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Instead, I found a natural cave made of branches—archways that were unnatural, illuminated by small bugs that crawled over branches like ants, glowing orange and gold with phosphorescence as they carried on with their lives.

The cave was only large enough for Brindle to walk with a hunch at first, but it soon opened up like an igloo, exposing a dreamscape of glowing green vines that hung like stalactites and fairy-like insects the size of common rocks that flew around in beautiful patterns, making a dreamy ambient section that was warm as a greenhouse and felt warm with sunlight despite being dark.

And the plants…

There were so many plants. It was a hypnotic garden of flowers and herbs and ground cover that twisted like cake embellishments.

What is this place? I asked in a daze.

"It’s an alchemic garden."

I tried to identify a beautiful blue and pink plant that wrapped together like a helix, but the guide screen didn’t pop up.

Why can’t I identify these plants?

I have omitted many wonders from my books, and the Oracle cannot read my thoughts or follow my movements. Thus, there will be a time when my books will fail you. Those times may spell tragedy.

I shivered as I kept walking through his never-ending garden. I had grown so accustomed to the plants that I would’ve walked blindly into a trap plant. I looked back to see if Kline and Sina were staying on the path. They were. I moved on.

Why write books at all? I asked. Aren’t you a guardian?

My books sate people’s curiosity. There are many miraculous resources here—anyone who journeys into the Forest of Souls can see that. And as you move deeper into the forest, those plants become more profound. It’s that phenomenon that leads to wild imaginations of limitless wealth and power, and the imagination is more powerful than drive or ambition. It causes many to sacrifice their lives to feed their curiosities and pursue the forest. Thus, I provided much of the truth. It ruins that romanticism and proves that while there are envious resources, they aren’t worth certain death to obtain.

I see… I really appreciated his thorough response. It convinced me that his answer was definitive, and there was nothing missing, and that was the exact concept that he conveyed. I believed it was over—but I knew something else was there—things that I was missing. Things he wouldn’t trust to tell me. Thanks for letting me know.

We walked on.

About halfway through the garden, I left Kline and Sina on the path to move to a flower glowing like moonlight. It seemed innocuous, just one of many in a small patch, but it felt distinctive and stood out.

It’s beautiful…

It is. He pulled out a preservation chamber and dropped to his haunches. "Create a domain of pure oxygen, clip, purify, and seal."

I gulped. I’ve never made one with pure oxygen.

Then practice.

I did, and to my surprise, it was quite easy. Unlike selectively removing oxygen from a domain, I just had to grab it and throw everything else out in bulk. Then, I cautiously purified a preservation chamber, clipped the flower, put it inside quickly, and sealed it twice.

Good work.

Thanks, I said earnestly. I looked at the plant and around. Can I ask you something?

Yes.

Why is there no sun in here… these don’t look saprobic or like they contain hyaline…

They are neither. These plants are nearan.

As in neara… soul mana?

"Correct."

So they’re soul harvesters?

Brindle stood and looked into my eyes with eyes that were green and ambient. No. Harvesters eat neara. Purifiers eat aura. Reapers are parasites that take control. Nearan plants absorb neara and balance it with their own properties. They’re collectors. There are other types, but we needn’t concern ourselves with such details when this is what we need. Let’s continue.

I followed Brindle to other plants, clipped what I needed and more, as I would make mistakes, and then followed him out of the garden as fast as we came.

It made my heart ache to leave before studying for years, but it wouldn’t be the last time. While I didn’t mark it, I captured its location on my map in my mind, prepared to tell LIthco not to record my information when I went there next—

—a privilege I had as a diamond information suppression request holder.

We traveled on.

The next location was in a normal part of the forest surrounded by beasts the size of rhinos. I fought one while the Kline took care of the other two. Sina watched by request and enjoyed the meat I sliced off for her, saving some for later. Then we pressed through the thicket to get the rest of the ingredients.

The forest was cooling as we returned, but the fighting intensified. Kline and Sina took the lead on the way back, as I had a lot of precious ingredients, and we soon butchered meat from many different types of beasts. Yet we made it back to camp an hour from sunset.

Aiden was waiting for me, but I put up my hand and pointed to the forest. "Set up camp, would ya? I need time to focus on this recipe, so just do your own thing." He nodded and complied, giving me space with Brindle at the station. His patience was carved in stone.

I gave Kline his third evolution core and returned Brindle, and only after a cool breeze rustled the tree leaves and left tiny waves in my pond that I realized that he had been with me all day.

It wasn’t a lecture—

—it was like he was living with me.

Uh… do you still have time to teach me?

Brindle nodded. Time is running short for the guardians.

I winced. Do you think we can save him?

I’m unsure about Halten, but you can save Emael.

Emael? Is that the River Guardian?

Yes.

I logged the name Emael into my mind and then nodded. Then it’s worth it. Lead the way.

Then sit.

I did.

Brindle rolled his wrist, and a milky white and blue core appeared in his fingers. This is a soul core. It is similar to a regular core, but it contains aura and many types of neara. To use it, you must remove the aura like you do with soul meat, then selectively extract the type of neara you want. In this case, the remnants of other creatures are attacking and damaging the guardians’ souls. To fix that, we must strengthen their remnants while removing the invading forces. Such a maneuver is far beyond your capabilities, but…

I held my breath as he lifted the flower.

This is the Teelia flower. It goes by many names, but the fairies call it the Flower of Memories. It absorbs ungrounded remnant neara. With it, you will be able to cleanse the remnants within the guardians.

My heart fluttered.

But… if you don’t strengthen their cores, it will erase their memories and turn them into puppets.

Any hope I developed crashed together.

Now sit. You must learn how to remove harmful neara from cores without blending them. That will build your core, but it will not fix damage. Let’s begin by separating neara. Hold a core.

I did.

Then, he began chanting. I followed, and soon, I was in a trance, unraveling and winding the aura in the core. Then the neara came out, and a new chant filled my mind, immersive as cicadas and soon I was lost in the spell. Then, he added another, like a Mozart opera where multiple men and women were "speaking" at once, singing their songs in harmonious melodies, and the neara started to separate.

I thought my head would crack in half once I focused on it. My stomach squeezed in, and my mind looped. The world became chilly and foreign, and my body tingled as the neara touched my skin. I activated my core and started cleansing.

Only cleanse within… not outside.

I tried—adding a fourth process to the spell. It pulled me in for what felt like days, and soon, I could separate the neara into twelve types.

Now remove the remnant, he said.

I could see it with my mind’s eye, like the red wire in a Hollywood bomb that needed to be clipped.

Chant with me.

He chanted and I followed, and soon my whole body was shaking violently as the fifth process overloaded my mind. It threatened to consume me, but I pressed forward, and an invisible force grabbed that one sliver of neara and pulled. I cried out, but I continued, forcing it out. It gave way with sudden ferocity, and I collapsed on the ground, letting the neara drift away aimlessly.

There’s no way, I thought. I succeeded—but at what cost? I managed to remove a sliver in a large core with seemingly limitless neara within it.

I opened my eyes, and my blood ran cold. The symphony bugs were gone, and Kline was lying next to my side with Sina on my left, blocking the wind. It was already deep into night, and I had only just begun.

I looked to the side and saw Brindle standing there, holding a core that reflected the moonlight, becoming one with one and alluring me so.

Well done. Now come.

The matter-of-factness in the way he talked—the banal confidence that drivers have when they enter cars—numbed my anxieties and made me get up.

Brindle filled a jar with alcohol and stood before it. I did the same. He then desiccated a single Teelia flower petal in a pure oxygen environment, grinding them in a pestle and adding them to the jar as I followed behind. He did the same thing for multiple other ingredients, performing Mana Extraction, a blue herb that turned the alcohol a pale blue. Lastly, he took the smallest soul core out of my container and put it into the concoction.

The Teelia captures and balances impurities, so you need only perform the task that you have already done. Do that, and the ingredients will take care of the rest.

I laced my fingers together and shut my eyes. I barely pulled out any before… How am I supposed to do a full core?

A person’s will has power beyond your comprehension. Now that you know you can succeed, victory is within your grasp.

Brindle took his jar and sat down, legs crossed with the jar between his legs, cupping the glass on all sides and purifying it. Then, he closed his eyes.

I followed suit.

Let’s chant together once more.

He began chanting, and I entered a trance, bringing that harmonious melody of chants together. It was calming at first, but once I entered the second part of the chant, my mind and heart strained even more intensely than before, and I gripped the jar for dear life.

Sear.

Sizzle.

Scorch.

Every word that described the feeling of hot entered my mind, but it didn’t explain the feeling of boiling or popping of skin or chest or bone. My core felt like it was on fire, and I could feel my chest webbing.

It was clear that the other ingredients were unlocking the full power of the core.

Do not break concentration, Brindle said. For if you do, you will die.

I didn’t think. I couldn’t. I just rode that wave of energy, memories threatening to flash before my eyes but then being shredded by my core. It was moving like a drill.

The atmosphere around me cooled, and foreign elements stuck to me like glue, touching my skin and then hardening, cracking, and peeling off when it couldn’t enter, giving way for more.

It was intense and raw, but I rode the wave—

—then cranked up the temperature.

Halten and Emael needed a lot of cleansing, but I was struggling with a tiny stone. I had to work harder.

I churned my core and soul remnant poison flew into me from all sides, bombarding me as the aura around the stone exited the glass, pierced my chest, and wrapped around my core. It became tighter and tighter, sharper and more powerful, helping me speed up as if it were going downhill.

My mind started looping and straining and breaking, and I thought that I was going to go mad. But right then, in the maelstrom of neara and aura wrapping around me like a glove, Yakana’s voice whispered in my ear. You can succeed on your own—but allow me to help.

I gave my consent, and his body melded into mine. Then, as if I were doing it wrong all along, Yakana helped me circulate and thread in a nuanced pattern that broke Brindle’s mold. It didn’t seem different, it just seemed unrestrained and smooth. Soon, I was doing it naturally, and just as I was getting used to it, the core dried out, and the energy ended.

I slowly opened my eyes, and Brindle looked down at me with his glassy green eyes.

Again.

I ground petals and ingredients into a new jar, a larger jar with a wider soul core, and then returned. Yakana gripped my soul as soon as I brought the remnants together as if he were a fish swimming in souls and helped me thread that core.

Again, Brindle said.

I added an even larger core to the same jar. And then another. And another. And soon, I found myself with a second jar and four cores within in. It was only once I tried to get a new core for the second jar and nearly collapsed that I stopped and listened to my surroundings.

The symphony bugs were outside, and the sun was shining, and I could hear Aiden and the lurvine milling about. It wasn’t enough, at least not as I imagined, but it was all I could do.

I sat up slowly and looked at the jars. My tiny first jar was a pale blue but glowed. The second was a radiant blue that looked radioactive, and the third was also deep blue but less radiant, a sign of my wearing mind and soul.

I had created them.

If we made it, Halten and Emael could survive.