Mana was… strange. In some way, the ability to perceive it was a sixth sense. At the same time, the typical Mana Sense granted by hitting 25 Perception also grafted mana onto the other senses, allowing one to see it, hear it, or even taste it.

All in all, this made for some decidedly strange forms of art.

The second floor, I soon learned, was for art which straddled the line between magical and mundane. Much like the statue Verin and I had seen at the ball, it was for pieces which could be enjoyed by someone with the ability to perceive mana, but which were augmented in some way with its addition.

Much to my bemusement, there were additional nudes found within, though the most standard way to add mana to such pieces was to clothe them with it, in a sense. Dark marble forms delicately draped in weaves of glowing fire mana. A warrior, snarling in a battle pose, with tears of water mana dripping down his face, hinting at a reluctance or an element of grief to his struggle.

At least half the pieces seemed to use the mana for some form of statement. A hidden dimension to a piece which changed its meaning once visible. I was curious to note that we were offered temporary mana glasses on entering the floor, and could see a few other patrons looking first at the unaltered art, and only then putting the lenses on.

Attempting to recreate their experience, I tried to turn my own Mana Sense off, but to no avail. I asked Verin if such a thing was possible, and she confirmed that it was, though not without numerous levels in some sort of body control skill. Especially as she’d just recently gotten past the Perception threshold, she was apparently just as incapable as I in this regard.

It was the paintings that really stuck out to me, though. I quickly discovered that there were methods for mixing mana types into paint. While sometimes such a thing would be used to augment a particular color -- a frigid tundra, the blue of the ice mixed with frost mana -- often it would serve as a bizarre sort of contrast. Bone white skeletons, with life mana spilling out from them. Clear blue waters set ablaze with fire. It felt, in some odd way, as if I was seeing colors I hadn’t known existed before. Using my senses in ways I’d never known were possible.

These, I decided, were my favorite.

In a more limited way, there were some photographs too. Using light or illusion magic in what I imagined to be a similar manner to the mirror gems in my room, various scenes were captured in near perfect detail. Instead of leaving them as faithful representations of reality, however, the artists had gone back in, altering them, painting over them with mana much in the same way as the statues and the paintings.

Surprisingly, however, the biggest treat of the floor turned out to be… well, a treat.

“Is that- Are they serving ice cream over there?” I pointed over to a room where, for all intents and purposes, it certainly seemed that people were buying and eating mouthfuls of frozen custard. Somehow, food being served in an art gallery already failed to compute for me, but especially something as sticky and messy as ice cream was all the stranger.

“Ah, I’d forgotten. They have mana custards here. Frozen creams imbued with various mana types. Not many visual artists ever work with the ‘taste’ aspect of mana, so it’s meant to showcase that element. I must say, I’m actually fairly curious. I’ve only ever tried it before the threshold.”

Well, I sure as hell wasn’t going to say no. Largely abandoning the pieces in the current room we were in, we made a beeline to the custard counter. Far from being satisfied with ordering a single flavor, we sampled a few, doing our best to rank them as we went.

Verin, I found, ate slowly, savoring each bite and examining the taste to the fullest. I had to remind myself several times about the etiquette of food here, so as not to make her think I was trying to rush her or didn’t enjoy her company.

“Thoughts?” We’d started with most of the combinations that sounded the most appealing, and were quickly working our way into the danger territory. Right now, she was sampling one of the premium flavors -- Swamp Blossom -- a delicate floral flavor imbued with swamp mana. It vaguely reminded me of those Harry Potter jelly beans, in a way, where some of the flavors were unpalatable for the gag of it more than anything else.

“I can’t say I overly enjoy it,” she admitted. “Like chewing on a rose, only to realize it hasn’t been washed and still has flecks of dirt on it. Or perhaps licking the wet earth after a summer rain and then attempting to wash it out with floral soap.” Despite her description, she took another bite, not a single muscle in her face betraying her thoughts. She ate it placidly until not a speck remained. “And yours?”

I’d opted for something called “Spring Cleaning” -- an intensely floral and citrusy custard with cleaning mana in it. I wasn’t actually aware that was a real type of mana, honestly. Was it a composite type? Advanced? I made a mental note to ask the archmage next I saw him.

The custard itself, though, was infuriating. For a single instant, I’d get an intensely pleasant and sweet taste on my tongue, only for the cleaning mana to somehow wash it all away. The taste just… vanished. It was like being gaslighted by a cup of ice cream, trying to convince me there was nothing to taste.

“I have never been so angry from eating ice cream in my entire life. This actually ranks lower than the mud flavors.” I’d tried a few just to see if Kexstella was onto something. She was not.

“I find myself curious now. May I?” Verin grabbed the cup from me and sampled a spoonful, her face lighting up only for her to look stunned a moment later. Her face scrunched up into the most pitiful expression, a frown slowly sliding into place, and once again I found myself unable to hold back a laugh.

“I believe I share your anger,” was all she said.

We decided to end our sampling there, instead grabbing one last cup of our respective favorites -- a tea-flavored custard with smoke mana for Verin, and an herby summertime custard with storm mana for me.

With our culinary adventure over, we decided to continue perusing the gallery. As we left the room, a cleaning spell kicked off, removing any of the sticky custard residue from our hands. Or, at least from mine. Verin had been painstaking in her form, never letting so much as a speck of the substance touch her skin.

After a short jaunt through a good portion of the other rooms, we agreed to ascend once more onto the third and final floor.

Here, there was no mixture of magical and mundane. Every piece was made purely from mana. Barring the usage of mana glasses, anyone without a mana sensory ability would have found each room entirely empty.

The floor was much more experiential than the previous two. Some exhibits were meant to be walked through, to have the mana prickle against your skin and hum in your ears. One such room gave me the disconcerting sensation that my skin was made of glass, and I wondered if perhaps this was what some people felt when using the more mind-altering drugs.

The largest portion of the floor was dedicated to what was apparently a newer exhibit: The Mana of Growth. It was a set of nine sprawling rooms which were meant to “allow one to embody the ethos of each stat.”

A Strength room, full of gaudy colors, lively hums, and a heady, overpowering scent which boiled the blood. We had to leave after only a few minutes, as I was convinced that even with Verin’s self control, we’d find ourselves sparring or in a fist fight before we knew it.

A Charisma room, equal parts demure and vibrant, hinting at sultry parlors and radiant thrones. From each person in the room, I felt a pulling, pulling, pulling, replete with the information that I too was stunning, shining, gripping on all of them as they were on me. Wrapped in the thick cloak of the room’s mana, Verin struck me as an empress, chiseled from ice. We made the horrible mistake of making eye contact, remaining frozen in that position until a couple walking by broke the spell. Hastily, we moved on.

When finally it was over, I found myself exhausted, if not physically, than perhaps in every other sense. I’d even gained a skill level from it all.

Mental Resistance has increased to level 8!

“I did not realize the rooms featured both raw mana and emotional enchantments,” Verin admitted. “That was… a much more potent experience than I’d anticipated.” By agreement, we’d gone into the exhibits largely blind, intent on experiencing them before we read too much about them. In retrospect, perhaps we’d made the wrong call.

After a short rest, we agreed to call it a day, descending back to floor level and heading out from the gallery. Verin’s carriage awaited nearby.

“A most agreeable outing,” she announced once we’d neared her ride home. “With most agreeable company,” she added. “I pray you will forgive me, for under most circumstances I would invite you over for a light meal to further discuss what we encountered, but I find myself in need of some time alone to reflect. Please view it not as a slight, and I hope to speak with you further in the future.”

I waved the concern away, not having enough of a sense for the etiquette of the situation to know or care about what she was supposed to do. Frankly, I was in agreement. I’d had a blast -- actually a lot more fun than I’d thought I would -- but I was tapped out.

“Oh! One last thing. I brought a gift.” I fished around in my spatial pouch, pulling out a cloth-wrapped bag that Barb had given me only days before. “Nothing too fancy, but I was told it might bring back some memories.”

With her head ever-so-slightly tilted to the side, she accepted the bag, opening it up and taking a deep breath in as the scents wafted out. Her eyes widened, seemingly without her noticing.

“I believe this blend of tea used to be my favorite… I can’t quite recall why I ever stopped- Ah. This was one of the Barber’s self-made blends, was it not? How deeply, truly nostalgic. Thank you, and please thank him on my behalf when next you meet. You’ll have to come over at some point and sample it with me.”

I agreed readily, and we wrapped up our conversation. As a closing note, she gave me the names of a few other galleries worth exploring should I have the desire. Although to hear her say it, if I was to go with my other friends, she somehow doubted Alara would make the best companion, though perhaps I’d have better luck with “that dark-mana-shifted fellow.”

Neither, as far as I was aware, had passed their own Perception thresholds, however. Nonetheless, I filed it away as a potential bonding activity for the future.

And with that, she was off. She secured a promise from me to come over sometime soon, got into her carriage, and was whisked away.

For my part, I took the more conventional route back home, if the loop could be considered as such.

All in all, though, I was quite happy how the day had gone. And when I at last returned home, I was happy to report to Markus that no wars had been started either.