Theodore was absolutely fascinated by his own eyelids.

Not that he could see them, of course. But the insides of them were putting on quite the light show. When he tried to concentrate on them, he saw tiny floating squiggles that swirled around. Was that normal? Did everyone have their own private kaleidoscope show behind their eyelids? Or was it due to mana paired with his sensory skills?

He should really ask someone about that sometime.

No, wait. Focus.

On his back, he sensed warmth—presumably sunshine coming in through the open window. He forced himself not to open his eyes and look. He felt it warming his back, but he could not see it.

Focus, you absolute walnut.

However, it was becoming difficult to concentrate these days. Like attempting to catch a greased pig at a fair in the country. He had never done that, in fact. No lord ever did. But in a clumsy, undignified manner, it did sound like fun.

He was currently meditating, sitting cross-legged on the chilly stone floor, concentrating, breathing steadily, eyes closed, and attempting to gather as much mana as he could in order to increase his mana pool. Or trying to be steady, anyway. Not doing a great job of it, truth be told.

In any case, he had learned that bringing mana within oneself occasionally led to a level up, and since he felt that he was close for this one, he had been attempting to fill himself with as much mana as he could.

He acknowledged the wandering thoughts and let out a deep exhale. Like chasing a stubborn goat out of a garden, he gently pushed the thoughts aside and redirected his attention to his breathing, the here and now, and the mana that was throbbing in the air and gathering near him.

Going into him.

Then to his mana pool.

Refocusing on his breathing, he continued the process.

Not thinking about cheese.

Not wondering if someone could make cheese-flavored mana.

A familiar warmth bloomed in his chest.

[Meditation] has leveled up! – Lvl 15 > Lvl 16!

Nice. His lips pulled into a smile When he realized he had lost his focus once more, he frowned.

***

With the tender pride of a parent whose child had just learnt to walk, Theodore looked down on his brick children. Like small, rectangular dragons releasing their first breaths, steam rose from their clay bodies. Lovely. Excellent. He would give each one a unique name if he could.

He should probably avoid becoming attached. These bricks had foundations to support and places to be. Truly, a brickmaker's life was one of heartbreak.

Theodore let out a loud sigh and reached for his creations. It was time for these babies to calm down. The air whirled around the stacks and absorbed the heat.

Not too cold. Not too dry.

Under his nurturing guidance, the bricks cooled very quickly. What should have taken hours was done in minutes, which left Theodore with the uncomfortable realization that he might need to find a hobby that wasn't brick-related.

He'd been very bored lately.

"Careful now," he called as workers approached his precious creations. "They're still a bit hot."

A man whose arms looked like they had arms of their own stepped forward with a grin that suggested he ate bricks for breakfast.

"No worries, m'lord. Heat's nothing to us [Stonemasons]."

"Good to hear. What's your name?"

"Burk, m'lord," the human boulder replied. "Me and me boys here are ready to get these bricks where they need to go."

Jack appeared beside him, eyebrows raised high enough to suggest they might be attempting escape from his forehead.

Theodore smiled. "Welcome. Just in time."

"Where are they taking all these?" Jack asked.

Theodore gestured toward a cleared space close by, where, like an eager canvas, rich, red clay awaited.

"Just over there. We're building a proper kiln for future brickmaking. No offense to my magical abilities, but—" he lowered his voice dramatically, "—I'm getting bored of brickmaking. I'm thinking of using a mana crystal for the kiln. A few specific runes, the automation system I made, and—hopefully—some help with your spellcraft, and we'll have a good kiln at our hands."

"Ah, so that's why you summoned me."

"Correct. Also, I needed someone to appreciate my brick puns, which I've been kiln-ing it with lately."

"..."

It was clear from Jack's expression that he was already feeling regretful about accepting Theodore's summons.

"Come on!" Theodore raised his hands defensively. "It wasn't that bad!"

"Well," Jack said dryly. "I'd be delighted to help, my lord. Of course."

There was a lot of bustle on the construction site. With the satisfaction of a guy who had effectively assigned all the actual physical work to others, Theodore observed with a smile. There was no doubt in Theodore's mind that giving Jack this project was the best idea he'd had all day. Possibly all week. And he'd had at least three brilliant ideas already this morning, including a cheese-powered mana distillery that he'd promptly forgotten to write down.

"Listen, Jack. I need you to take charge of this kiln project. Full creative control. Technical supervision. The whole thing."

"My lord, I'm not entirely sure I—"

"You're perfect for this. You've got the spellcraft knowledge, the attention to detail, and most importantly, you have a good head on your shoulder. Leto has all the details and I have everything written down, so you don't have anything to worry about regarding that. Obviously, you also have nothing to worry about getting paid. I don't expect free work.."

Jack stared at him.

"The thing is," Theodore continued, "I need to head to Westford. Immediately. Can't put it off. Absolutely crucial timing."

"Westford?"

"Yeah, Ashton agreed to a meeting, and so far as I know the guy, I'm gonna be busy clearing up the mines. Fervidite. The mines there are practically bursting with it. And we need it, Jack. Need it desperately."

"For the kiln?"

"For everything!" Theodore's hands flew up, startling a nearby worker who nearly dropped a brick. "Sorry about that," he called over, then returned to Jack. "Fervidite is essential. It's the best heating element we could possibly use. Far more efficient than standard fire runes. Better heat distribution. Longer lasting. More controllable."

Jack's brow furrowed, the man actually looking interested despite himself. "And this affects the kiln how exactly?"

"Picture this. A fervidite core—which I'd have to build—nestled in a bed of amplification runes. Surrounded by your spellwork. Connected to my automation system. The bricks would be perfectly fired. Every time. Consistent temperature, controlled cooling. We could quintuple production with half the effort."

It wasn't the objective, but he was getting enthusiastic about the kiln again. Instead of getting drawn back into brickmaking, he needed to get out.

"I've mapped out the basic design," Theodore continued. "Leto's got all the details. I've everything written down."

"And you need to leave right now?"

"Absolutely. Critical timing. I'm meeting Ashton there—you remember Ashton? Lord with the sharp eyes and sharper tongue? Knows more about mining than anyone has a right to know but is so weak he can't even protect his own mines from monsters? He's arranged everything, but I need to be there to secure our claim on the fervidite supply."

Jack sighed and gave up. "How long will you be gone?"

"A week? Maybe two?" Theodore shrugged. "However long it takes to charm, bribe, or confuse Ashton into giving us preferential access."

He stopped and gazed at the building site with a hint of melancholy. They would take good care of his brick kids. Most likely.

"I've left additional notes in my study," he added. "Very detailed. Mostly legible."

"Wonderful," Jack said.

Theodore beamed, completely missing—or expertly ignoring—Jack's sarcasm.

"I knew you'd understand! The workers already respect you, the materials are all here, and the plans are mostly coherent."

"My lord, I really think—"

"Oh! And one more thing," Theodore interrupted, already backing away. "If anything catches fire, that's completely normal. Expected, even. Unless it's purple fire. If it's purple, run."

Because purple fire was absolutely terrifying.

It went without saying that Theodore had experimented around with [Elemental Spells] before, because of course he had. What self-respecting [Mage] wouldn't? His favorite was fire. There was something erratic yet somehow controllable about the way it danced. In essence, fire was the ideal metaphor for magic itself: beautiful, dangerous and absolutely unforgiving of mistakes.

Not that he had been considering metaphors when he had almost killed himself three months prior.

He had been attempting to improve a common flame spell by changing its characteristics. Change its color, make it burn hotter, and make it last longer. He had assumed the changes would be easy enough. There was nothing that should have gone horribly wrong.

The purple had just happened to show up. At first, there was only a flicker, a weird violet tongue licking up from a typical red-orange fire. Interesting. Unexpected. Curiosity overcame the warning signs ringing in Theodore's mind as he'd leaned closer.

Stupid. So goddamn stupid.

Instead of burning like regular fire, the purple had erupted forth and disintegrated anything it touched. His arm was present one moment, then it simply... wasn't. No blackening, no charring. Simply disappeared vanishing into emptiness, with flawless, horrifying effectiveness. His brain was unable to understand what his eyes were telling it, so the agony hadn't even registered at first.

If losing an arm could be considered "lucky," he had struck it lucky. Almost instantly after capturing his limb, the purple flame extinguished itself, seemingly content with itself .

His [Healing Touch] should have fixed it. That's what healing magic was for, right? Patching up mistakes, erasing the consequences of carelessness. However, something—some residue, or whatever the heck you wanted to call it—had been left behind by the purple flames. The healing was unsuccessful. Or rather , it healed , albeit excruciatingly slowly, with the magic battling whatever was left behind by the purple fire.

It took an entire damn month to heal even though [Healing Touch] was used in combination with potions.

He still dreamed about it sometimes. Not the pain—though that featured occasionally—but the perfect, horrifying fire. The way it just... erased. Like his arm had never existed at all.

Therefore, Theodore wasn't exaggerating when he warned of purple fire. His exaggeration was not for show.

"I've complete faith in you!" Theodore called over his shoulder as he strode back toward the manor before Jack could raise any more objections. "Don't let my brick kids down!"

In the courtyard, Roland was waiting, appearing to be every inch the proper knight. Professional stoicism, mirror-shine armor, and a straight back like a ruler. The only hint of personality was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth that suggested he'd been waiting longer than he'd expected to.

Nearby were two saddled horses and a pack mule laden with supplies. Apparently, before Theodore had had a chance to make the journey himself, someone had told Roland about it.

"Roland!" Theodore called cheerfully like this was the plan all along. "Ready?"

"I've been ready for two hours, my lord. The horses are prepared. You will be sitting in a carriage, though. We should make good time if we leave now," Roland said.

"Excellent." Theodore nodded, suddenly all business. "We need to move quickly. The fervidite won't wait forever."

***

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