'That's cute but, are you going to answer my questions or not?'
'I'll answer any question that doesn't involve your biological parents.'
'Why not?'
'Because I do not know them.'
He began thinking of which question to ask first. 'How do you know Howard Eriksson?' he asked her.
'I did some dealings with his father, Jonas. I brewed him a potion that gives anyone who drinks it incredible powers.'
'What kind of powers?'
'The drinker of the potion can run at three times the speed of sound and he or she will gain the strength of ten men just by taking a very small sip.'
'What about healing powers?'
'It does not offer any healing powers, unless if you were injured before you drank the potion because it is the beginning of a new life so it can only heal you once. And how is it that you are interested in him, my love, unless of course you are the boy of legend?'
'Howard was…' he coughed and cleared his throat. 'Howard was my adoptive father.'
'So you are indeed the boy of legend,' she chuckled to herself. 'But, my love, what do you mean was?' She looked curious.
'He's dead.'
'I am very sorry to hear that,' she said yet her face had a grin. Her finger was still making rounds on the cauldron. 'So, he must have left you the potion, correct?'
'That's right.'
'And I trust that you are using it wisely, are you not?' She eyed him suspiciously.
'I uhm…' He was now in regret. 'I drank the whole lot.'
'You..?' Her grin continued to broaden, this time in pleasure. She gave a brief chuckle, 'You're in trouble, boy.' She now had both her hands on the sides of the cauldron, her head between her bare shoulders.
'What are the side effects? Give me the rhyme you gave my granddad.' His face looked terrified.
She moved round the cauldron towards him, ' "A small sip each year you must take, if not your life may be at stake. To gain your freedom one good deed you must do, for the one who made your dreams come true." '
He pondered over it for a moment. He was gifted in riddles and poetry. 'So that means I should do you a favor?'
She nodded. 'A small sip makes you ten times as strong as the average man but the whole bottle will make you almost thirty times as strong and make you travel at six times the speed of sound. I knew that greed for greater power would prevail over the owner of the potion.'
She was now at least a hare's breath from his face. 'But then again, you could join me,' she said adding a shrug. 'Imagine the wonders we could perform. The Races we could conquer with you by my side, my love.'
'Races?' He asked in amazement.
'Yes, my love: Girols, Canines, Destroyers and Phantoms. We could bring them all down to their knees.'
'Are you trying to tell me that there are more funny-looking magical creatures out there?'
'I wouldn't call them that, but yes. And we are the only ones who can be stumbling blocks to their plans. You and I are the only ones worthy enough to take this world where history intended it to go. We can even kill the Races that will dare to oppose us, especially the humans.'
'Don't forget that I'm human too,' he reminded her.
'No you're not. Our Race is rare. You will soon find out that there is more to your life than you thought. More to you than Howard ever knew. Some things had to be done to bring you back to me. When history started to lag, I had to give it a push. Did you know that the flower I used to create the potion you drank blooms once every 100 000 years? It's called the "Quick brawn flower". If someone came to me wanting me to brew them a potion which grants enhanced strength and speed I would have to use a much weaker flower. Yours also had a little touch of your grandfather's science and if you bring together magic and science or a sorceress and a scientist, something epic is bound to be the climax of that combination.' She sighed reminiscently, 'I feel sorry for him, that he had to be executed but I had to move.'
'What about the kid I bumped into on my way here? The kid with spiky red hair?'
'You must mean, the Flicker. That's what he calls himself. For his potion I used a flower called "Cratum". The potion enables him to create or manipulate the air particles around him to create fire or electricity. This process, called the albino-effect, turns the pupils completely red with pain and drives him to hurt almost anyone in his way. That is why he now falls under the race of Destroyers.'
Brendan began thinking of another question to ask her. 'What about Mr. Price?'