31 Brown or Black
“You think this is gonna work on him?” Juste asked Maxill, thinking if they would be able to be successful in their plan.
“Trust me, I’ve memorized the whole guide.”
Juste was quite surprised at what his bloodhunt friend just said. His eyes widened and his eyebrows raised up. “Woah, you did?”
“Yes. And I bet on my 75 years of life that it’ll work on him.”
“What the-you’re 75 years old?!”
Maxill added, “And forget about what Scion said. He’s just toying with your head.”
He also bothered to comment on Juste’s astonishment regarding his age, “look at me, Juste. For us bloodhunts, age is just a number. I could pass as a teenager just like you. Heck, I’m even young by vampire standards.”
“Ugh, well, I just thought you’re around 40 years old, heh.” Juste’s nose showed wrinkles and lines as he smiled in an awkward way out of disbelief and amusement.
Maxill couldn’t help but wonder, “…are you flattering me, or insulting me?”
“Don’t worry, it’s a compliment.” Juste snickered at what he just said.
The bloodhunt was tempted to look into the fellhound’s mind. He stared at Juste’s eyes and started to read inside Juste’s brain.
Surprisingly odd, Maxill couldn’t find any thought lingering inside his friend’s mind.
“Strange. Either that, or you’re not thinking about anything at all.”
“Your mindread won’t work on me, Maxill. I happen to mostly rely on my gut feeling rather than my intellect. I act out of my inner nature. I don’t think that much.”
‘F*ck, I thought my mindread was invincible.’ Maxill thought to himself.Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.
“Heh, that actually explains a lot,” the bloodhunt told Juste. “I thought you’re just an airhead whenever I try to look inside that skull of yours.”
“What the h*ll?! Hey, when was that-”
Maxill cut Juste’s sentence to further discuss about the more important matter at hand, “Anyways, we need to make the Remedium work. The purpose did change, but the aim is the same.”
Juste couldn’t believe that all he ever needed was Maxill to open his eyes to the opportunity he has. Their new plan had a very long shot, but he wanted to try and shove his luck to make it happen.
“Just don’t cop out on me, Maxill. I can’t pull this off without you.”
“Heck, Maximillian Vikander doesn’t know a thing about abandoning his friends.”
Juste opened his palm, placed it near his face, spat out a drool on it, and offered it to Maxill.
“Seal your promise.”
Maxill was outrightly disgusted at Juste’s form of pact. It was quite evident in his facial expression, his eyes winced and turned to slits and his lips gaped and stretched with the tips curled downwards.
“What’s wrong?” Juste asked.
“Err, I prefer blood pacts, fellhound.”
“Fine, we’ll do it in two kinds of pacts.”
Maxill had no choice but to respect Juste’s form of sealing the promise.
He then readied his contract with Juste that was sealed with both of their bloods.
After their rituals of sealing their promises, Juste couldn’t wait to tell Chastine about their plan.
“Great. Now we just have to tell Chastine everything about this.”
But Maxill had other things in mind. “Ah, no. Bad idea.”
“Why?” Juste immediately dropped the big question.
“Being a witborn, she’s quite vulnerable. Our plan must be kept from everyone else. We will tell her, but do not blurt out the specifics. It’s for her own good. Got it?”
Juste got Maxill’s point. He nodded in agreement.
As they about to head back into the lab room, Chastine banged the door open to the balcony.
“Guys! Ah, thank God I’ve found you.” She was panting like crazy while she was speaking to the two guys.
“What’s the matter, Chas?”
“You need to see the reaction!” Chastine’s face was beaming with delight. What was once gloomy and dull in the beautiful witborn’s face turned back into a lively and cheerful look.
“Lady luck must be smiling upon us.”
“Damn right, Juste. Damn right.”
—
The trio was back at the lab room.
Chastine buried the tip of the forceps into the sand bath, and within a short while she pinched something and lifted it, revealing the fuzzy stem of the northern thorny wolfbane.
“See, guys? Hurray!” Chastine’s eyes couldn’t even get any cuter as her pair was more rounder and they were shimmering. This was evidence that Chastine was glad from the inside.
“Brown. Brown indeed, haha!” Juste’s eyes and mouth opened wide in delight.
Maxill, on the other hand, smirked with joy. “Now let’s get on with the next ingredient.”
Chastine then suddenly remembered that the book was burned. Her joyful face went immediately sad again.
Maxill then reminded his best friend of his extraordinary ability. “Relax, Chas. I got it all in here.” He tapped his temple with his forefinger.
“Really?”
“Yes. And I just told Juste about it a while ago. Now, for the next ingredient…”
Maxill closed his eyes and mentally envisioned the look and shape of the diary of Juste’s mother. He then imagined it to flip through the mental pages to look into its contents.
Lo and behold, Maxill had quite an accurate depiction of the diary. He recited the poem to Juste and Chastine, all from memory:
“root of red, drool of flesh, tall as pillar
stem of brown, crown of thorns, revealed on pyre
leaf of green, thick of water, at one’s behest
petal of white, rise of giants, at peaceful rest
seed of black, depths of earth, one in all.”
Maxill slowly opened his eyes. He saw Juste and Chastine’s face, who were both amazed and fascinated at Maxill’s recitation of Juste’s mom’s poem.
The bloodhunt quickly flicked his finger so the two would break free from their mesmerizing spell.
Not that Maxill had casted them such magic, but it was from his ethereal and soothing aura that his friends suddenly gazed at him with such wonder and attention.
“Hey!” Maxill was flicking his fingers.
“Amazing, Max.” Chastine clapped her hands, as if Maxill had performed in front of a theater and would take home the winning prize for his performance.
Juste thought that Maxill gave justice to her mother’s work. He had forgotten the pain from seeing the book burning in front of him.
“Thanks, Maxill. My mother would be proud.”
“Welcome. Now, to business: leaf of green, what could it mean?”
Chastine retorted to his question, “I think it’s the easiest one, Maxill. It looks like the recipe is calling for a succulent plant.”
“At one’s behest?”
“It’s probably its distinction among the other succulents out there. Let’s consult the codex for it.”
Maxill pulled out the codex from his breast pocket. He was the one carrying it so it wasn’t burned by the army commander.
He flipped through the pages and meticulously scanned the succulent section of the book.
“Hmm, Juste, why don’t you try. It might be familiar to you, at least by looks or by name.”
“Lemme see,” Juste sneaked beside Maxill.
Juste flipped throughout the section and something caught his eye.
His mouth slightly opened but was out for words when he saw the scientific name of the prospective plant.
It was named Saraisium ordinem.