Rules of Biomancy: A LitRPG Healer Fantasy

It had been a month since Aleksi's death. In that month, they had ridden south to Melrond, found a merchant ship in the city's docks, and they had then sailed even further south towards Mane, the land of the half-folk.

It was the longest journey Elijah had been on, and it was the first one that required him to set foot on a ship. He'd been on small boats before, sailing across lakes and rivers, but never had he been at sea. Never had he truly felt the power of the waves, the taste of salt on his lips, and the great winds and storms which the vast waters fostered.

On some nights, the fact that the ship had stayed in one piece had been a surprise, with the creaking of the wood and the cracks of thunder. Elijah had stayed calm through it, knowing nothing else would help, and he did trust that the kobold merchants knew their craft well. No matter how crazed they seemed to be, their expertise of travelling across the grand ocean had gone unchallenged for centuries.

Elijah was happy to let that fact stay true. If not for the requirement of travelling by boat to reach foreign lands, he would never torture himself with the experience.

'I can feel it again,' Dawn commented, as she carefully balanced herself on the railing. 'Life.'

He could as well. That pulse of energy, a land filled with plants recognizing his presence in the distance. As they reached more shallow waters, the life in the ocean had also fallen into range of Elijah's abilities, but they didn't feel the same. He personally blamed the salt and the eternal submersion, although it was more likely due to the difference in their internal structures. They didn't feel as familiar to him as the green life inside the forests and the plains.

Though… experiencing something new was the entire point of this journey.

"Docking!" one of the kobolds shouted from the crow's nest. The crackly voice made Elijah assume it was one of the captains, Visk or Kix. Who was who was impossible for Elijah to spot. He could tell them apart from the others, as their red fur was a stark contrast to the dark brown coloration of their crew, but that was the only difference his eyes could see. "Get ready to pay! Pay before you leave! Give us gold!"

"Gold!"

"Give!"

"Pay!"

"Hands off the pouch!"

In between the kobold's chanting, Elijah heard Jack's shout, as the young man slapped away the clawed hand trying to grab at his belt. Before they had left, Elijah hadn't taken Lura's warnings about the kobold's love for gold too seriously, but the past weeks had shown him how wrong he had been.

Every morning and night, they would chant about payment, the captains trying to weasel in a higher price than what had been agreed on. Walking around, looking at the water, and even enjoying the sun suddenly came with a price tag attached, one that Elijah had made clear he had no intention of paying. The kobolds would accept as much, for a short time at least, as the mere threat of annulling the actual agreement terrified them.

"Pay!" the kobold shouted again as it retreated, eyes still fixated on Jack's pouch. "No leave before gold!"

Back to work, I suppose.

"He's not the one who'll be paying for the trip," Elijah said as he slowly walked over to the small group. His staff made a dull thump every time it hit the wooden floor of the ship, bringing the focus to his approach. "The agreement was made with me, and I carry the necessary gold which was agreed upon."

Jack probably carried twice the currency that Elijah possessed, but that hardly mattered.

"Then you pay!" the red-furred kobold immediately countered, the crew beginning their chanting once again as the ship slowed down. The short workers on the dock were getting into earshot. "Gold! Hand over!"

Elijah barely managed to pull the small leather pouch he'd prepared out of his pockets before it was snatched away by the clawed hands and ripped open. In typical kobold fashion, each coin got rapidly inspected for any form of flaw before they were hidden away somewhere inside the creature's fur.

"Got gold!" the red-furred kobold shouted, and the crew replied with jubilation. "To the dock!"

With the payment handed over, their small group became more of an afterthought, as the merchants focused on future profits. Precise manoeuvring followed as the ship approached the small dock. It took up the single space made to fit a vessel, though that hardly seemed a problem. Other than the twenty or so shorter people waiting below, the dock itself seemed surprisingly… calm.

Compared to the hustle and bustle of Melrond's dock, which had barely contained the constant shouting, cursing, and fighting of sailors, the half-folk barely seemed inconvenienced by their arrival. Some were carrying ropes and helping guide the cranes as boxes and barrels were taken off the ship and onto railcars to transport the goods to the warehouses not far inland, but most of the short people were standing around chatting with those coming off the vessel.

"Human travellers? How queer," one of the half-folk, an older man with a grey beard that came close to rivaling the dwarven variants in size, said. However, the welcoming grin and quick approach to shake Elijah's hand set the man apart from the other vertically challenged race. "Welcome to Mane, the land of the half-folk and the greatest fruits that can be found in this lovely world."

So much life.

"Thank you," Elijah said in reflex, his eyes glazing over as Mana automatically travelled through his body and into the physical world.

With his feet on the ground, the connection to the living organisms that inhabited the land strengthened like never before. His time on the waters had caused him to nearly forget the sensation, the vortex of visuals, and the endless flood of whispering minds noticing his presence.

"Sorry about him," Grace said to his right, bringing Elijah out of the haze. "He didn't handle the waves too well."

"Ah, no worries! I don't appreciate the battle for balance on the ships either," the dock worker assured them. "Grass beneath your feet is much safer as well, with the ground being solid and all."

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"Well said," Grace agreed, the young woman using her natural smile, which put most folk at ease.

While the Wind Mage continued to chat with the short man, Elijah honed his senses to locate where the others had gone. Contrary to the effort required to communicate with the cut wood on the ship, he barely needed to send out a single thought before the world answered his questions. Twenty meters ahead, amidst the cargo being hauled off the ship, the three others in the group were walking along. His ears could even pick up Mila's voice, questioning the actions of the dock workers.

"If you're hoping to not sleep on the ground tonight, I suggest you follow the road directly south," the half-folk man mentioned, bringing Elijah's attention back to the conversation at hand. "There's a village called Thistlebrook that way, where my sister's husband's nephew runs an inn called The Crooked Kettle. It's the only place you'll find human-sized beds worthy of being slept in."

"Thank you for the recommendation," Grace thanked the man. "And directly south… That would be in the direction of the Dungeon as well, I believe?"

"Indeed it is! Perfect place for resting in-between dives, that village. Nothing to stress about there," the worker continued. "Say that Samson sent you, and they'll give you a discount at the inn."

If Elijah had heard such words from anybody else, he'd have assumed it to be a trick. A scam of some sort, meant to get as much coin out of their pockets as possible. And yet… the way the old half-folk man handled himself, and the way that every other worker present kept the smiles on their faces while chatting with each other, gave Elijah the feeling that the words were earnest.

A lack of desire to lie.

"You really need to work on your social skills," Grace commented when they left the small dock behind and ventured onto the well-trodden road. "We might've gotten used to your blank stares, but other people are going to get weirded out when you stare out into nothing for five minutes."

"It wasn't five minutes," Elijah countered, the young woman's eyes easily giving her opinion on his words. "And I was merely adjusting to my connection to the natural world growing stronger when we reached solid ground."

"With how many lectures you've given to me about multi-tasking, Elijah, I'm confident you can do the same," she fired back. Elijah didn't offer any additional rebuttals, as he knew he would not win. "Listen. When Sasha surpasses your social prowess, you must admit that something needs to be changed."

… She was right.

"I will try," Elijah gave in. His words seemed to appease Grace, as she moved over to Sasha to help answer Mila's questions about the forest, leaving him to his own searching. 'Dawn, do you detect anything unusual?'

'Nothing,' the duck responded from atop his shoulder. 'Trees talk a lot, though. Very noisy.'

'They're white oaks. Being responsive is in their nature.'

Despite Dawn's complaints, Elijah did find some comfort in spreading out his senses further, documenting the natural life that surrounded the road. Serenova had been mainly wide plains with the occasional old forest. Mane was the exact opposite, with the mostly untouched nature allowing for century-old growth as far as his magical senses could reach. Systems of roots that went dozens of meters down, flowers from species extinct on most continents, and variations of critters that Elijah had never even heard of. Squirrels that glided, deer with additional eyes, and mice that teleported from shadow to shadow to keep themselves hidden from the impossibly fast hawks.

Every scratch in the bark, every blade of grass pressed down, and every little hole in the ground told a story. In that single frame of time, Elijah knew that decades could be spent discovering everything there was to see, figuring out every mechanism of the ecosystem, every part of the balance that granted this section of the forest so much life.

He felt calm. Calmer than he'd been in weeks, with the tension in his back and shoulders loosening just a little more. With no threats from the forest, and no fellow travellers on the road, the hours passed in peace, and they arrived at the half-folk village just as the sun began to near the horizon.

Thistlebrook, as promised, looked to be a quiet place. With plenty of wild grass between the small houses that were dug into the ground, and the only protection from the forest line being a small fence, it was a place that had few outside dangers. Even as the light of the sun began to fade, the inhabitants still sat outside on fur-covered benches, smoking pipes, eating fruit, and drinking what Elijah assumed to be stronger wines.

Home-brewed and grown.

Of the close to a hundred homes in the village, only one possessed a second floor above the ground. Likewise, it was the only one that had a front door big enough for Elijah to walk inside without bending down.

The Crooked Kettle.

Elijah couldn't see anything crooked about it.

"Cozy place," Sasha commented, as the young woman followed along while carrying Mila. Elijah agreed wholeheartedly. While he did worry about hitting his head on the odd ceiling beam, the entryway for the inn did seem rather nice. A deep red and golden carpet, the smell of warm food in the air, and the steady flickering glow from a fireplace.

Behind the counter, the creak of an old door caught Elijah's attention, and he locked eyes with the short woman who entered the room. She jumped, the neatly packaged clothes nearly falling from her clutches.

"Oh! Ted, you've got new customers!" she shouted, jostling ensuing from the other room along with quick steps. Within seconds, another half-folk stepped out of the old door, this one a young man with a bit of ash sticking onto his white shirt.

"Welcome!" Ted said, discreetly wiping away the ash as he hurried over to a stepping stool behind the counter to cut the difference in heights in half. "Apologies for the wait. We weren't expecting more guests at this time of day. Or this time of year, for that matter."

"We ventured here from the dock on foot, so it took longer than expected to arrive," Elijah explained, getting an understanding nod in return. "We were recommended this inn by Samson. We were told you were one of the few inns that possessed beds large enough for humans."

"And my old friend did not lie, I assure you!" the innkeeper instantly agreed, putting on some reading glasses as he skimmed through a booklet. "There are five of you, but I'm assuming the little one likes to share, so… yes! I have a four-bedroom available for a reasonable price. How long do you plan to stay?"

"A week, with the potential to extend it a week more."

"Not a problem at all."

Elijah doubted that the price was the discounted one, but he did not feel like haggling. Food and amenities were included, the selection of rare wines to sample looked interesting, and the others seemed ready to pay anything if it meant sleeping on an actually soft bed.

"If any of you are the gambling type, we do also offer a small card room down the hall," Ted added, as he handed the room keys over to Elijah. "It's very popular with the locals, though they arrive a little later in the evening."

'Anomaly.'

As the innkeeper continued to talk, both Dawn and Elijah felt the foreign presence leaving the aforementioned card room. A woman, obviously another visitor of the village, from how she looked to be a full head higher than Elijah.

Black cloth, pale skin, and eyes that glowed with an unnatural variant of blue that bordered on being purple. A brief inspection would've made her look to be a human, but the more he studied her complexion, the more she looked off. Nobody else seemed to make a note of the woman as she passed them by and ventured outside, which only increased his curiosity.

And the way the natural world seemed to respect her presence… He had to know more.

"Elijah?" Grace said, poking him on his shoulder. "Ready to see the room?"

"Sure," he replied, knowing he had no intention of resting.