Chapter 163: Cotton

Excerpt from the book “Energies of the world” By Rosalie

As much as nature energy is boring to me, it is fundamental to life. Without it, witches would be a fable, druids fools, and me… Out of a job. It was the first energy I was exposed to, inspiring me to make my lives work.

Whether that work is worthwhile? You be the judge.

Nature energy is commonly considered green. It is visualized as green, seen as green; everyone thinks it's green.

It's not green; you only see green from preconceived notions of what it should look like. Its true color is….

The sounds of a rolling boil fill the open air. A pink mixture slowly laps at the edges of the cast-iron container – the kettle.

A gentle hum fills the air as the kettle is stirred. “Glad I picked up those cocoa beans; it was the last ingredient,” I say, tossing them into the brew. Watching as the liquid hastily dissolves the beans like a hungry beast.

“Brew of love, how misunderstood you are.” Said in a sing-song voice at the irony of the potion. It doesn’t cause love, only desire. Alas, it is needed for the sleeping potion. Silently hoping that no one finds out I had to make a love potion. “My love life isn’t that bad, Okay!” Gently chuckling at my own attempt at self-deprecating humor.

Taking my prepared glass bottles, gently submerging them inside the pink liquid. This potion is likely the simplest method to make animals breed in this new reality. It is why a couple batches were made at once, rather than a single portion.

With the final and most complex ingredient complete, the kettle is heated once more. A bucket of water fills its now empty cavity, ready for the next potion to be made.

First, purified milk is gently poured into it, sending it a cloudy white. Next, a cookie; crumbled in, sending streaks of brown through the white mixture. The brew of love is gently poured in, turning the white a crisp pink. A whiff of magic is thrown in with little care, giving the pink an enchanting glow. An icy needle is placed on top, softly dissolving into luminescent water that floats on top.

The final ingredient, water artichokes; placed within, sinking into the opaque liquid. Moments later, the brew swirls slightly, the cloudy color becoming a bright pink with a ghostly glow.

Removing the mixture with a few more glass bottles, I marvel at the color. “Making potions is relaxing.” Glancing over at the 8 love potions off to the side. “Might have made a couple too many.” Reminding me to get myself a witches robe and hat soon.

With the potion complete, it is time to do something annoying. Starting the intentionally slow walk towards my bedroom. The room me and Cassie share under normal circumstances. Alas, I’ve already told her that I may as well be in a coma. The sleeping potion being scarily effective.

My mind is clouded with anxiety; the thought of having to do things from scratch for a stupid item is… Stressful.

Finally, coming to my room, I open it. Being surprised to see both Cassie and Jengal calmly waiting.

Jengal spots me, quickly jumping up. “About damn time, you gonna brew the day away?”

Crossing my brows in confusion, “why were you waiting?”

Cassie sees fit to tell me, calmly walking towards me. “We thought you could use a little backup.”

I go to refuse them, but the words get stuck in my throat. A small bloom of emotions in my chest;” thank you;” is all I was able to say.

“Damn, I will have to make some more after this.” Sitting on the edge of my bed, Jengal and Cassie beside me.

Handing them 2 icy needles each. “You will wake, either by dying or stabbing yourself with the icy needle. When you fall asleep, we will all be on the same plane technically. We are likely to get a bad dream. Even if one of us gets a good one, we can still see each other.”

Handing out a sleeping potion to each of them. “Bottoms up,” I say.

“What does that mean?” Jengal asks.

“Drink it,” said using a deadpan face.

Cassie chuckles before downing her potion. Her body relaxes like a puppet with the strings cut. Falling back limb and unmoving. A chill goes down my spine looking at her figure, only reassured by the gentle raising and lowering of her chest. With a deep breath, I drink the liquid. Tasting a rich chocolate milk taste. Something I have long missed.

As soon as the last drop passed my lips, I’m assaulted by overwhelming exhaustion. Closing my eyes and succumbing to the gentle embrace of sleep.

Suddenly, I’m awake. Looking around in a slight daze at the jarring shift.

“Close your eyes!” Cassie shouts.

Doing as asked, confusion mounting.

“It’s no fair; you appeared with clothes!” She cries.

Realization dawned on me; she spawned without clothes. Whereas I did. “Cassie, please find something to cover yourself. My eyes are kinda needed, so we don’t get are selves killed.”

She grunts in annoyance, rustling following shortly after. With a deep sigh, she speaks. “You can look now.”

Opening my eyes was a shock to my system. The sight before me nearly caused my nose to bleed. A scantily clad Cassie, wearing poorly tied long grass; her body barely covered. After getting an eyeful, I turn my gaze away. Picking up some nearby greenery and using my rusted survival skills to tie her a functional wardrobe.

While tieing it all together, Jengal chooses to appear. In that same dazed state, he stumbles slightly. “What? Where am I?”

Choosing to quickly spin him round and covering my eyes. “Sit down. Try not to move; I’ll make you some clothes.”

It is at that point he realizes he isn’t wearing anything. Snapping out of his confusion and gasping slightly. He carefully sits, covering himself.

I continue to finish Cassie’s clothes, handing them to her, before making Jengal some. “They aren’t perfect, but they function.”

Having been forced to waste precious minutes in making clothes, I finally assess the surroundings. “A nightmare, typical. Cassie, Jengal, is it day or night?”

“Day,” Jengal says.

Quickly followed by “night,” by Cassie.

“Okay, night means nightmare, day means good dream. Or, as I call it, daydream.”

Jengal jumps up the air, “sweet.”

Rolling my eyes at the lucky bastard, “okay, Cassie, we need to avoid the nightmare. He will appear shortly; we are on the clock.”

Looking around, seeing hide nor hair of the creature. “Jengal, break the earth and make a simple home. Dirt walls, stairs to the roof, that stuff.”

“Copy.” He says, saluting me. Beginning to dig up the earth in a small dirt quarry.

I shouldn’t have taught him that. “Cassie, see if you can find some gravel or stones.”

“Got it.” She quickly walks off, searching the ground for stones.

Heading to the closest tree, looking for some kind of small log or large stick for a handle. Finding a few that match what I want.

Walking back to the campsite, Cassie has returned with a handful of rocks. Picking up the best ones, smashing them until one has a similar shape to an ax head. With the now sharp rock, I cut some long grass and split the wood. Fitting the ax head onto the wooden log; before binding it with the plant fibers.

“You seriously did survive out here!” Jengal exclaims.

Without turning away from my creation, which I am carefully binding. “Yeah, and it was my first time making a hatchet at the time.”

Happy with my shoddy tool, I walk over to the closest tree. Cutting it down with terrible slowness. With the wood in hand, I split it into planks and craft a crafting table. Converting the rest into wood, and then some into sticks. Making a few wood axes.

Handing a wooden ax to both Cassie and Jengal. “Jengal, get some wood, Cassie looks for food of some kind.”

“I don’t know what to look for,” Cassie says with a frown. Jengal wanders off to the closest tree.

“Look for berry bushes, small root vegetables. If you fail, it is okay. Just give it a try. Don’t go too far.”

She nods, walking towards the forest.

Collecting some wood for myself and making a wooden pickaxe. Using it to collect enough stone to upgrade to a stone pickaxe. Hate wooden tools; they suck.

With a stone pickaxe, I hastily collect a large quantity of stone. Not striking any ore, to my sadness. Slowly expanding the dirt quarry into an actual quarry.

With enough stone, I make a furnace and 3 sets of stone tools. By the time I am finished, Jengal is hauling large amounts of logs. “I miss my golden bag,” I exclaim. Slowly funneling the wood into the furnace to make charcoal.

“Some of us have to live without such conveniences,” Jengal says with pride.

Cassie finally returns, holding some red berries. She hands them to me, giving me the eyes of, are they edible? Did I do good? Looking at them, I smile. “You know, these are the berries I lived off when I was trapped in the wilderness. Nice one, Cassie.”

Making a stone bowl with cobblestone, handing it to her. “Get as many as you can.”

“Okay,” she shouts, rushing back into the forest.

Food is on the way, charcoal is being produced, we have stone tools; not bad. Looking around at the familiar yet foreign area. The place under my island, an ocean, and forest a stone's throw away from the rolling hills we are on.

The short moment of calm was broken by a heart-wrenching shriek. Cassie comes running out of the forest in tears.

Rushing towards her, grabbing her, and hugging her. My eyes carefully scan the treeline she ran from.

“Are you okay?” I ask, gently stroking her back to calm her down.

“It, it, it, was, black, big, big, and it followed, fol, me.” She stutters between sobs.

It isn’t long before I spot the demonic cyclops.

A one-eyed black phantom floats atop the earth, slowly moving towards us. Ripped fabric for legs, long gangly arms, and a horrifying pitch-black eye. Suppressing the fear in my chest, “Cassie, it is super slow; take a look.”

She rubs her head against my chest, breathing slowly. “No, I don’t want to look.”

“Okay, head inside; I will lead it away.” Gently pushing her towards the doorway. She goes inside, not daring to look away.

“Damned thing.”

Jengal is just off to the side, following my gaze. “I don’t see it.” He says in slight concern.

“You’re in a good dream, lucky bastard.”

He holds his hands up, “not my fault.”

“No, it's not. Look, see that plant?” Pointing at some whispy cotton.

“Yeah.”

“Collect as much as you can. Only you can collect it since you are in a good dream.”

“Okay.”

Following my own advice, luring it away while breaking some.

Jengal notices that I am breaking the cotton, “why are you breaking it?”

“Nightmares give a different, almost as valuable plant.”

“I see.”

We both wander off in our own directions, collecting whispy cotton.

It isn’t long before the common weed is collected into two large piles. “Not bad,” I say to Jengal.

“Yeah, the damned stuff is everywhere,” Jengal says while tossing a few bits into the air.

Heading to the dirt hut, “Cassie, we can leave now.”

She walks to the doorway, “thank God.” She says before stabbing herself with an icy needle. Disappearing like a mirror shattering.

I had hoped she would take some of the cotton with her. Shaking my head, can’t blame her. Turning to Jengal, “carry as much as you possibly can.”

With 2 armfuls of wispy cotton, we realize too late we need a hand to wake up.

Jengal sets down his cotton. “Wait, I have an idea.” He takes his icy needles and jams them into the dirt. Picking up his cotton, he sits down on it. Disappearing with his load of cotton.

Shaking my head, it’s stupid, but it works. Sitting down on the second needle, finding myself in bed, covered in cotton.