The world in words

On the third day after Loa returned from Baruch Mansion, Old Jack had another batch of repaired farm tools to deliver.

"Six sickles and two axes this time." The old man handed the bundled tools to Loa. "Take them to the same place and find Hiri, the steward."

Loa took hold of the binding rope. The bundle was heavy. He nodded without asking any questions, but the little flame in his heart had already begun to burn.

Books. Those books.

Over the past three days, those images had played over and over in his mind. A Wind Wolf's fangs were not straight but curved, better suited to tearing muscle. The bumps on a Poison Arrow Frog's back followed a pattern, with its poison gland beneath the largest one. The feathers at the tips of a Thunderbird's wings were forked, reducing air turbulence during flight...

And then there were the maps. East of Fenlai City lay the Pu'ang Kingdom, and west lay the Rhine Kingdom. The main ridge of the Magical Beast Mountain Range ran northwest to southeast, with branches spreading like tree roots. The capital of the O'Brien Empire was Chier County City, with a small annotation beside it: a strong martial tradition, with a nationwide martial tournament held every year.

These details filled every gap between training and smithing. Lying in bed at night, he would trace the outlines of maps in the darkness with his finger, imagining what those mountains and rivers really looked like.

Now another chance had come.

Carrying the tools, Loa walked faster than usual. The autumn afternoon sunshine was lovely, warming the flagstone road.

Loa paid no attention and kept walking. His thoughts had already flown to that rose-covered corridor, to that old bookshelf.

At the mansion's side gate, the guard recognized him and nodded him through. Loa made his way across the courtyard with practiced ease, heading for the corridor in the back courtyard.

Hiri was not there.

The corridor was deserted. The wicker chair was empty, and the ledger was gone as well. Only the bookshelf still stood against the wall, its spines showing the pale yellow peculiar to old paper in the sunlight.

Loa hesitated, set the tools against the wall, and stood at the edge of the corridor to wait. His eyes, however, kept straying toward the bookshelf.

The Common Magical Beasts Illustrated Guide was the third book from the left on the second shelf. The Yulan Continent Gazetteer stood beside it. There were also several he had not read-Basic Herb Identification, A Brief History of the Yulan Continent, An Introduction to Noble Heraldry...

He was so absorbed that he did not notice the footsteps.

"You're here rather early."

Startled, Loa turned around. Hiri had appeared at the other end of the corridor at some point, carrying a tray with a pot of tea and two cups. The old man wore a dark gray outer robe today and looked a little more formal than last time.

"Grandpa Hiri." Loa hurriedly bowed.

"Leave the tools there." Hiri set the tray on the little table beside the wicker chair, sat down, and poured two cups of tea. Steam rose from the tea, carrying a faint herbal fragrance. "Sit. Have some tea."

Loa paused, then carefully sat on the bench on the other side of the wicker chair, perching on its edge. He accepted the cup. It was hot, and he cradled it in both hands, taking small sips.

The tea was a little bitter, but a sweetness lingered in his throat after he swallowed.

"Those books last time," Hiri said casually, taking a sip of tea. "How much could you understand?"

Loa thought for a moment before answering cautiously, "I knew all the words. There were some parts I didn't quite understand."

"Such as?"

"Such as... the pack habits of Wind Wolves." Loa set down his cup and gestured with both hands. "The book said they usually live in packs of five to ten, with a hierarchy. But it didn't explain how that hierarchy is decided. Is it through fighting, blood ties, or something else? Also, if you run into a wolf pack, what can you do besides keeping your back against the terrain?"

Hiri listened quietly and waited until he finished before speaking. "The hierarchy depends on fighting and seniority. The old pack leader is the strongest and also the most experienced. Blood ties matter too. The leader's offspring have higher standing." He paused. "As for running into a wolf pack... the best approach is not to run into one. If you can't avoid it, fire. Wolves fear fire."

Loa's eyes lit up, and he committed that to memory.

"Anything else?"

"Poison Arrow Frogs, too." Loa spoke a little more freely. "The book said their skin secretions are poisonous, with a range of three to five meters. But if you're downwind, could the wind carry the venom farther? Also, what kind of toxin is it? A neurotoxin? A blood toxin? What herbs would you use to treat it?"

As the questions came tumbling out, a trace of surprise flashed through Hiri's eyes. This child's questions were far too detailed. It did not seem like simple curiosity, but more like... more like preparation for something he might encounter one day.

"Wind direction affects the range. It travels farther downwind, while upwind it might not reach three meters," Hiri said slowly. "The toxin is a mixture, with components that paralyze the nerves and others that break down blood cells. For treatment... you need crushed purpleheart grass applied externally, along with silverleaf vine boiled in water and taken orally. But neither herb is easy to find."

Loa listened intently, engraving every word in his mind.

They talked a while longer, mostly with Loa asking and Hiri answering. All the questions concerned details in the books. Some Hiri knew, while others were unclear to him as well. When he did not know, the old man would say honestly, "I've never encountered that, and the book doesn't say."

By the third cup of tea, Hiri suddenly asked, "Besides teaching you to read, what else has Old Jack taught you?"

Loa thought for a moment. "Arithmetic and bookkeeping. He said even a blacksmith needs to know how to keep accounts, or he won't even know when someone cheats him."

"That's all?"

"That's all."

Hiri fell silent for a while, then looked toward the bookshelf. "Want to read some more?"

Loa's heart gave a sudden leap. He nodded emphatically. "Yes."

"Go ahead. It's raining today. You'd have nothing to do even if you went back."

Only then did Loa notice that the sky had clouded over at some point. Thick clouds piled overhead, and faint thunder rumbled in the distance. It really was going to rain.

He rose and walked to the bookshelf. This time, he chose Basic Herb Identification.

He opened it to find hand-drawn illustrations of herbs. The lines were somewhat finer than those in the magical beast guide, and each herb was labeled with its name, growing conditions, harvesting season, and main uses. Purpleheart grass preferred shade and moisture, usually grew beside streams in mountain valleys, was harvested in summer, and could counteract poison when applied externally. Silverleaf vine grew twined around trees; its stems were harvested in autumn and could be boiled in water to purge internal toxins...

Loa read page by page. He read very slowly, because he needed to remember not only what the herbs looked like but also their uses and what effects they produced when combined with other herbs.

Rain began to fall. First, a few drops tapped against the roof tiles, then quickly joined into a curtain of rain. Beyond the corridor, everything became a white, watery world, the rushing rain drowning out all other sounds.

Loa was immersed in the book. He read about wound-healing grass for treating injuries, frostflower for reducing fevers, and Bloodburn Fruit, which could temporarily boost physical strength-with a note in red beside it: severe side effects; use with caution.

So this world had so many kinds of medicinal herbs. Getting hurt or sick didn't mean you could only grit your teeth and endure it.

As he read, a question suddenly occurred to him: Did any of these herbs grow near Wushan Town? Could they be found in the Magical Beast Mountain Range?

Once that thought arose, he could no longer suppress it. He began deliberately memorizing the herbs' growing conditions-which preferred shade, which preferred sun, which needed to grow beside water, and which grew on cliffs. Then he matched them to the terrain of the Magical Beast Mountain Range in his mind.

If I went into the mountains someday, could I gather some herbs along the way? I could use them myself, and maybe even sell them...

The rain gradually eased. Loa closed the book and rubbed his aching eyes. He had read well over half of it today, memorizing the characteristics and uses of more than thirty herbs.

As he returned the book to its place, he realized Hiri had left at some point. The wicker chair was empty, and the teapot and cups had been cleared away. Only the rain outside the corridor was still pattering down.

Loa stood for a while, waiting until the rain had stopped completely before picking up the tools and leaving.

By the time he walked out of the mansion, the sky had darkened. Lights came on one after another around town, and cooking smoke drifted low through the damp air.

As he walked home, images of those herbs were still running through his mind. What purpleheart grass looked like, how to identify silverleaf vine, how many serrations there were on the leaves of wound-healing grass...

At the corner of the street where the smithy stood, he suddenly stopped.

Across the street, several children had surrounded a smaller child. The child in the middle wore coarse cloth clothes and stood with his head lowered, clutching something tightly in his hand. The children around him were laughing, and one reached out to snatch it.

"Come on, let me see. What treasure did you find?"

"Yeah, one look won't kill you."

The child in the middle fiercely protected what he held. He said nothing, only shook his head.

Loa recognized those children. They were the sons of the town's leatherworker and general store owner, and they were always bullying others. The one they had surrounded... looked a little familiar. He seemed to be the son of Aunt Maer, the widow at the west end of town. His name was Kevin, and he was only a little over four.

Loa had not intended to interfere. But he had already stepped forward.

"What are you doing?" Loa walked over. His voice was not loud, but all the children jumped and turned around.

Seeing that it was Loa, the boy leading them-Tom, the leatherworker's son-relaxed and curled his lip. "What's it to you? We're playing with Kevin."

"Playing?" Loa glanced at little Kevin, whose eyes had already reddened as he stood surrounded. "You call this playing?"

Tom grew a little annoyed. "What, you want a fight? I'll have you know my brother's in the guard!"

Loa did not answer. He walked up to Kevin and crouched down, making his voice as gentle as he could. "What happened?"

Kevin raised his head, tears brimming in his eyes. Slowly, he opened his hand. In his palm lay a stone of an unusual color, translucent, with wispy patterns inside that gave off a faint glow in the twilight.

"I... I found it by the river," Kevin said softly. "They said... they said they were going to take it..."

Loa examined the stone. It was not an ordinary pebble. It might have been some kind of ore, or perhaps something else. He did not recognize it, but it certainly was pretty.

He stood and looked at Tom and the others. "Kevin found that stone. You're trying to take it?"

"Who-who's taking anything!" Tom insisted stubbornly. "We just wanted a look!"

"Well, you've had your look now," Loa said. "You can leave, can't you?"

The children exchanged glances. Tom wanted to say something else, but at the sight of Loa's calm gaze, he felt inexplicably uneasy. He snorted and waved a hand. "This is boring. Let's go, let's go."

They scattered.

Only after watching them run off did Loa crouch down again and tell Kevin, "Next time you find something, don't just take it out and show people. Put it away and take it home to your mother."

Kevin nodded hard, clutching the stone tightly in his palm. "Thank you... thank you, Brother Loa."

"Go on home. It'll be dark soon."

Watching Kevin's small figure run into the distance, Loa stood where he was and suddenly remembered a passage he had just read in a book-the preface to A Brief History of the Yulan Continent:

"On this continent, power takes many forms. Martial strength is power, knowledge is power, and wealth is power. But there is another kind of power: choosing what sort of person to become."

He turned and continued toward the smithy.

The streetlamps were lit now, their orange halos spreading across the damp flagstones.

Light from the forge shone through the gap in the smithy's door, and Old Jack's shadow shifted across the window.

Loa quickened his pace.

Suddenly, he really wanted dinner, a steaming bowl of rye porridge, and then some sleep.

Tomorrow, there would still be plenty to do.