Published at 31st of March 2026 7:41 am

Chapter 142: Collapse of cream futures

This chapter is updated by JustRead.pl

Ellen and I meet before herbalism as per usual. I could have easily finished the assignment earlier in the week, but I left a few problems to do together to pass the time before class. A consideration that she has not mirrored, so I end up just quickly filling the answers in. We do, however, study for the exam thats supposed to come at the end of the semester, so the time isnt wholly wasted.

Class is the normal combination of interesting and dull. Calming, almost. I enjoy the subject, but even I admit I dont find it exciting like a few others seem to. More satisfying. Acquiring knowledge that I know I can use to further my later goals.

I ask Ellen to wait after class so I can talk to the teacher briefly about my efforts raising medical herbs with magic. She finds it interesting and mentions a few books by others who have experimented with similar spells. Though apparently most efforts in the past have focused on growing food rather than medicine.

The problem with growing food is that, as I have already started to notice, rapidly growing plants drains the vitality of the soil. Or rather, growing plants at all drains the vitality, and growing them faster drains it faster. Both because youre growing more plants, and because each plant drains the soil more than usual (especially with the fast version). Thus, the limits to industrial-scale magic plant production arent with how fast you can grow, but with the amount of land you have and how quickly it can replenish vitality.

Thus, while grower spells are used in imperial agriculture, their spread is limited. Often, it is only an emergency measure to finish growing one last crop quickly because the first frost of the year has been divined to arrive early. Though a few places do force out as many as a dozen harvests in a year, but theyre mostly done as an experiment and have been running into increasing problems.

She also points out that with recent conquests, the empires population hasnt outgrown the available farmland, and that even if the vitality problem was solved via fertilizers that are presently being experimented with, magic growth wouldnt reduce labour requirements. Though there have been attempts to use it to increase logistical efficiencies with some success, for which she recommends me more books.

As for medical herbs, she says while there have been a few attempts to look into it, most mages conclude its not worth the effort. There are certainly mages like me who use the spell to rapidly grow plants with complicated effects that they dont have the spells to replicate. However, in most cases, that mage will just go on to learn said spells and stop bothering with the more tedious and often less effective method. (I, of course, dont mention the use case of growing poisons, which cant be fully replicated by spell.)

Of course, alchemists have use for the same plants, but they often require contextual symbolism, which is hard to create in large batches. Likewise, while there are some herbs that are suitable to be grown in mass for alchemy, the limiting factor is again not how quickly they can be grown, but how quickly they can be used. Since the alchemical production process is typically rather slow and cant be done in large batches.

In fact, most people who try to grow medical herbs at scale are students like me who havent found more profitable methods of using magic yet, paying for some vice by selling rare herbs to mundane merchants. Which they tend to stop when their business collapses after trying to expand due to sudden difficulties in operating at that scale, such as acquiring greater and greater amounts of fertilizer, as well as just the increased labour required. Though really, she suspects it has more to do with how tedious it becomes, since most of them are nobles who will inherit wealth later anyways.

All that said, she thinks that there may still be a way to practically expand the use of the spell in the area and encourages me to keep trying. Saying that if a breakthrough is to be made, my methods are as likely to produce it as any other she encountered. Which does fill me with a bit of pride, despite the compliment coming from an Arkothan.

Productive talk? Ellen asks as I leave the classroom

Um, yeah. I had some questions for my personal research. Ill talk about it in the dialectical club. Ive made good progress; Erika might actually compliment me.

Heh, yeah. She does get a bit intense with you Oh, I saw that the frozen cream girl is selling today. I still owe you a trencher; we should go.

Eager for more cream, and remembering that I told Emily Id go more often, I readily agree to the suggestion. Despite her steadily increasing prices, theres a short line in front of the cart. Nobles all, obviously. I actually think her steady price hikes are helping retain customers. After all, the school is drowning in rich noble scions who probably think they better buy it now while its reasonably priced.

Of course, she could easily make a large profit charging only silver, possibly even more, but I think theres something more going on than just not wanting to work beyond the bare minimum. Theres also the utter uninterest she shows her customers, often continuing to read whatever book she has while scooping the cream. Its almost like shes surprised that she has any customers at all and wants to see how unreasonable she can be before driving them all away.

Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately) for her, there may not be a price short of higher value coins than gold that would drive away all customers, and only partially due to the quality of the product. As we approach the cart, we pass a group of boys walking away with trenchers in hand, laughing to themselves in hushed voices, clearly not wanting to be heard by Emily. They ask among themselves if any of them managed to get her to look at them, to which they all say they did not, laughing all the more.

It seems that her disregard for her customers has turned buying from her into a sort of game for some, to which her cream is the price of admission. Though what the object of the game is, I cannot guess.

Emily cant help but glimpse my face as I walk up, as her gaze normally directed no higher than the customers torso puts it squarely in view.

Oh, its you. Won sooner than you thought? She says, the barest hint of a smile forming at the edge of her mouth.

Um, yeah, something like that. I glance to Ellen to order since shes paying.

Emily grimaces almost imperceptibly when she realizes Im not the one paying, but for some reason quotes a price nearly half of what she was charging those ahead of us. Despite the uncharacteristic discount, Ellen baulks at the price, which is still several times higher than the one I bought her.

Feeling awkward as she fumbles for the coin, I offer to pay for mine, at least for part. Since you werent expecting a price hike.

Her head snaps towards me with a startling and uncharacteristic intensity, her eyes narrowed almost accusingly. No. The deal was a trencher for a trencher, and that is what I will pay in full. I have the coin on me. I was just surprised.

I feel myself withering at the rebuke. I dont know whether my reaction is for tricking her into owing me when I knew the price would increase, or because I offered to pay in part, seemingly offending her honour in some way thats only apparent to those who have actually lived as nobles their whole lives.

I apologize, saying I didnt mean to cause offence, which promptly returns her to her normal, serene light smile. Though I note that she straightens her back and lifts her chin high as she receives the trencher, as if viewing the act of buying it as a subject of pride whose consumption is to be displayed to any who might witness it.

Suddenly, halfway through her cream and to the club, she stops and looks at me sadly Its good, isnt it?

I nod. Its why I get it, when I can.

She nods, more towards herself than in reply to me. I dont think Ill be getting it again, though.

I look at her silently without understanding, which she sees and makes her sadder, before forcing herself to cheer up.

Its fine, she says, I wish I could just enjoy it like you, but I cant.

We continue walking in silence, her just looking at the cream, seemingly finding it a thing of terror to continue to consume. Eventually, I find the silence too awkward, so deign to break it.

May I ask you something? I ask.

Generally, yes. Though if youre asking, I suppose the answer is that it depends on what the question is.

You know what its about, I say quietly, but less of a whisper than to achieve a tone of seriousness.

Oh, that Sure, why not. Go ahead.

I nod respectfully. Why does everyone treat your family name as if its dirty?

She goes still, staring at some nothing in the distance. Her lips quiver, and her breathing intensifies before suddenly, as if a string has been cut, she relaxes all at once. Making one last nod of reassurance to herself, she sighs and speaks. Because, one day in the future, the empress is going to kill us all.

What? I say, stunned by the matter of factness to her statement as much as the content.

She smiles gently, as if to say that my not understanding is reasonable. Were royalty technically. Our line descends from a monarch supposedly a tyrant, but whos to say now that was deposed by the current ruling line. It was a more brutal time then. The default solution for regime changes was to wipe out the line of the deceased monarch to ensure that it couldnt threaten stability by rising again.

But the new king, like the current empress, was a powerful and well-studied mage who knew of several rituals that could be empowered by royal blood. The entire category of which was forbidden even then, but he figured if he was going to kill us all anyways, then we might as well be useful.

So, weve been kept around, just in case. Occasionally, the later rulers would even arrange marriages for us to make sure the asset didnt die out. Of course, the pairing was usually meant as an insult. So maybe thats a reason why people still despise us even after forgetting the history. The reason I was always told was that nobody wanted to seem like they were fostering rebellion by getting close to a potential claimant.

But now that I know that most people dont even know our history, which of course they wouldnt the Halenhal line has been very consistent in its efforts to make us as obscure as possible I realize just how pointless our torment is.

Has there been any actual rituals where your ancestors were sacrificed, or has it always just been a hypothetical asset? I ask after a moment of silence.

She laughs. Thats your first question?

I blush, feeling chastised both from her and from within. I like her; she has a sort of calming effect that I find pleasant. So, it was hard to hear the same line that I use to justify my sacrifices going to kill them anyways, might as well benefit to kill her.

Hard. I dont even know what I mean by that. Just that I feel incapable of asking the questions I really want to because Im afraid itll expose me. Let me be seen by someone I, for reasons unknown, both want to and desperately want to not be seen by.

So, I ask bland logistical questions. How many of your family have been murdered by the established power structure? What did they gain from it? Would your technical status as a royal be valid for an Anar sacrifice?

I bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood. The itching, strangely manageable over the past week, instantly returns at the thought, but I force myself still, stopping my hand from scratching at my relatively exposed neck.

Im just trying to better understand your situation, I say tepidly.

She smiles at me sadly, eyes with a pity that I think even she does not understand. Well, anyways, thereve been a few dozen sacrifices over the centuries. Mostly in the early days, of course. Our crises have grown less frequent, so theres less of a need for our blood. A fact that both comforts and terrifies us. Empress Celleste hasnt sacrificed any of us during her eighty years of rule, though Im told there was a moment in our most recent war with Hyclion that it looked like that might change.

Then perhaps you dont need to worry. Its not an inevitability that a crisis that requires royal blood will occur, and even if it does, that doesnt mean that youll be personally chosen for sacrifice.

She nods. True, but theres another level of ritual that, rather than merely requiring the death of a royal, requires the death of an entire royal line. Even if the need for such a ritual is unlikely to arise in my lifetime, the knowledge that it could happen is unnerving.

Maybe, I say, feeling strangely energized in wanting to dismiss the notion of her sacrifice. Even to the degree that I feel able to defend my enemy. But really, I doubt that most of those dozen sacrifices were truly as vital as they told themselves. There are any number of solutions to any given problem; it's just that your line happened to be an easier one than the others. Im certain that the empress could easily find benefit in sacrificing you, but has chosen not to. Meaning you should be safe until shes dead, and even if she doesnt become an immortal, shes sure to outlive us both.

Besides, Im not even certain you would still qualify as royalty. As you said, the current line has made a concerted effort to make you as obscure as possible to prevent you from gaining support for a rebellion. But royal blood isnt literal. Theres no special property in the substance of your veins that makes it potent for sacrifice, but rather in the authority bestowed upon it. So, if not enough people know you used to be royal, or rather if theres no feasible path for your return to power, then I dont think youre technically valid for the rituals.

She smiles with a slight amusement at my intensity. That might be true right now, but couldnt it be easily changed by a simple decree reminding everyone of our former royalty?

Ah, I feel myself deflate, not because of the strength of the counterpoint, but because of how obvious it should have been to me. I realize with the utterance that I wasnt really making an argument against the likelihood of the empress sacrificing her, but to prevent myself from doing the same.

I feel a mixture of emotions at the realization. Partly deflated at knowing that shes still in technical danger that I can do nothing to help, but partially bolstered because my argument is still valid for not killing her myself.

Then why dont you run away? I ask, riding the middle of the two competing flows.

She laughs. Are you offering to take me somewhere?

Ah no, I mean I cant abandon the mission for her.

Its fine, I know. Where would I go, though? Were all routinely tracked. I doubt I would even get to the border before the crowns agents found me. Besides, even if I did get away, it would just make things harder for my family, whom I do love. So no, Ill be staying right here, doom hanging over me for the rest of my life.

Ah I understand. Sorry. That was thoughtless. I dont actually understand, not having family that I wouldnt abandon myself, and being confident I could run if needed. But I do at least get the sense that what she says makes sense for her own situation.

Its fine and thanks for listening. You seem more concerned for me than the potential for my association to cause trouble for yourself, at least for now. So that is of some comfort.

Of course, I wouldnt I stop myself realizing I would absolutely cut ties with her if she jeopardized the mission. Still, I don think thats the case. Her woe is just a remnant of a past that should have long died. I wont, I correct myself. I see no reason to dissociate with you.

Thanks, she says, taking the last bite of her cream trencher as we walk into the clubroom, and I feel a warmth at the tenderness displayed.

You have some nerve showing up here after what you did! Erika shouts the moment we come into view, jolting us from the flow of our conversation. One hand is on her hip, the other pointing at me with an intensity that makes me recoil while contemplating what of the many things she might be referring to.

Share