Bog Standard Isekai
Book 3. Chapter 20

After the first night without nightmares, Brin thought it was a fluke, but then it happened again. Long, uninterrupted, dreamless sleep.

Because he couldn’t believe that something this good would happen out of nowhere, he’d gone back over his previous nightmares stored in [Memories in Glass], but he hadn’t found anything. The dreams had been dreams, and more or less how he remembered them with his actual memories. They were mostly centered on [Witches], but then again, that’s exactly what he would expect.

Searching his memories wasn’t easy; he had a lot of memories to look through. Since the mana drain was minimal, he kept recording all of the time. When one glass ring filled up, he threw it in a sack and started over with another one. They didn’t seem to degrade or need any upkeep, but retrieving those memories wasn’t an exact science. When he read back the memories in the ring, it wasn’t easy to figure out which memories he’d land on. He could fast forward or rewind to a small degree, but found it easier to just choose a different physical location on the glass ring and hope for something better.

For important memories, like the memories of casting his illusion spells, he’d developed a separate ring that he’d indexed for convenience, but for everything else it was slow going.

What really stopped his search was the fact that it was miserable. He couldn’t just look back at the memory; he had to relive it, including all the pain or anguish he’d been feeling at the time. Now that his nightmares were finally gone, he had no desire to relive them.

After wasting his entire morning on the fruitless search, he gave up. He didn’t want to risk giving himself PTSD by endlessly dwelling on it.

Besides, he didn’t really think the answer was in his memory of the nightmares. The relief coincided exactly with Lumina’s departure. His best guess was that the curse she still had on her hand had been affecting him somehow. It made sense, since the curse’s originator, Awnadil, had cursed Lumina over their disagreement about him.

He wrote his first letter to Lumina then and there, detailing everything that had happened and making it clear that he didn’t blame her and still wished her all the best. There was no telling when she’d get the letter or when she’d be able to reply.

That was all he could do for now. There was a spring in his step. With how abruptly the nightmares had departed, there was probably something unnatural about them, but why should he care? Whatever they had been, they were over now.

He went to Ademsi’s shop first, and the clockwork man was already hard at work. The workshop was starting to feel different to the place where Ademir had worked. The dollmaking section used to be a mishmash of half-completed projects, scattered with the remains of abandoned ideas and failed attempts. It was all organized now. Every tool was in a drawer, every project was categorized and documented, then carefully put away. Now the workshop was pristine, with no dust or grime anywhere, and the only tools on display were hung from hooks; the only exception were the tools Ademsi was currently using.

The magical automaton was making glass. He wasn’t doing it the way Ademir had shown him, though. Rather than interrupt, Brin stood in the corner with his arms folded to watch and figure out why.

Ademsi used a blowpipe to pull a big blob of glass out of the oven, but then rather than spin and blow, he used a pair of strong sheers to snip a large chunk of glass off and drop it into a black iron cylinder. After returning the blowpipe to the furnace, he put a lid on the black cylinder, which is when Brin realized what it was. A mold. He opened the mold up again, and the glass stuck to the inside part. He carefully pulled it off with his bare wooden fingers, and walked over to set it in the cooling oven.

Only then did he turn to address Brin. “You have arrived. Agreeable. You will assist me.”

“I will, sure, but first, why the molds?”

Ademsi’s eyes narrowed. “I do not have a method for projecting air. Another solution was required.”

“You speak,” said Brin.

“I project sound from an enchantment. Do not be fooled by the excellent dexterity of my lips; they move for your convenience only.” He shut his mouth and his voice continued unimpeded. “It is not required.”

“Ok.” Brin shrugged. “Well, the mold workaround is ingenious. Did you come up with it yourself?”

“I adapted it after seeing similar methods employed by Toros.” Ademsi’s eyes went green with pride. “The end product is adequate, and I find the utter uniformity quite pleasing. The most difficult part is cleaning the molds between each use. I made five. I use all five, then clean them, then repeat. When you are gone, I will be able to continue to supply this town with high quality glass products. No new [Glasser] came with the caravan. No new [Glasser] need come, now.”

Brin hesitated. “You heard I’m leaving then, huh? Did you… did you ever think about coming with us?”

He honestly didn’t know how feasible that was. No one in Hammon’s Bog seemed to have a problem with the two fabricated people, but he didn’t know if the whole nation was quite so open minded. Still, he figured he’d be a bad friend if he didn’t at least ask.

“I have considered this idea and rejected it. For now. I will travel some day, but the time is not now.”

Brin didn’t let any relief show on his face. He rubbed his hands together. “Fair enough. So what can I help you with? I’m not too proud to scrub molds.”

Ademsi’s mouth twitched in amused contempt. “That would be an inefficient use of your abilities. Perhaps you could help me finish these from yesterday?”

“Whatever you need.”

Ademsi had Brin use [Shape Glass] to levitate glasses and window panes in place, over a stone section of the workshop. Then Ademsi used his flame thrower to wash the surface of the glass in flame, to remove any surface bubbles and flatten any remaining bumps.

It was quick work to go through all of them, and the end result was very nice. Ademsi had Brin’s recipe for glass that he’d remembered from home, and the glasses he made were almost as nice as the factory-made glasses on Earth. With Skills, Brin’s stuff was even better than that, but it was still impressive that Ademsi was doing this all with nothing but elbow grease.

“Thank you,” Ademsi said when they were done. “Now I will assist you in one of your projects.”

“No problem, but I’m in between projects right now. I’m up for anything, though.” He really was. He stretched his arms out of habit, and felt a complete lack of soreness anywhere in his body.

“Nonsense. You desire to integrate new elements into your glasswork. This was prevented by the lamentable illness suffered by Gudio and company. Now he has recovered, and I have already contacted him. Here. Boron. You told me that glass made with this element would be resistant to thermal shock. I would like to see this.” Ademsi picked up a ceramic jug, full of a black, powdered metallic mineral.

“Ademsi, you’re the best!”

Brin rushed over to the oven, and too impatient for the blowpipe, just pulled a glob of glass out with his magic. He held it in place, forming it into an orb. “”

The orb of molten glass formed an unclean, murky shell, and then the black spot dripped down. Brin made sure to position the orb so that the contaminants fell into the waste container, and not onto Ademsi’s pristine floor.

He only had to purify glass made the old-fashioned way. Glass that he summoned on his own was already perfectly pure. Despite that, the glass he made with real ingredients and then purified always ended up better than summoned stuff. It was stronger, more resilient, and had a nicer shine.

With the purified ball of glass in place, Brin grabbed a pinch of the boron powder, planning to sprinkle it in.

“How much will you add?” asked Ademsi.

“However much feels right,” said Brin. “I think my Skills will guide me. We can do some tests after this, with different amounts just to make sure it’s right.

“Add however much feels right to this measuring cup. How much glass are you using?”

“Exactly three ounces,” said Brin. He wasn’t sure how he knew; he could just tell.

He sprinkled some powder into a small glass measuring cup, adding a tiny bit at a time until his gut told him it was enough. Ademsi took the measuring cup to a scale and got an exact measurement, and only then let Brin add it to his ball.

Brin poured it on top. “” He wasn’t too sure about those words in the Language, but the glass did what it should and the boron moved inside.

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Brin watched for a moment, feeling the glass through his magic, and realized that the glass just felt dirty now.

“It’s not melting. Boron must have a much higher melting point than glass. I can heat glass up with my [Shape Glass], but it’s a mana drain and it’ll take some time. Is there somewhere I can put this down?”

“Toros strengthened the molds against heat,” said Ademsi.

Brin plopped the glass into the base of the mold. Now that he didn’t have to waste any concentration on telekinesis, he could focus on making the glass hotter. He was thankful for his most recent upgrade in [Shape Glass]. Without that, none of this would be possible.

“” Just one word, but plenty of understanding and intent behind it. He knew that heat was just energy, and imagined how the individual interaction between atoms would grow more wild and chaotic.

The ball of glass seemed to soak up energy, but still the boron didn’t melt. He kept pushing in the mana.

For things like this, the best method was to take the time. He might be able to speed it up by pumping in his entire mana pool, but he wasn’t sure how hot he needed the glass to be. For this one, he’d go slow and make sure to capture the exact right temperature. He could go faster on the next one.

The minutes ticked by. Ademsi wasn’t much for conversation, especially not while he was working. He watched the molten glass grow incrementally hotter with the patience that only a being without a heartbeat could possess.

The door slammed open, letting in a gust of cool air.

“Ach! Sezorat’s Shifting Mirrors, it’s hot in here!” Zilly said, taking a step back and shielding her eyes.

Brin shrugged. He could tell that objectively speaking the temperature was rather high, but with [Heat Resistance] it didn’t really bother him.

Zilly clencher her jaw in determination and stepped inside, though her eyes immediately started watering.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” said Brin. “I have Skills for this and Ademsi is basically invincible.”

“Not so,” said Ademsi, though his eyes went a cheery red from the praise.

“I’m fine,” Zilly gasped. “Anyways, I just want to tell you we got it all figured out!”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Davi and Jeffrey will travel with the caravan as far as Oud’s Bog. Then they’re splitting off to hit some of the smaller bogs, but they’re traveling the same direction as you and they’ll arrive in Blackcliff only a week or two after you do. Myra is going with the caravan. She thinks on a permanent basis, so all we have to do is convince her to stay in Blackcliff instead of continuing on with them. That’ll be your job.”

“Why me? What are you going to be doing?”

“I’m not officially welcome with that caravan. Kevim made sure I wasn’t allowed to travel with them on account of how I snuck along last time. But don’t worry, I can find my way to Oud’s Bog on my own.” Zilly wiped her brow, most likely from the heat rather than any nervousness about traveling through the wilderness by herself.

“That sounds sort of like a bad idea to me,” said Brin.

“I have [Survival], and this will be the perfect time to level it,” Zilly said.

“That’s suicidal. Your class is for stabbing merchants in the back, not fighting off a horde of giant spiders. You’re going to get eaten in your sleep. Why not instead get Kevim to change his mind? You have two weeks to wear him down.”

“There’s no way he’s going to change his mind. You don’t know him like I do,” said Zilly, red-faced, but again, probably just from the heat.

Brin sighed. “Fine. I’ll see what Hogg can do. The caravan doesn’t actually answer to Kevim, there’s no reason we couldn’t convince them to let you join if you met up with us out of town.”

Zilly smiled. “Then it’s all settled! We’re basically official adventurers now! Then I gotta go. I’m literally melting in here.”

She darted out the door before Brin could protest. Honestly, he was sort of on Kevim’s side here. Zilly really shouldn’t have snuck away last time, and she really should stay behind this time. But knowing her, there was no way she’d stay behind. Like always, she’d find a way to do whatever she wanted, and all the rest of them could do was to keep her from getting herself killed.

It was only a few minutes later that the boron finally yielded. He felt it join with the glass as it melted. He swished it around a bit, until it was good and mixed in.

“Do you mind if I use the mold? Might as well make something real and it’s in there already.”

“Affirmative,” said Ademsi.

He pressed down the lid of the mold, forming the molten class into a cup shape. [Heat Resistance] or not, he wasn’t about to touch it with his bare hands like Ademsi had. He picked it up with [Shape Glass], pleased with the transparency though it was still red with heat, and then floated it to the cooling oven.

He wouldn’t know for sure if he’d really made thermal-resistant glass until tomorrow, but a notification from the System told him he was on the right track.

[Summon Glass] leveled up! 26 -> 27 [Shape Glass] leveled up! 31 -> 32

“Yes! Got a level!” said Brin.

“Would that it were so easy for me to grow stronger,” said Ademsi.

“Yeah. That is kind of weird, isn’t it? From what I understand, everything in the world should have some sort of System for gaining power. Like how undead lose levels but they get stronger from eating the flesh of the living,” said Brin.

“I can grow in power, I simply must reinvent myself. But it is not so easy to improve on the work of a genius,” said Ademsi.

“Have you asked Chamylla about it?”

“I have not.”

“Why?”

Ademsi stared coldly at Brin for a long moment before answering. “I am a former familiar. I worry that I am in a vulnerable position with regards to [Witches].”

“You’re worried that she would snatch you up as a familiar? I don’t think she could do that. Thinking people can’t become familiars,” said Brin.

“Micah and Effa Peck.”

“...were undead,” Brin finished. “That’s an exception.”

“Are magical automatons also an exception?”

“Even if they are, I don’t think Chamylla would do that. She’s in your debt, and that means something to [Witches]. Why don’t I talk to her for you?”

“If you must,” said Ademsi. “In the meantime, how will we proceed? Shall we test out different quantities?”

“We should, but if the System is rewarding me it means our first attempt is probably on the right track. I want to see if tempered glass with boron is stronger, and maybe make a knife with it, too.” Sᴇaʀch* Thᴇ ɴ0velFɪre.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

“Then let us proceed.”

They got to work, testing out every idea either one could think of, and spent the next day doing much of the same.

It wasn’t until after that work that day that he remembered his promise to talk to Chamylla. Normally, the [Enchantress] was a difficult person to schedule time with, but when he arrived on her doorstep without invitation, she quickly opened the door before he even knocked and rushed him inside.

She didn’t offer him tea or sandwiches like she normally did, but normally he had an appointment, so it wasn’t a surprise. Instead, she sat on the armchair with a wide smile. “Three! I got three whole levels from your mother’s lessons! I feel like a teenager again. Oh, have a seat my boy, and whatever can I do for you? I am quite at your convenience.”

He sat gingerly, glad he’d caught her in a good mood. Three levels put her at 52. He wondered what kind of Skills a level 52 [Enchantress] got offered.

“Actually, I just had a thought. How hard is it to learn enchanting if you don’t have the Class for it? I know you mentioned once that anyone that can do magic can enchant, they’re just limited to their own magic.”

“It is difficult,” said Chamylla. “But I’d be willing to tutor you, of course. Only… if you plan to leave with the caravan, I don’t think we could give you a proper start in that time.”

Brin nodded. After thinking for a second, he said, “If I gave you a bunch of glass balls, could you enchant them to give off bright flashes of light or make ear-splitting sounds? I’d use them as distractions, or emergency beacons. They don’t have to be anything special, I’m thinking of them as expendables.”

Just now, he’d sort of gotten the idea that he should have an external excuse for his magic. If he could show people a bunch of enchanted knick-knacks he’d gotten from Chamylla, and even let them use one or two, then it would be easy to explain any other illusion magic they saw him do. Sure, it would be better if he could also make the enchantments himself, but he didn’t really need to. He just needed enough to use as a cover for his real illusions.

“If they’re meant to be single-use, then I could whip a few up in no time at all. Glass is an excellent material for holding light and sound. Just drop off the marbles whenever you’d like.”

“Thanks,” said Brin. “I’ll pay you for your time, of course.”

“No need,” Chamylla said indulgently.

“Actually, there’s something else I meant to ask you about,” said Brin. “It’s Ademsi.”

Chamylla’s pleasant mood seemed to freeze somewhat. “What about him?”

“Is he in danger? He’s a former familiar. I’m worried that it would be easy for someone to snatch him up again.”

She crossed her legs, and folded her hands atop them primly, stiffened her back, and said, “That is a concern. We agreed that no-one should have him, in respect for his creator. If I were to try, I would fail. I switched away from that Class immediately, you know, and Ademsi is quite powerful. If I were to somehow succeed, the other [Witches] would kill me on the spot.”

Brin shrugged. “I assumed something like that. I just wonder if there’s a way to protect him permanently.”

Chamylla relaxed somewhat. “There might be a way. In the eyes of the gods, Ademsi is… a magical doll. He has a mind and a personality, sure, but he isn’t… How to put this. He isn’t a member of a race. Each race under the gods have their own method of advancement. Even the animals learn and grow in their own way, gaining strength and power by acting out their small ambitions in their own domains. They rarely reach high levels because they never stretch themselves; they do only what instinct requires. Predators will often reach high levels, and goats, for some reason. There is a suspicious amount of high-level goats. But that’s beside the point. Chairs do not level, and neither do hats, or rugs. That’s what Ademsi is right now, a highly complex tool. If he wants to be more, he needs to prove that he’s a member of a people.”

Brin nodded, thinking what that meant. Magical Automaton was his race. Why didn’t that count? Chamylla seemed to be expecting something from him, but he wasn’t sure what. He shook his head, not comprehending, and she sighed.

“He needs to prove he can reproduce,” said Chamylla.

Brin barked a laugh, and then when he saw Chamylla wasn’t joking, continued to chuckle awkwardly. “I don’t know what I expected you to say, but it wasn’t that. Can he and… I can’t believe I’m even asking this. Can Ademsi and Evita even…?”

“Not as they are now,” said Chamylla.

“Can you help them?”

Chamylla tightened her lips together. “I will provide any enchantment that Ademsi desires of me, if I can produce it, free of charge. I owe Ademir that much. But would you accept some advice from me?”

“Sure,” said Brin.

“Give him some time. Ademsi is young, though he doesn’t look it. Give him some time to figure out who he is and how he wishes to exist in this world. You had fourteen years to figure that out. He should have at least three.”

Brin nodded. They chatted about other things. The weather, and gossip about the new arrivals, fulfilling the social obligation of small talk that he’d skipped by getting straight to the point.

When he later told Ademsi that he’d convinced a level 52 [Enchantress] to make him whatever he wanted for free forever, the automaton said, “I see” and changed the subject. That made him think her advice to give him time was right on the money. Brin let it go for now, and focused on glass.

The next two weeks were probably the best he’d ever had since arriving in this world. No undead army on the horizon, no horrible [Weaver] spreading rumors about him, and no evil [Witches] plotting his destruction. He made glass with Ademsi, practiced his new guitar with Davi, worked on illusions with Hogg, and even dueled a couple more times with Zilly. He won the next two bouts, and she won the one after that.

The time passed quickly, and soon the day of the wedding arrived. The day after, Brin would be leaving Hammon’s Bog.

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