleasant, medicinal aroma filled the air, a calming scent that seemed to soothe the nerves.
The gnome had settled himself behind the main counter, which was backed by towering shelves packed with countless books. Some were new, with crisp spines, while others looked ancient and well-worn.
Another wall was dedicated to neatly organized potions of every conceivable color, gleaming in the soft light. Beside them were jars of ointments and vials of oil. Thanks to the memories he had absorbed, Alaric found he could identify a great many of them.
This was just the first floor. A spiral staircase coiled its way up to a second level, its secrets hidden from view.
He drifted toward the wall of potions, all of them carefully stored in translucent crystal vials and flasks.
His gaze landed on a familiar crimson liquid—a healing potion. He moved toward it, plucked the vial from the shelf, and uncorked it, taking a deep whiff of its refreshing aroma.
The gnome’s head snapped up, his expression instantly souring at Alaric’s audacity. "Boy, don’t you go touching things without permi—"
His words, however, caught in his throat.
"Honey from the Stripewing Bees, Stonecap Moss, the stem of a Glow-spore Vine, and…" Alaric swirled the crimson liquid, his brow furrowed in concentration. "There's some kind of earthen powder mixed in, too. Hmm, I can't quite place that last one."
He looked up at the gnome. "Sir, this powder… it's one of your own additions, isn't it? An experiment?"
The gnome stared, his pipe forgotten in his hand. His gaze flicked from Alaric to the potion and back again, his disbelief palpable.
This boy is a mundane, with no mana flowing in his veins, he thought, bewildered. So how is this possible?
He finally spoke, his voice laced with incredulity. "Boy, how do you know so much about herbalism? I refuse to believe you’re an Herbalist."
Alaric winced internally. He’d let his enthusiasm get the better of him. Seeing the potions, he had been too eager to test the expert knowledge he’d gained from the absorbed memories.
"Heh." Alaric laughed sheepishly, scrambling for a plausible lie. "It's all just theoretical knowledge from books. I’m certainly not an Herbalist, sir. I’m not even a Magus yet."
The old gnome was silent for a long time. Finally, he walked out from behind the counter and approached Alaric. He took the vial from the youth’s hand and gave a slow nod. "You're right. The powder is from the shell of a Fen Wyrm. A little experiment of my own."
"I see…" Alaric nodded. The absorbed memories contained a vast wealth of herbalism knowledge, but he knew it couldn't possibly encompass every ingredient in the world.
After all, who knew what undiscovered reagents lay hidden in forgotten corners of the earth.
"Sir, I'd like to buy this healing potion," Alaric said, his tone respectful.
"Five platinum pieces," the gnome replied flatly. "Or fifty gold pieces."
Alaric inhaled sharply. "That's… so expensive!"
A mischievous smile spread across the gnome's face. "Of course," he proposed, "I could also give it to you for free…"
Alaric immediately grew wary. "W-What do you want in return?"