Bastion 2 - Chapter 24

Sung-ki placed the tray on Hana’s desk then returned to the storeroom for his trusty wheeled cart loaded with similar trays. He moved through the class, placing trays on each student’s desk as he said, “Step one will be to identify all your extracts. Write them down and label your vials. You will be graded on this.

“Step two is to identify what mixture you want to make, for what purpose, and what you think the outcome or side-effects will be. You will be graded on your accuracy, as well as your daring. Mixing only two extracts will result in a lower grade than mixing all seven.”

Murmurs of disbelief sprouted around the room. Sung-ki smirked and said, “Yes, all seven can be mixed successfully.”

“What will we get for mixing all seven?” Tae-do blurted.

Sung-ki’s gaze narrowed on him. “Well, if you don’t melt the skin off your face, create noxious fumes, or blow up, you’ll pass my class today with the highest grade I can give. Good luck,” he said as he set the tray on Tae-do’s table.

The students around him chuckled, but were cut short when Sung-ki went on, “This is no laughing matter. The dangers of a malicious mix are real. You could do serious harm to yourself or others. If you don’t know what you’re doing”—he looked at me with a stern glare as he set my tray down—“don’t do it.”

He wasn’t cruel in the way he said it, but he was serious. He wanted us to be aware of the power we held in our hands, and not to abuse or misuse it. I took his warning to heart, preparing for a failing grade from ineptitude.

“Yes, Master,” I said as I dipped my head.

The students around me quieted, their faces taking on pained expressions of worry, or genuine fear. The risk of serious harm was real. I took a deep breath, and started step one: identifying my vials.

“I can help, if you want,” Mae offered.

‘I’m not going to cheat my way through school. You know this.’

Mae sighed. “Okay. I just really don’t want to blow up.”

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’ I thought as I furrowed my brow.

It wasn’t as hard to identify the extracts as I thought. We’d seen all of them before, in fact, I think we had been the ones to create them some weeks ago. They were refined from when we’d pulled the extracts, but they were still our own work. There was sayuki basil, maggot-rot mold, purila’s tail, lychii seed, yellow juniper, poh-pah berry, and witch-weed.

We had never mixed more than three extracts at a time in class. Given that my li was still below average, I searched my memory for the most complex mixture I knew was at my skill level, or just a little above. I didn’t want to blow up, but I didn’t want to look like I hadn’t been paying attention.

Okay. I could do this. I knew from a week ago that mixing maggot-rot mold, then witch-weed, and yellow juniper would result in a fragrant salve used in aiding regeneration—for external use only. It was a safe bet, but I knew what I was doing, so I went for it.

Within a few minutes, I had successfully mixed the three together in my spare vial, creating the strong scented, deep purple goop. Sung-ki came to appraise my work. He hummed as he assessed the mixture, and then my documentation.

“Not very daring, but you did know what you were doing and did it well. I’m impressed with your growth, Mr. Law.” He scrawled his finger across my page with a burst of silvery ry munje, leaving behind a “4/5” at the top.

With nothing else to do for the rest of class, I watched the other students, especially Cho. I couldn’t see his table well from here, but he was moving both arms furiously with minty-colored li munje zipping off into the space around him at every gesture. He tipped another vial and swirled the receiving one gently, then went on to the next.

He was going for all seven.

I swallowed hard. ‘Is he doing it right?’

Mae’s cartoonish face appeared in my vision as she shrugged. “I don’t know…”

When all the other students had finished, Cho was still working away. Sung-ki had ordered us to move our desks back—just a precaution—and watch him work. The master had an approving smile on his lips as Cho held the last vial in his trembling right hand. This was it. Would he explode, or create a knock-out gas?

He tilted the vial at the rim of the concoction ever so gently until a tiny drop slipped in. He pressed his thumb firmly over the mixture vial and shook his hand violently, his eyes pressed together tightly in fear. When nothing happened, he uncovered the vial.

White mist slipped from the glass and blanketed the table, then the floor, spreading in every direction like slow moving milk.

Sung-ki clapped and I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Well done Mr. Pak. He has created Creeping Mist. It is used in larger quantities to artificially decrease visibility on the battlefield. With a little tree-cover, this potion is exceptional for subterfuge and sneak attacks.”

I whooped and clapped my hands, getting the whole class—save for a few—in raucous applause. Cho grinned and shoulders fell away from his ears. He sat back in his chair—only to realize there was no back. I leapt forward to catch him but it was too late. He fell from the stool, spilling the white liquid across his uniform.

Tae-do was the first to laugh, followed again by the rest of the class. “All that li, so little zo.”

I gritted my teeth and helped Cho up. Sung-ki passed me a rag but before I could help him clean off, Cho ripped the cloth from my hand with a pained scowl. His eyes were red and glossy, and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Yuri and Hana moved in to obscure him from view as he wiped himself off.

“Enough,” Sung-ki called and the students quieted. “Leave your creations at your desk. I will grade them in due time. Everyone is dismissed except Mr. Pak.” The students around us dispersed slowly, grabbing their things and heading for the exit though class still had some fifteen minutes left.

I put a hand on Cho’s shoulder and he looked up to me. “You’re a legend. You don’t even have to try for the rest of the year!” I said, then knocked my chest twice and held out my knuckles to him.

He pursed his lips, looking down at the stain on his dobok, then returned the gesture with a smirk. “It was pretty cool, huh?”

“It was the coolest thing I’ve everseen,” Yuri stressed the word as she patted his back. Cho brightened considerably. Yuri didn’t often lie, and so her comment was more reassuring than mine.

We moved toward the exit as Cho approached Sung-ki near the storeroom. Hana led the way out to the hall, but stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Tae-do, arms crossed and glowering down at her. The heat in my chest drove me forward and I stepped up, putting myself between Tae-do and my friends.

“Oh Soo-boi!” Tae-do called with a smirk and Shin-soo stepped around to the front. “We have a few extra minutes until class. Challenge Hana to a duel.”

Shin-soo looked between me and Hana. “But you were saving my duel—

“Challenge her!” Tae-do bellowed. He grabbed Shin-soo’s dobok and shoved him into me.

Shin-soo’s forehead was creased in panic, his eyes wide with fear. He smoothed over the expression and cleared his throat as he stepped back, then squared his shoulders. He looked at Hana. “Duel me.”

“Gladly,” Hana replied with a growl.

There was nothing I could do but watch. Two of the students in the growing ring of observers darted off to find instructors, and within a minute, Sung-ki and a young female instructor I didn’t recognize were among us.

“What are your selections?” Sung-ki asked in a bored tone.

“Zo,” Hana said as she rolled up her sleeves.

Shin-soo was holding it together but I could tell by the creases in his forehead he was worried. I wasn’t sure if it was because Hana was going to pummel the munje out of him, or for some other reason. He’d never want to hurt Hana, as far as I could see. His hate had always been for me… and this was still about me.

Tae-do wanted me to watch—helpless—as Hana had to fight. He knew I could beat Shin-soo—he saw me do it last year—but maybe he thought Shin-soo would be desperate enough for ranks to actually give a fight against Hana his all.

I’d seen the rank board recently. He’d been fighting Shin-soo against Ko-nah, and Shin-soo’s record reflected the thrown challenges. He’d gone from low one-hundreds to one-ninety in just a few weeks. Shin-soo didn’t want to hurt Hana, but if he wanted to keep his head above water, he’d have to.

Tae-do was torturing both of us at the same time.

“Ry,” Shin-soo declared and I furrowed my brow. I knew that was not one of his best munjes. It seemed he would throw the duel against her after all.

“And the third?” Sung-ki asked.

The crowd shouted options, but I could only watch. What was he thinking?

“En it is,” the young female instructor in red robes said. “Hana, you’re the challenged, your choice.”

Shin-soo swallowed hard, then subtly pointed a thumb at himself.

Hana squinted, then her gaze shifted to me. I nodded toward Shin-soo.

Hana squared her shoulder and declared, “Ry first. Shin-soo.”

I didn’t know what he was playing at, but I hopped Hana could find out.