Morning light bled softly through the cracks in Audree's curtains, dimmed by the forge smoke that never quite left the Embershade sky. The house creaked faintly as the warm scent of something herbal—tea, probably—drifted in under the door.
Then came the knock.
Tap tap tap.
"Sleeping in isn't like you," Nora's voice called gently through the door. "Everything okay in there?"
Audree groaned, rolling over and burying his face into the pillow.
"Ah—oh, sorry," he mumbled, voice muffled and thick with sleep. "Yesterday was... a busy day."
A yawn cracked out of him, loud and sharp.
"I'm up though," he added.
There was a pause.
"Alright," Nora said with a chuckle in her voice. "Just be warned—Ina's in a bit of a mood this morning. I'll let you ask about it."
Her footsteps faded down the hall, and Audree blinked slowly at the ceiling.
"Ina? Annoyed?" he murmured. "What happened?"
He stretched, throwing off the blanket, and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
Then he saw it.
Slime.
Glittering trails of it, smeared across the wooden floor like snail art on a sugar rush. It zigzagged wildly—up the walls, across his desk, into corners, around shelves. It traced to nearly every mana-charged item in the room.
And several of those items were...
Gone.
Mana crystals? Drained.
A minor binding ring? Empty.
That infused herb sprig he'd been saving? Shriveled.
In the far corner of the room, nestled comfortably atop his spell notes like a smug little monarch, sat the slime. No longer the tiny marble he'd brought home.
It was fist-sized now, its body plumper, its glow warmer and brighter. If slimes could smile, this one was doing it—full, content, and possibly even proud of itself.
Audree stared.
The slime gave a soft plorp, rippling gently as it shifted.
"...I should've seen this coming," Audree muttered, fidgeting with his bracelet.
He knelt down, scanning the damage. It wasn't catastrophic—but it was a mess. And knowing Ina, she'd probably noticed something was wrong with the mana flow in the house before her first cup of tea.
And now?
Now he was the reason for her sour mood.
"Well," he sighed, looking at the slime again, "you better have learned something from this little midnight buffet."
The slime blinked slowly. A single pseudopod wiggled lazily in reply.
Audree exhaled, rubbed his face, then reached for a cloth to start wiping up the slime trail.
"Okay," he muttered. "Step one: Damage control. Step two: Survive my mothers. Step three: Teach you some home training.
After spending a good half-hour wiping slime trails off his notes and quietly mourning the loss of several mana-charged trinkets, Audree finally emerged from his room. The faint scent of food hit him first—eggs, something toasted, and that oddly sharp herbal tea Ina swore by.
Then he saw them.
Both mothers were already seated at the table. Nora, ever radiant with morning cheer, gave him a smile like nothing in the world was wrong. Ina, meanwhile, had her arms crossed, a sharp brow raised, and an expression like she was preparing for battle.
Breakfast was ready.
Which meant only one thing.
This wasn't a normal morning.
They never ate together unless something had happened—usually something he had done. Either that, or bad news was about to hit like a mana surge to the chest.
Audree instinctively glanced at the front door. The library sounded very safe right now. But he knew better. There was no escaping this once the food hit the table.
So, he sat down quietly, eyeing his eggs and beginning to poke at them with his fork like they might offer an escape route.
Ina didn't wait long.
"So," she said, tone sharp enough to cleave stone, "it seems like you brought home a friend."
Of course it was about that.
Audree hesitated. Thought about lying. Decided against it.
"Uhh, you see what happened was—"
"Don't," Ina said flatly, cutting him off with a raised hand. "Really, Audree? A pet? You know we can't afford one of those."
From across the table, Nora giggled softly. "A hungry one at that."
Ina shot her a sideways glare before continuing. "That slime ate through nearly our entire weekly mana stock."
Audree winced, guilt instantly setting in.
"I—look, I was at Merrin's yesterday and saw it. It looked like it was on its last legs. I thought maybe I could—"
"We already have one financial burden," Ina said, gesturing vaguely at the house. "We can't take in every sick or dying creature you see on the street. Does this place look like a zoo?"
Audree opened his mouth to respond.
"Don't answer that," Ina added quickly.
He looked around anyway. The house was, in fact, a bit of a mess—scattered scrolls, brewing supplies, old potion bottles stacked in corners. It definitely had "alchemical animal sanctuary" vibes.
But before the tension could boil over, Nora chimed in.
"I think it's a good thing," she said, still smiling. "That Audree wanted to help something in need. We all make mistakes. We learn from them."
She turned to her son with an arched brow and a pointed look. "And I'm sure this won't happen again... right?"
Audree gave a sheepish nod, pushing his eggs around the plate. "Right. Very sorry about the potion stock. I'll take better care of... the guy."
Ina groaned and stood, already gathering her tea cup. "We'll talk more later. And keep that thing out of my brewery, Audree."
"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled.
As Ina walked off toward her workshop, muttering something under her breath about "mana-devouring blobs," Nora leaned in and whispered, "She'll come around."
Audree smiled faintly.
He really hoped so.
As he finally got a few bites of breakfast down, a thought struck Audree like a bolt from the blue.
"The books."
He froze mid-chew, eyes going wide.
He still hadn't returned the library books.
Without a word, he bolted up from the table, nearly tipping his chair over in the process.
"Back in a sec!" he called, already halfway down the hall.
In his room, Audree darted toward his desk, scanning the surface—then spotted the stack of borrowed books, now slightly damp and covered in—
"Slime," he muttered, rubbing his temple.
The top book had a shimmering blue smear down the spine and what looked suspiciously like a little happy face drawn in goo.
Audree slowly turned his head.
In the corner, the Vaponea slime wobbled with obvious pride, glowing faintly brighter and pulsing in what could only be described as smug glee.
He stared at it. "Seriously?"
The slime quivered again, its "eyes" blinking with innocent joy.
Audree sighed, pulling a cloth from a drawer to gently dab the cover of the book. "You better hope Haldo's in a good mood today."
Once the damage was mitigated, he slipped the books—slimed one on top—into his satchel. The slime itself he scooped into its jar, securing the lid and giving it a pointed look.
"No mana-charged snacks while I'm not looking, got it?"
The slime gave a single plorp.
He wasn't sure what that meant.
"Good enough."
He returned to the main room, where Nora was watering the odd glowing plant in the window and Ina was muttering over her tea, still too annoyed to make eye contact.
Audree slung his satchel over his shoulder.
"Heading to the library. I'll be back before lunch."
"Don't let Haldo give you any of that grumpy-mentor sass," Nora said with a wink.
"Tell him I said he owes me an un-broken rune stone," Ina added sharply, without looking up.
Audree blinked. "I—what? Why?"
"Just tell him," Ina said, waving a hand.
He opened the door, stepping out into the hazy morning. Just before he closed it behind him, he called out, "Bye!"
"Stay out of trouble!" Nora called.
"Keep your goopy thing away from my shelves!" Ina followed.
And with that, Audree was off—books, slime, and all.