Meditation

"Aunt Susan, this is for you."

Back home, Annan handed Aunt Susan a brand-new floral dress. "It took me ages to find the right size."

"Oh, I'm so touched! Little Annan even brought me a present." Aunt Susan's eyes reddened, and she looked like a starving brown bear.

Then Annan turned to Martin, whom Aunt Susan had squeezed aside, and took out a long object wrapped in brown paper.

Martin snatched it up and tore off the wrapping. Inside was a wooden sword much like the rapier Mr. Fast wore at his side.

Attentive as ever, Annan had noticed how left out Martin felt. Ever since Annan became a Sorcerer, Martin no longer spent his days grinning like a pink starfish.

"Annan... from now on, you're my cousin!"

"When you have time, you can ask Faster for pointers. He might even take you as an apprentice," Annan said.

Though the chances were slim.

Leaving Martin to hug his wooden sword in delight, Annan looked at Uncle Holin, who stood nearby with a simple grin.

Uncle Holin did not say much, but he cared for Annan no less than Aunt Susan did. He had never complained about Annan's expenses, either—

Annan took out a Forged-Steel Axe wrapped in scraps of cloth. "I didn't know what you'd like, so I bought you an axe. You can chop more wood with less effort."

Uncle Holin accepted the axe, then kept grinning from ear to ear.

Holding her floral dress, Aunt Susan suddenly looked heartbroken. "Little Annan, are you leaving us?"

"No... of course not."

Annan thought about how meditation required quiet, but Martin did not snore. And though Annan would need to set up a ritual, Martin would not disturb it.

He would keep living at Aunt Susan's house.

Aunt Susan had not known Annan was coming home today, so she hurried to buy vegetables and meat before the market closed. Martin would miss the meal, though. He had gone to work at the tavern with his cherished wooden sword.

Hopefully Martin won't carry it while serving drinks. If an angry Faster throws it away, there's nowhere in town to buy another wooden sword.

That evening, Annan shared a happy dinner with Aunt Susan and Uncle Holin, almost as though they were a family of three.

Back in his familiar room, he climbed into the bed Aunt Susan had washed and aired, then tried once more to meditate without magical materials—

In the morning, Annan woke from a deep sleep to find Martin asleep in his bed. Martin had traded the blanket he usually hugged for the wooden sword, and drool lay along its tip.

Annan could picture Martin wielding this plague-ridden sword against Mr. Fast. Mr. Fast's agility would go up by one, and his sanity would drop by one.

Perhaps because he had gone to bed earlier than usual, the sun had yet to rise above the treetops of the forest outside town.

Annan left the room and saw Uncle Holin preparing to chop wood. He had the Forged-Steel Axe with him, but he had also brought his old, battered axe.

"Uncle Holin, that makes the new axe pointless..." Annan said helplessly. He did not need to watch to know which axe Uncle Holin would use to chop wood.

"How is it pointless?" Uncle Holin stroked the Forged-Steel Axe. "This axe will make all those woodcutters jealous—"

At that moment, Uncle Holin looked remarkably like a city noblewoman showing off her dress.

Annan ate breakfast while it was hot. Just as the sun rose and its light fell across his forehead and into his eyes, he found himself wondering: was this world, with its own sun and moon, a parallel Earth, or another star system with a similar satellite?

At least, when Annan looked up in the stillness of night, he saw an unfamiliar sky full of stars.

Annan arrived at the Library more than ten minutes early as usual, and Mr. Victor arrived right on time as usual.

They had not seen each other in days, but the old man did not ask whether Annan had managed to meditate. He merely handed him the key.

Annan took it and opened the Library doors.

The long-missed scent of ink filled him with fondness and delight. He cleaned the floor and bookshelves first, then joined Mr. Victor in the sunlight and asked how to set up a meditation ritual.

"Magic Eagle feathers, Glowgrass, Gnoll teeth..." Annan recited the materials for the basic ritual.

"Crush them in order, put them in the Cauldron, add enough water, and bring it to a boil over low heat."

"How much is enough water? How low is low heat?"

This had bothered Annan for a long time. Somehow, this world still had no precise units of measurement. A spoonful... roughly... half a cup... a palmful... more or less... it all came down to guesswork.

"Enough water and fire to last through your whole night of meditation."

"You don't brew it into a potion and drink it?" Annan realized the Meditation Ritual was not quite what he had imagined.

"Drink it? Those things would turn you into something monstrous," Mr. Victor said sarcastically. "You could drink a Meditation Potion instead. Five gold a bottle."

"How many days does one bottle last?" Annan thought a potion sounded much easier than setting up the ritual himself.

"Once."

So, one day.

Sixteen gold could buy a month's worth of low-grade Magic Materials, but potions would last only three days...

Annan gave up on potions and listened as Victor explained the details of the Meditation Ritual, committing them to memory. When Victor finished, it was Annan's turn to recount his time in Breeze City. But when he mentioned the gifts he had bought for Aunt Susan's family, Mr. Victor gave a sudden cold snort.

"Uh..."

Annan had almost forgotten that Mr. Victor was a sensitive old eccentric who longed to be cared about.

Sure enough, Victor gave him the cold shoulder for the rest of the day.

In the quiet dusk, Annan locked the Library after Victor left. He spent twenty copper coins on a few pounds of bread and about half a pound of lamb, then went home.

Aunt Susan scolded him a little for wasting money and even tried to give him some.

Annan refused Aunt Susan. He had once avoided buying things for the household because he was saving up to have his aptitude tested. Now that he was a Sorcerer, and faced expenses measured in gold coins, there was no need to pinch these coppers.

Still, he would keep working at the tavern and the Library.

Annan told Aunt Susan he needed a room to himself for meditation. She agreed without hesitation—and before he knew it, Martin's bed had been moved to the woodshed.

Before night fell, Annan hurried to the tavern. Tasia wanted to return the book Bastard, but Annan told her to come to the Library tomorrow to exchange it. Then he went into the kitchen and put on his apron.

As the customers arrived and saw Annan was back, they urged him to put on his nobleman's clothes again.

Annan nearly agreed. He would have, if they had offered more than a few dozen copper coins.

Mr. Fast had heard about Breeze City from Soluman Copperbeard, so he did not ask Annan about it.

Annan's second day back in Pinglin Town passed peacefully. Late that night, he returned to Aunt Susan's house and began the most important task: meditation.

He divided the magical materials into thirty portions, lit the firewood, and placed the materials into the Cauldron one by one. With that done, Annan sat before the fire and let the ritual guide him—

The magical materials formed the basis of the meditation. As Annan meditated, his senses reached outward like tendrils. Gradually, he felt himself become a tiny vortex, drawing in the Magic Power around him without end...

The night passed in silence.