A Dungeon’s Survival

Rose

I sighed, dejected as I spread the vial of crimson blood across the garden bed. I couldn't help but to lament my misfortune. I wasn't sure if it was because I was merely awakened instead unbound from the mistress entirely or if, instead, it was the simple fact that I remained a mere Lizard Man that made all the difference, but regardless of the cause, it didn't change the outcome. Whereas the lifeblood of my peers, Hunt and Rein, could nurture the Mandrakes under my care, mine was utterly useless. It was a shame.

Despite the fact that there was little I wouldn't have done to be able to provide for my plants myself, no amount of wishing could imbue my blood with whatever it was that it lacked, so rather on dwelling on it, I tried to immerse myself in my work instead. More got done that way, and besides, I genuinely loved what I did. I wasn't sure if it was because it was literally what I was made for or if I'd simply been fortunate enough to have my calling be what was needed of me, but either way, to me, there was nothing more rewarding than nurturing life and helping it grow.

With my unsightly envy successfully quashed for the time being, I set aside the now empty vial that served as an ever-present reminder of my inadequacy and moved to care for the next bed of alchemical ingredients. The cave room I worked in was large, and as always, there was much to do. While not everything required the same amount of attention, I was still surrounded by magical herbs, strange crops, and other types of unusual flora. They all–if not required–at least deserved my utmost care, and I made sure to give to them.

There were things, like the Mandrakes, where the inherent needs and risks associated with them were obvious. If they weren't provided enough blood, they'd be worse than useless when the time came for my teacher to utilize them. Likewise, their screeches were deadly, and even if dying would no longer mean the end for me now that I'd been awakened, it was still an unacceptable outcome that would result in wasted time, mana, and, most importantly, in the case of the Mandrakes doing me in, an unpredictable energy being let loose in a garden where every variable needed to be precisely controlled. That wasn't something I could allow, so even if the plant monsters around me were bound by the mistress's order not to harm me, I still gave them every last bit of respect and care they were owed. Not every one of other plants were as straightforward as they were, but still, I endeavored to treat them all with the same level of care.

While the Mandrakes were an extreme example of these plants' needs and risks, not all of the others' were quite as glaringly obvious. The flowers growing in the plot of soil I moved to next were a testament to that. Bewitching Petunias, while easy to care for, required precise monitoring and even more active care when it came time to harvest.

Before me, the patch of flowers were as breathtakingly beautiful as their name would imply, but I didn't let that distract me from what they really were: dangerous. While they might not have posed a risk to my life, they embodied an entirely different kind of threat. One wrong move could put me out of commission for longer than simply dying would, and worse, that same carelessness could ruin the entire crop.

As gorgeous as their dazzling petals may have been, their shimmering beauty isn't where they got their name from, at least not according to one of my teacher's books, and I was inclined to believe it. While it was true I could end up transfixed, admiring their radiant forms for hours on end by merit of their appearance alone, that spoke more to my appreciation for them than anything else. There was a level of irony in that since their innate magic demanded the same, just more forcefully.

All it would take from them was a little bit of pollen to force an individual into a nearly inescapable trance, stealing their thoughts away from them and seizing their full, undivided attention as they are forced to gaze upon the flowers' dazzling colors until either an external force dragged them back to reality or enough hours passed for the magic to fade. It didn't help that I lacked the necessary stats to resist such a fate. Because of that, in ways, they were more dangerous than even the Mandrakes.

From where I crouched, I could've easily reached out and plucked a petal from one of their flowers, but that would've only set it off. It didn't take much for them to release their pollen once mature, but harvesting them early wasn't an option. Unless they were allowed to mature fully, their use as a reagent was little. They could only be harvested when they were at their most volatile, and that dictated both their danger and requirements.

With the rest of the plants I grew, I could apply as much Floral Accelerant as needed. With the Bewitching Petunias, however, things weren't so simple. Too much of it and the opening to harvest them would be too brief to act on, but too little meant unacceptable delays in production. Because of that, I always needed to measure the amount I gave them properly. That was a problem for once it came time to plant the next patch, though. As for now, I still needed to finish dealing with this one.

Carefully, as not to bump any part of the plant prematurely, I raised the opening of a large sack over a cluster of colorful, iridescent, and blossoming floral bells. It was awkward making sure no part of the bag touched them, the task requiring me to hold it upright with my teeth, but that was just the process. Once I was in position, though, all of that precision and preparation gave way to frantic speed.

In a single, fluid motion, I brought the bag down and clenched it shut. Simultaneously, inside the bag, the flowers burst out with their pollen in response to being touched. That was nerve-racking but okay. So long as I made no catastrophic mistakes, the pollen would remain safely within the enclosed space until it could be processed, at which point it would no longer matter.

With one hand remaining in place around the bag's opening, assuring it remained sealed, my other began to move. Quickly, falling into the practiced motion that had already become muscle memory to me, I raised a knife to the stems and severed them. It was a process the base of the plant would not survive, for it was too delicate, but it was necessary all the same, at least for now. In the future I wanted to improve on my methods, but for that, I needed more experience and to grow more accustomed to the things I was working with. Assuring multiple harvests was a problem for later, though.

With the first plant taken care of and bagged, I swiftly moved on to the next, a new bag in hand. That was another reason I needed to iterate on my harvesting methods. Each set of flowers requiring its own sack to collect when each only contained such a small amount of blooms was horribly inefficient, but for now, it was the safest and most reliable method.

Cover, seal, cut, and tie. Cover, seal, cut, and tie. I repeated the motions over and over again as I moved through the garden bed. It wasn't until every flower had been collected, safely stored away for later, that I moved on to the next step: uprooting what remained in the soil. That was the easy part. The petunias' danger only in their pollen, not the plants' bases. That allowed me to move much quickly and with nowhere near as much caution.

Clearing the area didn't take long, and once that was done, I began digging new holes where the flowers once sat. Next was sowing seeds, but this time, it wasn't Bewitching Petunias. No, it was Agila Formata.

I made sure to rotate what crop grew where whenever I could, not that I fully understood why that was. According to the mistress, it was something about keeping the soil healthy, and as much as I wished to be able to comprehend how that worked, I couldn't, and she unfortunately wasn't too sure about it herself, which was a shame, but regardless, that didn't matter for now. I'd figure it out eventually, but until then, I simply did as instructed, accommodating the garden however I could and assuring yet another variable remained just as I needed it. If nothing else, the results of her methods spoke for themselves.

With the bountiful harvest nowhere to be seen and new seeds in the ground, I moved on to watering the next set of ingredients before me and saturating the soil with a carefully measured amount of Floral Accelerant. While it wouldn't have hurt to use too much of the magical solution, not in the same way it would've had I done the same with the Bewitching Petunias, it still would've been an awful waste, and I couldn't have that, so I measured and poured. Like everything else around me, it was precise work. I controlled my variables, not the other way around.

Everything had its process. Dig, plant, cover, water, accelerant, blood if needed, maybe something else, harvest, and deliver. If I had time, I might help Sir Archibald with whatever alchemy that needing doing that was also simple enough for him to pass off to me, but that was only when I had the time. It was a monotonous routine that required a delicate touch and a watchful eye, but that was how I liked it.

That wasn't to say I didn't like experimenting and trying to figure out what new plants needed. In fact, I loved that, possibly even more than handling the plants I was already familiar with, but not everything needed to be exciting or glamorous. So long as I was surrounded by my plants, I was happy, and I would continue my routine up until something new was needed of me. I didn't expect that to be anytime soon, and again, that was okay, so mind already dedicated to my next simple task, I carefully gathered up the bags of magical flowers I'd set off to the side. Then, I nearly spilled and dropped them as words blared in my mind, “Hey, Rose, got a minute?”

For a brief moment, panic seized me. It took me a few long seconds realized what was going on, my hands tightened around the sacks all the while, making absolutely sure they remained sealed. I blinked a couple of times after that and took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. The sudden voice in my head had startled me, but had really scared me was how close I'd come to spilling the pollen. That would've been a horrible loss.

“Uh, Rose? You good?”

With another breath to steady myself, I responded, “Yes, I believe so, mistress. I do not intend to come off as rude, but when I am handling magical plants, could you please afford me the same consideration you do Sir Archibald when he is performing alchemy? A single mistake could be disastrous, and you suddenly speaking to my mind is startling.”

“Ah, um, yeah. Sure. Sorry?”

“It is fine. What was it you needed of me?”

“Right, I've got something new that might help with growing stuff, but I'm not sure yet, and I was wondering if you could help me run a few experiments.”

I froze upon hearing those words, all of me except for my tail, which, much to my embarrassment, began gently swishing back and forth in anticipation. It seemed my monotony would be getting broken up today after all, and as much as I loved it, that excited me to no end.

“If you're busy, we could do it later,” the mistress offered out of kindness, but to me it was as if she'd just threatened to take back a wonderful gift she'd promised me.

I practically jumped to respond, “No!”

There was a moment of silence; then I cleared my throat and continued, “That won't be necessary. If you would allow me just a moment to drop these ingredients off, I can assist you in whatever you might need. Would that be acceptable?”

“Yeah, that'd be perfect.”

To that, I gave a wide, toothy grin and hastily rushed to drop off the petunias. I wasn't sure yet what new goody she'd acquired, but whatever it was, if it could help plants grow, it had my full attention. I couldn't wait to see just what it was.