The Price of Knowledge

The presence of the Observer in the lab was unnerving. Actually, she was no longer an Observer, but the Inquisitor's Emissary. However, Sirius was so used to calling her Observer, that he had a hard time thinking about her otherwise. Especially since she would always shuffle around him, asking what he was doing at the moment, which he gladly shared. On one hand, he would need to report either way, but on the other hand, the Emissary seemed genuinely interested what would be the next thing Sirius made.

Now Sirius sat at the table, looking at the mess around. His notes, now carefully spread across several notebooks were lying open on the wooden table, small metal bars keeping them open. Corners of those bars were ground down on the grindstone, lying on the other end of the table. In the middle a sizeable chunk of chalk occupied Sirius' gaze. He tried to understand its purpose in the ritual chalks, but failed time and time again. Additionally, he could not meditate and shift the mana around in the presence of Emissary, since he should not be able to do that. At least he could quickly draw a diagram to do what he needed, since he was now allowed to compose new diagrams.

Eventually, he gave up. More than half of a summer has passed, and he only presented what Order considered common knowledge. That idea annoyed Sirius to his very core, since it was the Order, who limited the access to information. Whenever he asked the Inquisitor stuff, it was either unknown or a secret, so Sirius had to thread his own path.

"Where are you going?"

"I will ask a blacksmith for clay, if he has some. Otherwise, I'll go gather at the creek."

"Why?" She was not a big talker.

"I want a change of pace, may also be useful to the village and make some pots."

"Do you need help?"

"I'll manage, thank you. If I will go out, I'll notify you."

"Fine. I'll be in the church." Emissary said.

As Sirius suspected, smithery was out of clay, and what was left was not suitable for what Sirius planned. So, after notifying the Emissary about his leave, he went towards the river. On his way he managed to train his mind a bit by passing the mana through his body. At the place where river slightly bent, he found the digging place where people of the village took clay for their needs. Last summer, when he was dying from boredom, he learned how to do pottery, and he wanted to try it out for real this time. As he gathered a full basket of fine, deep orange clay, he began walking home, thinking about what he would make with it. At the village he gave almost everything to the blacksmith, taking only a couple of chunks, enough for some experiments.

He walked inside the lab, finding it empty for once. As he place the clay on the table, he moved away the chalk and a tray with bowls, containing powdered metal he ground on the stone. Deep in his thought he was not paying attention and placed a tray on the table with mana condensation diagram, accidentally activating it. He felt gold draining of the stored mana, but was not fast enough to react. But then a tin bowl began loudly crackling and flashing with sparks, small explosions flinging the sharp metal shavings everywhere. Sirius tried to cover his eyes and remove the tray, but the bowl exploded, launching shrapnel in every direction, tin shavings, red-hot drops of molten metal and sharp ceramic shards covering his skin and setting some hair aflame. Sirius was blinded by the small dust, that got in his eyes, and stumbled across the room towards the alchemical table. There should have been some pure water and alcohol to wash the wounds, but he could not find it. He stressed his mind and tried feeling the world with his mana senses. His attention was brought by some bright spot, and he took it in his hands. Feeling the glassy surface, he concluded it to be the World Tree leaf. Angry at its uselessness in current situation, Sirius angrily smashed it against the table with his wounded hand, turning a meaty leaf into mush. He immediately felt his arm getting heavier and wanted to look, but could not open his eyes. He tried touching them, but something began spreading across his face, covering his eyes and cheeks.

The door opened and Gregor along with Emissary found Sirius on the floor, back facing the entrance. He hastily rubbed his face when they entered and turned around to face them. All over his face was green glassy crystal, like a glass, under which they could see blood stains on his skin.

"Who is there!?" In panic asked Sirius.

"It's me. What exploded?" Answered Father Gregor

"I don't know. A bowl. What is on me, I can't see!" He said while trying to feel himself with his healthy arm.

"Calm down. Is it spreading?" Said Emissary, her domineering tone bringing Sirius back from panic.

"No, I think. It feels like a glass. What is it?"

"It is a green crystal, its color similar to the World Tree." Described Father Gregor.

"World Tree?..." That calmed Sirius down a bit.

"Are you wounded?" Asked the Emissary.

"I... I was... But... I don't feel the pain anymore."

"Can you move your hand?"

"Just the fingers... Can you look inside?"

"Yes."

"Do you see cuts?"

"No, there is not even a drop of blood."

"I feel it peeling from my cheek. Is it also healthy?"

"I could say so." Interjected Father Gregor.

"The World Tree... Its leaves are incredible..." Said Sirius with relief in his voice, his face still covered by heavy green crystal.