NOVEL NEXT 102. Strafhollow VIII
The next morning, Ori found himself frowning over a disintegrating block of yellowish foam. He poked the mess, watching it crumble apart, and sighed. So much for a memory foam mattress. Despite the wondrous ability of Echo Forging to recreate things from imagination and memory, there was still a finesse involved that required an understanding of material science, chemistry or alchemy, something Ori simply didn't have. What he'd produced was barely an upgrade from the cheap, decade-old polyurethane blocks he remembered from some of the foster homes he'd cycled through: crumbly, uneven, and about as comfortable as sitting on a mound of sand at high tide.
His next attempt, a fibrous mattress filling inspired by the wild plants around the lake, fared even worse. The fibres clung to his hands and arms, burning with an itching irritation that set in almost immediately. Ori eyed the offending bundle and promptly transmuted every single molecule of the deadly substance, as even his nascent-level constitution was not immune to the highly carcinogenic fibres he had just conjured. Thank goodness for healing magic, Ori thought, grimacing as the last of the rash faded under Channel Restoration.
Giving up on beds for the time being, Ori threw himself into redesigning parts of the house. Unlike the slow trial and error of the mattress, adding a central stone chimney and a wide fireplace, then planning a second, shed-like building beside the main house, went by quickly thanks to Reach of the Progenitor's ability to levitate massive blocks of bedrock, which Ori could transmute directly into virtually any style of stone he wanted. For the downstairs walls, it felt good to move stone and timber again, the rhythm of construction clearing away his frustrations.
By mid-morning, Ori had turned his attention to his personal workshop. He sketched layouts in chalk and charcoal, settling on a large, flat worktable as the centrepiece. Placeholder ventilation systems lined the walls, not yet functional but promising a future free of fumes and a positive air-pressure, cleanroom-like environment.
Now in his element, Ori began crafting the house's first set of enchantments. Two enchanted water tanks, forged from steel taken from weapons looted in Ghigrerchiax, became his next project. The weapons, with their low-tier enchantments long since studied and understood, were now most valuable as raw crafting material. Ori shaped them into sturdy, insulated tanks, one for ice-cold water, one for hot baths, before inscribing each with minor enchantments to maintain temperature. He placed the tanks in the bathroom, then worked to create a ceramic plumbing system using leftover bedrock that ran pipes to and from a sink, then to a large, outdoor waste tank. Ori eventually planned to periodically transmute the contents of, filtering the waste water and trace compounds into separate vats.
Enchanted fireplaces and a new stove followed, each designed to be safe and efficient, with steady flames that would not go out even in the fiercest winter winds. Permanent light enchantments came next, banishing the gloom from every corner of the cabin. Satisfied, Ori turned to security, inscribing basic surveillance and alert wards on hidden plates scattered around the home, while reinforcing the physical strength and resistance of the building. He made mental notes to upgrade them further once he'd gathered new enchantments and rarer materials.
He had just stepped back to admire his handiwork when one of the recent wards rang with a silent alarm.
Ori glanced up from his latest project to see a bewildered Bis'quin, the lamia headman of Straffhollow, slithering through the woodland. The lamia's green, scaled body, broad shoulders, and confident smile despite his evident surprise were unmistakable.
"I see you've been busy. A house this large… Some of us felt the workings of your magic. To see the results of such efforts… No wonder. No wonder."
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little proud. This is the first house I've built," Ori said, stepping out to join the headman in the clearing.
"First house…" Bis'quin muttered to himself. "I see."
"What can I do for you? I was planning to head into the village this afternoon for the usual healing, but I can tend to the last of your wounds now, if you'd like?"
"Honestly, I feel better than I have in years. Besides, scars make the man, don't you know?" the jovial headman replied. "No, I'm here on behalf of some townsfolk—a couple, to be exact. They've been having trouble conceiving, and I've come first to ask if you might be able to help, and to negotiate on their behalf."
Internally, Ori was keen but wasn't sure if he could help. Healing was one thing, but fertility issues? He suspected it would be as much about learning as problem-solving—perhaps a chance to deepen his understanding of life affinity.
"I'm willing to take a look," Ori said, "I'll do what I can to figure out what's wrong, but I can't promise anything without an examination."
Bis'quin's tongue flicked thoughtfully. "What might such an examination cost? You've never really taken payment, at least not like the old healers used to."
Ori shook his head. "I don't have much use for local currency. I'm not looking to take anyone's savings, but what I could use is a sense of how the money here works, a collection of the most common denominations, if that makes sense? Also, if they have anything they'd be willing to trade, I could use more fabrics or furniture for the house, for example, if they're skilled crafters, maybe something they've made."
Bis'quin's eyes brightened a little, pleased at the offer. "As it happens, the man, Edran, is a fletcher by trade, and a decent one at that. His wife, Mirrel, works with dyeing and weaving. She's made some of the finest blankets and wall hangings in Straffhollow."
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Ori nodded. "Either of those would be useful, honestly. Tess is likely a customer already and could always use a few more arrows. And blankets are never wasted in a house this size."
Bis'quin chuckled. "Tess is indeed a frequent customer, and Mirrel's dyes are a point of pride for the village and a frequent pick by the trade caravans too."
"So we'll call it a trade then," Ori said. "I'll examine both of them and do what I can. No guarantees, but I'll try my best. In return, I'd be grateful for a few things for the house, whatever they think is fair."
Bis'quin gave a deep nod. "That sounds more than fair. I'll send them your way after midday, if that suits."
"It does. And thank you for bringing this to me."
Bis'quin's sharp nod belied the gratitude in his eyes. "Not a problem, Ori. Let's just hope the gods and your talents favour them this time."
"We've just…" Mirrel trailed off awkwardly. Edran, her husband, stepped in with the sort of overly enthusiastic grin of someone certain they were sharing in a private joke.
"We made an… attempt before coming here," Edran said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thought it might, you know, help with your… examinations." Edran was a hazel-haired, buck-toothed Sciurquin, a race that was part of the fae, much like Ketta from the village of Ike. His wife was also fae, a Mustelpixin with exotic features, her humanoid weasel appearance marked by white fur and a black stripe across her eyes.
Seraphine's laughter broke across the bond. "Did he just waggle his eyebrows at you? Subtle this man is not. Honestly, Ori, you attract the strangest patients."
"I mean, what the hell, is he really propositioning me? With him? His wife?" Ori asked with silent alarm.
"Why not both? They are fae. Such social mores are less scandalous than you'd think in the Faewylds. Given your company and hearing of your fae-touched nature, they likely made some… deductions."
"Is this going to be a thing? Please say this isn't going to be a thing." Ori groaned internally as he fought to keep a straight face, channelling the stoic demeanour of an enigmatic archmage, if not a seasoned healer, while quietly questioning his life choices.
"I'm here to help," Ori managed, his tone as clinical as he could make it. "If you'll both allow me, I'd like to perform a magical examination. There's no risk, just a little tickle of magic, and my eyes might glow, but it's all so I can get a sense of what's going on."
Edran nodded quickly, almost too quickly. "Whatever it takes, mate. Anything you need."
Ori cringed while Seraphine cackled privately. "Careful, Ori—if he offers to show you his shaft, he might not mean his arrows."
Pursing his lips to avoid an involuntary smirk, Ori directed his wand and focused, calling upon Vision of the Progenitor to see deep beneath the skin. His perception sharpened as he pushed on the full might of his four-fold sight, the inner workings of life and potential zooming into view. He focused gently on Mirrel's lower abdomen, seeing the intricate web of life energy entwined within.
As Ori extended his mana with a light trickle of Cure Wounds to better see the detail of Mirrel's womb, Seraphine hummed in his thoughts. "Steady, you're looking for irregularities—blockages or scars, places where the flow of life energy has stuttered."
"This feels… oddly intimate," Ori said over the bond, his dark skin hiding his blush as he detected subtle inconsistencies in the threads of life within Mirrel's womb.
"Tell me what you see," Seraphine said, reminding him that, for all her perception as a disembodied spirit, she could not actually see or feel what he did.
Ori described how the ovary and fallopian tubes glowed under his mana, but something was off. Rather than the seamless flow of lifeforce he expected, several vessels seemed thinner or twisted.
Seraphine's voice was low and serious. "There's your problem—likely scar tissue or magical residue from a poorly healed wound. Some of these scars," Seraphine mused, "look like they tried to heal on their own but didn't quite manage. That's why conception hasn't happened. The eggs are healthy, but the path is blocked, and the lining is just a bit too patchy to anchor new life. Here, use this series of spell engrams to enhance Cure Wounds. It's part of a more advanced spell called Renewal, which can alter and revitalise living tissue at a higher mana and lifeforce cost."
Ori saw the engrams and quickly memorised the forms, using them to alter Cure Wounds as he repaired the blocked tube that had thrown her reproductive system out of balance.
"Your light, I feel it—it feels warm." Mirrel curled in upon herself as Ori began to explain.
"You have an old injury that I'm fixing. It sent your womb out of balance, making it hard to conceive. Not only will I fix this…" Ori said under his breath, his mind focused on the detailed magic as his attention fell further along. Ori's vision narrowed to the strange world within Mirrel. In that space, a single glowing egg waited, its surface haloed with lifeforce and potential. All around, flickers of silvery life circled and pressed, drawn by the pulse of life.
Most drifted away, but a few spun closer, brimming with intent yet somehow failing to connect. It felt as though everything hovered, waiting for a final push.
Instinctively, Ori provided that final nudge, not with Cure Wounds or light affinity, but with a mana on the verge of transformation.
Seraphine's voice cut through. "You are nearly there, Ori. Sometimes all that is needed is a little encouragement."
Ori guided a thread of mana forward, empowering those tiny wiggling sparks, his intent transforming the mana into a fuel for growth and possibility. As the aura between them shimmered and flared, something clicked within him, and a new awareness settled into his pool of affinities.
"...I've also helped along your current cycle. Hopefully, we should know in a few weeks."
"Well done," Seraphine said, a smile in her words. "You've worked miracles and reached Threshold in your Life Affinity. How does it feel?"
"It feels… It's like a miracle," Ori replied over the bond.
"Indeed, Ori, that's because it is. Life is a miracle, and here, your instincts served you well." Seraphine chuckled again. "Now let us see if you can extract yourself before they declare a fertility festival in your honour—and insist you lead the first dance."
Ori coughed, barely holding in laughter. "All done," he announced, stepping back. "I think you'll both find things… Ah, working a little more smoothly from now on."