TravelingDreamer
patreon
B6—Chapter 62: House of a Thousand Headaches
🕑 Added 2025-07-30 17:09:25 +0000 UTCHey everyone!
Tomorrow’s chapter is arriving a day early. I’ve got another D&D tournament at my place tomorrow. This time it’s only nine guests instead of fourteen, so technically that’s progress… but I still don’t think I’ll get any writing done.
Summer vacation, they said. It’ll be relaxing, they said.
Sigh.
Enjoy the early chapter!
>>>>>>
The work to finish the second story of Al’s house was surprisingly easy. We didn’t encounter any further issues like we had with the glass. When we went on that crazy shopping spree on Earth to burn through all the gambling and drug money, we bought toilets, baths, showers, and all the rest. So even that part was covered. Two days, and it was done.
Then we moved on to the three main issues that were still hanging over our heads, each with its own set of problems. The first was the house’s water tank. Mahya and I had thoroughly studied the blueprint and built the tank even before we built the first floor, as it was located at the bottom. We did everything right, or so we thought. The blueprint was solid. The implementation was solid. The issue was the material.
We built the whole thing out of wood, followed the blueprint exactly, and were sure it had turned out perfectly. It hadn’t. Al filled it partially with water, using my house’s hose to draw water from the lake, first to mine and then to his.
Smart move.
Why?
Because less than ten minutes in, his house started dripping.
The three of us stood around the water blueprint, staring at it.
“We did everything right,” Mahya said, arms crossed.
I gave a small nod and hummed in agreement, eyes still scanning the lines for a clue we might’ve missed.
Al leaned in to take a closer look. “Are you certain?”
“Positive,” Mahya said.
“One hundred percent,” I added, tapping the edge of the page with a fingertip.
We kept staring at the blueprint in silence, hoping it would yield an answer.
It didn’t.
Mahya let out a long, frustrated sigh. “We need to inspect yours.”
I echoed her with a sympathetic sigh of my own.
I told the core to drain the water from my house and open up the lower section. A few planks in the living room floor shifted aside, revealing the top of the tank. I cast a Light Ball and dropped it in, then climbed down with Mahya.
The space was cramped, maybe sixty or seventy centimeters high, so we had to crawl. She summoned her own Light Ball, and we slowly made our way along the narrow space, inspecting the walls.
The tank was definitely made of wood. Wet, but not leaking.
“Maybe he used something as an insulator?” Mahya suggested, trailing her fingers across one of the inner panels.
“Didn’t you see what he did?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. That was the first part he worked on. While he built it, I was still processing the trees from Tuonela.”
I asked the core to shift a few of the planks, and sure enough, Mahya was right. Behind them were thin sheets of rubber—something that, I might add, was not on the blueprint.
Mahya huffed. I just asked the core to move a few more planks closer to the floor.
We peeled back the rubber carefully, and underneath was another layer of wooden planks.
“Same enchantments like the inner layer,” Mahya said, running her finger over a rune.
I rubbed my face in frustration. We should’ve figured this out before building the rest of the house. The rubber itself wasn’t the issue. My core had eaten plenty of it on Earth and even more from that glorious junkyard next to the Gate to Lumis. Getting new sheets wasn’t going to be a problem.
The real nightmare was building a second layer inside that already tight space. You had to crawl the entire time, hunched over with barely enough room to shift your weight. We managed, but what had taken a day originally dragged out to three. Mahya cursed nonstop, inventing new combinations to keep it interesting, and we kept smacking our heads every time we so much as moved wrong. By the end of it, we each had a nice collection of lumps and a firm decision to avoid tight spaces for the foreseeable future.
The next problem was the pontoons. There was no blueprint to enchant them. We tried anyway and quickly figured out why there was no blueprint. Turns out, mana didn’t consider rubber a natural material, so the moment we finished drawing the rune, it burned right through. Mahya gave up after the second try, tossing her engraver aside with a muttered curse. I was more stubborn and kept going until I’d ruined five. In the end, I was left holding a piece of rubber with five identical, perfectly round holes. We reviewed all the blueprints and his written instructions again, looking for the information on how he did it, but didn’t find anything. Al had to give up the option to float his house on water.
That evening, I opened the Archive and wrote Lis a message, grumbling about the whole thing.
That left the last and most complicated issue. The spell room. It had three separate blueprints. One was labeled Mana Regeneration and showed a complex lattice of crystals, runes, and connection lines covering the entire room—not just the walls, but the floor and ceiling too. The full enchantment created an isolated space that drew mana from the core and released it into the room without allowing any of it to escape.
The second blueprint was titled Dead Zone. It was also a complex lattice of crystals and runes, but it did the exact opposite. It sucked all the mana out of the room and didn’t let any in.
The third was called Practice Room and had the most complicated lattice of them all, with double the amount of crystals and runes. Its purpose was to absorb all released mana and redirect it to the core, keeping it from damaging the room.
Mahya was familiar with all three lattices. It was her skill that embedded the crystals into the wood, and she helped engrave the original. When she and Lis worked on it, they did it differently from the rest of the house. Instead of using pre-engraved planks, they built the room first and then enchanted it. We followed the same approach, and that’s where the trouble started.
No matter what we tried, the lines of the three lattices crossed. They either canceled each other out or burned through one another. We stopped engraving and switched to chalk, trying to draw the three enchantments in a way that kept them from overlapping, but it was impossible. The designs were too tight and had too much detail.
We inspected my spell room again and again, but couldn’t figure out how it was done. The three lattices were all there, complete with crystals and crisscrossing lines, and somehow the whole thing worked without any interference. When we tried to replicate it, it just didn’t.
“How did you manage it with my house?” I asked, squinting at the overlapping chalk lines. “You worked on it, so how did it work then?”
Mahya let out a slow breath and sat back on her heels, wiping her hands on her pants. “I honestly have no idea how he pulled it off.”
She reached for a piece of chalk and absently twirled it between her fingers. “Back then, he told me exactly where to embed each crystal, which rune to engrave, and where to put everything. Some parts he didn’t let me touch at all, he handled them himself.”
She absently followed a chalk line on the floor, erasing it. “At the time, I was just starting to learn about runic design. I didn’t understand half of what we were doing. And this stuff isn’t really engineering or logical, step-by-step work. It’s more like building three different puzzles and layering them so they don’t interfere with each other.”
She paused and looked over at me. “I asked him a lot of questions, but they were more about how to create rune meshes and link them, not the bigger picture. I didn’t even realize we were working on three separate enchantments at once. I thought it was just one massive system. It never occurred to me that one day I’d have to figure out how to stack them.”
After five days, we had to admit defeat. There was no way to do it with our current knowledge.
Al studied the three options laid out in front of him, arms folded behind his back, eyes narrowing in concentration. He tilted his head one way, then the other, before finally speaking. “I believe the mana regeneration setup is the most suitable choice. I have no particular need for the dead zone, as I do not possess electronics I intend to operate, unlike yourself. As for the practice room, I can manage without it. I typically reserve the use of my mage spells for dungeon environments.”
Mahya stiffened beside me. Her fists clenched at her sides, and I could practically see sparks flying from her eyes. “What?!” she screeched. “Couldn’t you have said that before we spent days wrestling with this mess?”
Al took a step back, startled. His eyes widened, and he stiffened. Honestly, I couldn’t blame him. I’d never heard that tone from her before, either.
“I simply wished to have a spell room similar to John's,” he said quickly, hands raised. “But if that is no longer a viable option, then I am merely expressing my preference. Had I known it would prove this troublesome, I would never have made the request.”
Mahya’s whole body trembled, her hands opening and closing. I could feel the waves of fury coming from her. Al’s neck was in serious danger. I stepped in and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “Easy now. Breathe. Don’t murder Al. It’s not his fault we can’t figure it out. Just breathe.”
She yanked her shoulder away and stormed off, her entire body still shaking with rage.
Al and I exchanged a glance.
“She urgently needs to find a water stone. We cannot continue like this,” he said, voice low. “At times, I am genuinely afraid to speak.”
I rubbed my face with both hands, completely lost on how to handle it. I understood how fire could make you more intense, but that was taking it too far. Way too far.
That evening, when she came back, I pulled her aside for a talk. We sat at the breakfast bar, facing each other across the counter.
I leaned in, resting my elbows on the surface, and kept my voice as calm as I could. I didn’t want it to sound like I was nagging. “You have to work harder to keep your outbursts under control.”
Mahya exhaled sharply. “It’s not as easy as you think.”
“I know. Remember, I had the same problem. But I clamped down on the anger and the other explosive effects and managed just fine. Al doesn’t even act like he has a fire affinity. So you can too.”
“It’s not the same,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Yes it is.”
“No, it’s not.” She pointed a finger at me. “I mean, you're so laid back, you practically ooze off the furniture. And Al is an uptight tampon.”
I glared at her.
She waved dismissively. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t mean it in a bad way. I’m exaggerating for emphasis. The point is, neither of you had that much trouble. I do. I’ve always been quick-tempered. Half the stuff that drove me mad even before the stone, you wouldn’t have even noticed. And I think it’s worse because I actually use the affinity. I didn’t see you use it much, but I do. All the time. And the more I use it, the harder it gets to hold my temper.”
“You use it?” I asked. That was unexpected.
“All the time. When I work with metal.”
“How?”
“I use it to control the heat of the forge. I can raise the temperature faster or fine-tune it depending on the type of metal I'm working with. I also use it to pull heat out of the metal, quickly or slowly, depending on what I need at the moment. And if a piece doesn’t come out right, I don’t always remelt the whole thing. Sometimes I just heat the exact part I want to reshape—just enough to make it moldable again without starting over.”
She tapped her fingers lightly on the counter. “I can also sense heat distribution inside the piece. Like, I can feel if one side is hotter than the other or if a section is cooling too fast. That helps prevent warping. And if I'm working with layered metals, I can soften one layer at a time, which gives me a lot more control over how they bond.”
“What’s the level of your fire affinity?” I asked, curious now.
She shrugged. “My personal information is in my native language. I don’t have a word for it in English.”
“But what’s the number?”
Mahya glanced up, silently counting on her fingers. “Fourth.”
I mirrored the motion, counting in my head. Novice, Apprentice, Junior, Medior.
“You’re a Medior,” I said.
She wrinkled her nose. “What a strange word.”
“Yeah, I think the system had some issues in the translation department with that one.”
A faint pulse of disapproval reached me. It was so light, it felt more like the system was keeping up appearances rather than genuinely meaning it.
Settle down, I thought back. I’m not the only one who thinks you picked a weird gradation.
This time, there was no response.
“Why do you look upset?” Mahya asked, narrowing her eyes at me.
I groaned and let my forehead drop to the cool surface of the bar. “Because I’m supposed to be the elemental wizard, and I’m still a novice in fire. First level.”
“Yeah, I know what a novice is."
I let out a long, dramatic harrumph.
She laughed.
I lifted my head just enough to glare at her. “What?”
“You sounded like a grumpy wizard just now. Don’t lose hope—you clearly have it in you.”
I stuck my tongue out at her.
She grinned and stuck hers right back.
With a sigh, I slumped back down and oozed onto the counter. She gave my shoulder a conciliatory pat.
After about a minute, my head jerked up. “Wait. We were talking about your temper, not my lack of wizarding progress.”
Mahya let out a groan and now she lightly bumped her forehead against the counter. Once. Twice. Then she left it there, speaking to the floor. “I know. I’ll apologize to Al. I have an idea that might actually work.”
“What?”
“I’ll ask him to make me a calming potion. Something to help me keep my temper in check.”
I blinked. “Oh. That’s actually a good idea. Just make sure it doesn’t have drugs in it.”
She lifted her head and gave me a look. “Even if it does, it’s not a problem.”
“Yes it is. You might get addicted."
She stared at me like I’d just declared the moon was pink. “With my traits? And the strength of the stuff he makes? Seriously?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know anything about alchemy. Just be careful.”
She patted my shoulder again. “Yes, Dad, don’t worry.”
I stuck my tongue out at her. Again.
That evening, I opened the Archive again and sent Lis another message, grumbling about the latest problem.
It took us another two days to finish the spell room. Well, technically, it was now the regeneration room, but whatever.
Al inspected the house from top to bottom, occasionally pausing to trace one thing or another. When he was done, he nodded with approval and thanked us profusely. He even drew the magic circle for the core connection himself. I had to make only two small tweaks. Honestly, he was coming along nicely in the runic department, despite his uncanny talent for escaping the need to engrave anything about ninety percent of the time.
After the ritual, he expanded his Storage twice to actually fit the house. Later, he found me alone in the kitchen. He hovered near the fridge, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, arms crossed and then uncrossed, as if he couldn’t quite figure out what to do with them. His gaze drifted to the floor, then to the ceiling, then briefly to me before darting away again.
I raised an eyebrow and leaned against the counter. "Yes?..."
He cleared his throat. “Would it be acceptable if I were to continue residing and working in your house while we travel together?”
“I thought that was the plan all along.”
His shoulders eased, and some of the tension left his face. “Thank you. That is a great relief.”
Al did make Mahya a potion that she had to drink every morning. Judging by her expression when she drank it, the taste was shit. That got my spidey senses tingling. All of Al’s potions either tasted like herbs or like a sweet syrup.
I caught him alone in the kitchen, rummaging through a cabinet. According to him, he was definitely not looking for cookies. “Did you make the potion disgusting on purpose?” I asked.
He looked away, pretending to examine the tea canister.
Ha-ha! I knew it!
“You know that if she finds out, she would kill you, right?”
He waved me off. “Every action has a reaction. She has only herself to blame.”
I shrugged. It was his life, and his choice to put it in danger.
We were done with our open projects, took three days to rest, and then it was time to move on.
During dinner on our last day at the lake, Al put down his fork and said, “I have been thinking.”
“Dangerous,” Mahya said.
He glared at her. Yeah, they still needed to clear some things between them.
“Go on,” I said, spearing another bite.
“Now that the war is over, it is quite possible the teleporter in Saa is functioning again. I believe we should return and confirm it.”
“That’s actually a good idea,” I said.
“Yeah,” Mahya added. “Maybe you two can fly there instead of us sailing for days. It will be faster.”
“What about you?” I asked, turning to her.
“I’ll stay in the house. We checked it in Sanctuary, and it worked like a charm.”
Al straightened in his seat. “I wish to travel inside the house as well.”
“Rue also in house,” Rue informed us from his beanbag.
Apparently, I was traveling with a bunch of lazy slackers.
The following morning, Mahya stored her boat. They went back to the house, and I told the core to close and arrange and backpack around itself, then put it on my back. With the size of the core now—over fifty centimeters—I looked like a snail carrying his house on his back.
I turned invisible and flew to Saa. It was time to leave this world.
Comments
TravelingDreamer
LOL
Obran
Rue doesn't get a dog house?
