Black Mould - Sixteen - Faithless Prayers for Resolution

Black Mould - Sixteen - Faithless Prayers for Resolution

Black Mould - Sixteen - Faithless Prayers for Resolution

I cant believe it, my dad muttered. He was glaring at the wall and occasionally taking a sip from a bottle of beer.

I was pretty sure that he didnt need that for the pain. Not the physical pain, at least.

Mom was out to work. She had a shift that wouldnt finish for a few hours. She was talking of changing shifts, to take something that would mean that her shift and dads would overlap some more.

That meant that they were thinking of leaving me at home alone, but I was nearly four, and more than capable of taking care of myself. At least when compared to a normal child of my age.

I sat on my parents bed, mostly because it was the most comfortable spot in the house, so long as you arranged the lumps just right. I had a notebook next to me, a birthday gift from Mom. It had the logo of the Goldwin Paper Company stamped on every page in the centre, but I could write around that easily enough.

So, I had four types of mushrooms I was growing reliably, two of which I had magical variations of: brown chanterelle, horse head, dead mans fingers, and bug agaric. My entire collection of usable mushrooms.

Now came the fun part. I could combine them, graft them together to make something entirely new.

I wrote down a list of the possible combinations, going in roughly alphabetical order.

Brown chanterelle and bug agaric.

Brown chanterelle and dead mans fingers.

Brown chanterelle and horse head.

Bug agaric and dead mans fingers.

Bug agaric and horse head

Dead mans fingers and horse head.

Six entire combinations.

I crossed out brown chanterelle and horse head. Those two had given me the [Fungal Grafter] skill and were already growing along nicely in one of my racks back at the farm. I had high hopes for the combination.

That left five more mushroom strands to combine and hopefully get something good from. I had high hopes for a couple of the possibilities, less so for others.

Not for the first time, I wished I had access to the internet and the wealth of knowledge on there. So many sites, so many databases so many distractions.

I cant believe it, Dad said, with a lot more emphasis this time.

Is it bad? I asked as I picked up my needles and started to knit mycelium strands together. Id stuff the completed ones between the pages of my notebook so that theyd stay dry until tomorrow.

Dad sighed. Its not great, my little mushroom, its not great.

Larry, right? I asked. Hed mentioned it a few times. I think he didnt want to talk about it, but he also really needed to rant.

They fired him, he said. Didnt even just give him a slip either. Couple of busters came in and beat him black and blue, right there at the factory gate.

Oh! That was handy. Kind of unexpected too. [Druid Sight] was taking forever to level. I guess I wasnt using it often enough.

[Congratulations! Your [Druid Sight {Uncommon}] Skill has unlocked the [Druids Sense] Subskill!]

Sense? That wasnt related to sight at all. I thought that skills would gain subskills tightly related to their main skill-ness.

[Druid Sense]

You have gained a heightened sense of an areas attunement, or lack of attunement, to nature.

Hmm. Attunement? That actually gave me an idea. I was a cleric, wasnt I? I was able to do the whole naming thing. What about other abilities related to that? Could I make an area be more attuned towards nature stuff? Could I bless a space?

This had to be tested.

I picked everything up, made sure all my samples were in order, then ran over to my dad to give him a quick hug. Im heading out, I said.

Where are you going?

To my farm! Ive got to test something. For science and nature or something.

I ran out before he could protest, then ran even harder, sprinting across the slums we lived in on a path to my farm.

The whole attunement thing was pretty obvious the moment I was outside. The world around me felt wrong. It was like an itch under my skin that I couldnt get rid of.

I waved to Debra as I darted by, then unlocked and slipped into my farm. I tossed my notepad onto my worktable, then took in a deep breath.

Right Now, how does one bless a place?

Maybe Id been a little hasty, acting without much of a plan at all.

I stepped back out. Hey, Debra, I asked. Did you ever see a, uh, blessing?

Debra blinked. Like a naming-day ceremony blessing?

Yeah, sure, I said. What do the clerics do?

Usually just lots of chanting and begging and all that kind of stuff. Whyre you asking?

I nodded and stepped back. Thanks, Debra, I owe you one.

Shutting the door, I turned back to my farm.

Just chanting and begging, huh? I could manage that. Though I wasnt about to chant nor was I about to beg.

Maybe Feronie was a nice goddess who possibly wanted me to murder everyone, and she would appreciate a nice, civil bit of prayer?

***