A day had passed since Morn and Vincent's experiment on the oarat. Vincent was terrified of the gas and suggested tossig it into the sea with a weight and burning the formula. Morn had disagreed, stating that the gas was safer in their hands than in the ocean. Vincent had reluctantly agreed after Morn promised to no longer perform tests with the gas.
In the end, Morn had sealed the tank, adding a warning label to it. He set it in the corner of the room, hidden away below the gas taken from the Levjottun's throat sac, and warned Azur about its effects. They'd agreed to bury the gas tank where no one could find it when the time came to leave the island. They both memorised the formula before burning it. They would only write it down again when providing it to the Yoltaen Alkimiya Society.
They did so in case they were raided by pirates when passing through Palk on the way back to Yol. If the wrong people obtained the formula, it could be used by the pirates to terrorise small islands.
For the same reason, all important gas formulas had to be destroyed in the event of a raid on an Alkimiya workshop. All workshops kept their formulas stored in a vault filled with pyral gas, ready to be ignited at a moment's notice.
Currently, Morn had just arrived at Toli's hut after having lunch with Azur. When he arrived Toli was once again smoking his pipe on the steps of the hut. As Morn approached, Toli paused his smoking:
"Good afternoon, I swear I'm not always smoking! You just catch me at the wrong times."
Morn laughed lightly, "I didn't think anything of it, but now that you mention it..."
"Damn my big mouth." Toli smiled jokingly, noticing Morn's sour mood.
Morn sat beside Toli on the steps of his hut, then returned the half empty bag of Carlisle berry skins to the elder. Toli accepted the bag, staring at him languidly.
"I suppose your research is over?"
Morn nodded warily, "The gas had unexpected effects."
Toli let out a deep sigh as he raised his pipe.
"Some things…"
Toli drew deeply from the pipe, then blew it into the air. The smoke formed the shape of a snake before disappearing.
"...are better left undiscovered." Toli finished.
The two sat in silence for a moment, before Toli looked at Morn's prosthetic hand, after a moment he gave a satisfied nod.
"It seems to be holding up just fine. How are you liking it?"
Morn paused for a moment, thinking about the hand. Recently, he'd stopped noticing any awkwardness. It had begun to feel like his original hand, far sooner than he'd expected.
"It's as good as the original, just like you said. In fact, it may just be an improvement. If it didn't hurt so badly, I'd replace the other hand as well."
Morn joked, receiving a short laugh from Toli.
"I'm glad to hear it. If it ever needs repairing when you're back in Yol, seek out an artisan from Moin. They will know how to repair most of it. Although, they won't be able to make you a whole new one, so try not to destroy the thing too badly, if you can help it."
Morn knocked his prosthetic against the wood steps of the hut and smiled.
"Frankly, Toli, I think this thing might outlast me. It's sturdy as a rock, even sturdier, in fact. Hendrick said it was made from an ironwood found near the Stormpass, is that so?"
Toli gave a long nod as he exhaled another round of smoke, then he pointed at the hand.
"He's right about the Stormpass, but that ain't ironwood. That's stormwood you've got there, hard as diamond and even more durable till it gets below freezing. To shape it, you have to use an arcane circle to generate freezing temperatures, or you can find a cold enough place."
Toli coughed briefly, then continued, Morn listened attentively:
"The tree stars as an ironwood sapling, but it grows into something different when struck by the red lightning of the Stormpass. That's why Hendrick thought it was ironwood. The tree grows up the path of the red lightning instantly, shooting into the sky for tens of metres. Collecting it is dangerous, works just like a lightning rod, and when it falls, it falls hard. Watching it grow is a glorious sight."
Toli breathed out a large cloud of pale pink smoke, the cloud formed the image of a sapling being struck by lightning, then transformed into the shape of a giant tree. Morn stared at the smoke in awe.
"How do you do that, Toli? Shaping the smoke, I mean."
Morn stared at the old man eagerly, waiting for his reply. Toli nodded slowly and looked to Morn, he raised his pipe and pointed to runic carvings on the bottom of the stem.
"Before I founded this place, I was one of Moin's most promising young arcanists- their words, not mine. We were on an expedition, looking for new materials in the Regret Corridor, the larger stretch of water between Llairbylge and the Stormpass."
Toli began to shape the smoke, displaying images of his story. The smoke took on the shape of a young man in arcanist robes boarding a ship, then travelling across a map of Malsata.
"At some point in our voyage, our farseer betrayed us, much like what happened to you. It turns out, he was a pirate from Palk. He guided us into his crews territory, and we were raided by seven ships. Even with a shipful of powerful arcanists, we were helpless against the viciousness of several hundred skilled pirates. The worst thing, that 'Farseer' wasn't even actually a farseer. Dozens of skilled arcanists, and none of us noticed. They made fools out of us."
The smoke depicted a vast fleet of pirate ships and tens of row boats approaching the ship the young arcanist occupied. Hooks flew from the row boats, latching onto the arcanist ship. Hundreds of pirates climbed the ship, slaying the arcanists.
"In the end, I was left half dead, drowning in a puddle of my friend's blood. Fortunately, I'd learned of a sacrificial arcane ritual. I used my arm and the blood for the exchange and activated the ritual. I was transported hundreds of siloy away from battle, ending up on a floating sheet of salt in the Storm Commons. I used my notebook to paddle with my remaining arm. Eventually, I ended up here."
The smoke formed the image of a young Toli arriving on the island, struggling to climb the cliff, using two daggers, one in his hand and one in his mouth, to climb. When he reached the top, he marched inland and began building a hut.
"At first, I considered returning to Moin, but I soon decided against it. An arcanist who abandoned his crew for his own safety, there would've been only a life of shame awaiting me back home. Either by fate, or by divine providence, people started to arrive on the island, seeking shelter just like me."
The image of people arriving at the island and Toli constructing walls and huts for the villagers slowly appeared in the smoke.
"Over the years, I protected them from the occasional Levjottun, putting my arcanist knowledge to use I made myself an arcane arm. Eventually, the currents brought our island near the Stormpass, a lightning bolt happened to strike a tree I had recently planted. When we escaped the area and were free of the storm, I harvested the wood and used it to make myself a better arm."
The image of a middle aged Toli crafting an arm for himself appeared in the smoke.
"During my time here, I took up the pipe and put down my sword and my magic. Eventually, people more suitable to guard the villagers appeared. Now, the rest is history. Many years have passed, and here I am talking to you."
The smoke turned into a miniature version of Morn and Toli, then disappeared into the wind. Toli leaned his head back and stared at the clouds. Morn sat for a moment, stunned by the story. Morn eventually sighed and joined Toli in staring at the clouds.
After a few moments, Morn pointed at a cloud that looked nothing like a sheep.
"Hey, Toli. Doesn't that cloud look kind of like a sheep."
From the corner of his eye, Morn saw a smile slowly spread across Toli's face.
"No, Morn. That looks nothing like a sheep."
With a loud and rolling chuckle, the old man climbed to his feet and walked down the path, continuing to laugh as he went. A light red slowly spread across Morn's cheeks as he felt them warm.
"You try to have one nice moment…"
With a small laugh of his own, Morn stood and walked to a corner of the village. There, Morn found a group of children 'playing harvester' as they pretended to be harvesters sent from Yol on an expedition. Morn approached the group and sat on a small bench. The children excitedly gathered around him.
One young boy that Morn recognized as Endull, the kid who had pretended to be Morn, shouted excitedly to him.
"First mate Morn! First mate Morn! Tell us more about your adventures with Azur."
Morn smiled mischievously as he leaned against the back of the bench. Morn took a deep breath and lowered his voice as he began to speak.
"One day, long before you all were born, captain Azur and I were travelling through the deadly sea far to the west, Ottbjur. We voyaged to the great volcano of Amkabhad, the very volcano in which Malsali was thrown many millennia ago. The captain and I had just run out of weapons and gas when a giant Levjottun rose from the sea! With nothing but our fists, and our wits we leapt onto the beast and…"