A Perfect Morning

“KOKEKOKKO!” A Lesser Cockatrice caws from the roof of my hut, jolting me awake.

Still tired, I groan and roll over, falling out of bed, making sure to slam my head into the nightstand on the way down before faceplanting into the hardwood floor.

I let out another groan.

Tempting as it may be to stay down here the rest of the day and finally become one with the floor, I valiantly resist the urge. Instead, I force myself up and head to the bathroom, though not before missing the doorway and walking straight into a wall, hitting my head in the same spot as before.

I hunch over in pain, clutching my head. If I wasn’t awake before, I definitely am now.

Standing over the sink, I blindly fumble around for my wand, only to come up empty-handed. I let out yet another groan.

I hate trying to cast wandless magic.

I close my eyes, place my hand over my chest, and steady my breath, drawing in the mana around me and mixing it with my own. Extending my arm, I carefully guide the mana out through my fingertip as I try to visualize tiny pockets of mana snapping into water droplets around it, gathering one by one until they form a ball of water.

I crack open an eye and am pleasantly surprised by how well it came out.

Unfortunately…

…surprise is the enemy of magic.

The water ball wobbles as my concentration slips. In a panic I try to steady it, but the spell begins to unravel, so I quickly point my finger at my face and—

“Ghk!”

—accidentally fire the spell way harder than I meant to.

Water shoots up my nose and I immediately double over, coughing. After regaining my composure, I dry my face with a towel before slipping on a pair of round glasses with thin black frames.

Ah, yes. Functioning vision. So wonderful to have you back, my love.

Alas, I’m forced to look at the disaster of a teenage girl that somehow never fails to greet me in the mirror every morning, always wearing the same disheveled look and ratty old green pajamas. Short, scrawny, pale, blue-eyed, and with a mess of light brown hair going every which way, I truly am the epitome of beauty. Surely one day the suitors will come lining up…

…one day.

I fashion part of my hair into two braids—one hanging over each shoulder—to keep it out of the way while I work. As for the rest of my hair—eh, forget it. Why bother? Next, I rub some skin cream on my face, adding extra to where I bumped my head to prevent swelling. Finally, I whip out my toothbrush…

…which I also cover in skin cream.

Did I mention the skin cream is just slime?

Horrifying to most, they just don't know slime like I do. It has so many amazing hygienic and medicinal applications! It even smells and tastes great!

Oh well, their loss.

More slime for me.

As I finish putting on my black witch's robes and hat, a delicious scent wafts through the window. I race for the door, and just as Grandma Rosemary begins knocking, I swing it open.

“Granny!”

I pull off my hat and lean against her, presenting my head for one of her unrivaled head pats.

She gives a surprised chuckle. “Oh my! Quite lively this morning, aren't we, Nora? Guess that means I didn’t need to bring you this.”

She pulls a fresh-baked bun from her basket, but unlike the others, this one’s filled with rich, melted cheese—both extremely delicious and wonderfully energizing, making it the perfect way to start any morning! I grab the bun and take a bite, unable to suppress the little sounds of delight that escape me.

“Mmm, thank you, Granny!”

She lovingly pats my head as I eat. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all, sweetie. You know nothing brightens my mornings more than seeing you smile.”

“Because I’m so cute?” I ask with exaggerated confidence.

“The cutest in the whole village!” she proclaims, pinching my cheeks.

Hard to believe I’ll turn sixteen tomorrow given how much Granny still babies me.

An elderly woman with silver hair tied in a low loose bun, kind brown eyes, a small chestnut cloak draped over her shoulders, and a simple white apron over a faded purple dress that smells faintly of lilac and gooseberries—Rosemary Applewood radiates grandma energy.

While not really my grandma, she showers me with love all the same, regularly checking in to make sure I’m doing alright since I live pretty far from the village. She also sells the herbs I collect in her store, letting me keep the profits so I can buy anything I can’t make or gather on my own. She even brings me treats! There really are few joys sweeter in life than being doted on by a loving old lady.

“Before I go, I have a list of herbs I was hoping you could gather for the village, if that’s alright.”

I glance over it. “Okay! I’ll have all these ready for you later today!”

“Oh my, that soon? I hope you’re not pushing yourself too hard, Nora, you know how you worry me sometimes. You’re eating balanced meals now, right? And those boys haven’t been picking on you, have they? And—”

“Don’t worry, Granny, I’ve got this!” I give a nervous laugh and scarf down the last of my bun before flexing my non-existent muscles, trying to assuage her concerns.

Though not fully convinced, she still gives me a gentle smile.

“Well, thank you, Nora. It’s always reassuring knowing Green Hollow can count on your support. You take care, now, alright?”

She gives me one last head pat before taking her leave, and I wave goodbye.

“Thanks, Granny! I will!”

No longer demoralized by this morning’s mishaps, I put my hat back on, sling my satchel over my shoulder, grab my wand, slip on my little white gloves, and get to work.

First I tend to the garden, harvesting any crops that are ready and planting new ones in their place. Then I water each crop with a spell— so much easier with a wand, I might add—each spell taking only a few seconds to cast with precise control.

Next, I collect herbs that have finished drying and any concoctions that have finished fermenting, setting out fresh batches afterward.

Finally, I check the monster feeders I leave out for the forest critters, restocking the food and collecting whatever they leave behind—feathers, horns, droppings, and the like—all useful for my research.

Before heading off to collect herbs, I pop back inside and pull a gigantic book off the shelf—Nora Littleroot’s Monster Encyclopedia.

Another book tumbles off the shelf with it, landing at my feet.

The Cabbage Knight .

I used to love this one. It’s a fairytale about a brave farmer who forms a summoner’s contract with a Dire Wolf and sets out on a journey to rescue his childhood sweetheart from a ring of evil bandits.

Summoners are heroes of the kingdom who fight side by side with monsters to protect the innocent. I used to fantasize about becoming one, though now I’m all too aware that I’d never have the courage to live that kind of life.

Besides, a contract can only form when you slay a monster, and even then, the chance of two souls bonding is extremely low. Plus, having to take a life just for the chance of forming a contract… that’d just be too sad.

I put the book back on the shelf and turn my attention to my encyclopedia.

Back when I was a little, I’d often sit on the porch with Mom and Dad, eating berries as we admired the world around us. Occasionally, we’d spot monsters, and though they scared me at first, my parents would point out the funny little behaviors they’d noticed over the years, like how Snail Turtles blow bubbles when startled or Blue Slimes dance when it starts to rain.

All you ever hear about monsters is how vicious and deadly they are, but most species aren’t really like that. The vast majority of attacks only happen when monsters feel threatened. In reality, they’re just as wary of us as we are of them and want nothing to do with human settlements.

It’s thanks to those precious moments with my parents that I learned just how captivating and complex each and every monster truly is. Heck, I even got so into watching them that my parents eventually gave me this book to take notes in.

Sadly, not long after, they both passed away while caring for the villagers during a plague. But whenever I take notes in this book, it still feels like they’re right there by my side, watching over me every day.

Though I think Mom would probably freak out if she saw how far I’ve taken things—now directly interacting with the monsters, conducting experiments with them, and cataloging their unique biological traits and behaviors.

I’ve been doing it for so long there’s barely an inch of this book I haven’t written in. I started attaching extra pieces of paper to make more room, but it’s getting to the point where I can barely even close the thing anymore. I’m sure one day I’ll have to start a new one, but for now… I’d like to keep writing in this one while I still can.

I skim through the book, figuring out which monsters I’d like to observe and what experiments I’d like to run while I’m out gathering herbs today, eventually deciding on Blue Slimes and Ember Boars.

After gathering the supplies I’ll need, I head out into the forest. Just in case, I grab another wand on my way out the door. You never know when you might need a spare.

It can be pretty dangerous out there, though…

…not for the reasons you might expect.