55 – A Bitter Potion To Swallow

Alexandra walked down the main street of Esmera with a hood covering her hair. She moved slowly, careful not to attract attention. There were fewer stalls than usual, and the merchants that were there talked in hushed voices to customers purchasing in bulk.

The news had spread.

She kept her eyes forward. She was getting closer to the temple.

There was no line this time, and the door was closed. She knocked.

A few seconds later, a priest opened the door. He looked her up and down, and invited her in.

She followed the priest down a short corridor and into Arame’s office. The head was at her desk, working through a stack of documents with a quill. She didn’t look up. A candle had burned low on the corner of the desk, wax pooled around its base.

“Sit,” Arame said, turning a page.

Alexandra pulled the chair and sat.

“I gathered the money.” She set the five gold coins on the edge of the desk.

Arame finished her line, then looked at the coins. She set down the quill.

“Did you?”

“I also have a new sickness,” Alexandra said. “Empathy.”

Arame was quiet for a moment. She picked up one of the coins. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to help with this one.” A pause. “How did you even—” She shook her head. “Forget it. I don’t want to know.”

“I can gather more money.”

“That’s not the issue.” Arame leaned back in her chair and looked at her. “Miss Alexandra, I’ve never encountered this sickness outside of books. Much less a cure for it.”

“Never? Didn’t Apple tell you?”

Arame’s hand stopped on the desk.

“How do you know that name?”

Alexandra frowned. “She said she would report to the temple. I assumed—”

“Report to the temple.” Arame repeated it slowly. She stood and walked to the window. Outside, the street was quiet. “When did you speak with her?”

“Two days ago.”

Silence.

“The day of the incident.” Arame turned. “Miss Alexandra, I haven’t heard from any of the Hands stationed in the plains since then. The people I sent to the closest villages all speak of verdant beasts. Apple was the furthest away from Esmera. You couldn’t have come and gone in such a short time.”

Arame studied her for a moment. Then she moved back to her desk and sat down. “I would appreciate your cooperation.”

Alexandra bit her lips. “I was in her village when it happened.” She paused. “A coincidence.”

“A coincidence,” Arame said.

“A pack of Duskmaws came through the village. One of them was blessed.” Alexandra paused. “By the Yshant.”

The room was very still.

“You saw this.”

“I fought it.”

Arame looked at her for a long moment. Then she reached for a fresh sheet of parchment and began to write. “Then I have to assume all the villages met the same fate.” She didn’t stop writing. “Where is Apple now?”

“I don’t know. We won the battle. Killed the beast. She was fine, tending to the survivors.”

Arame set down the quill and sanded the parchment. “Then I’ll assume the worst.” She folded the sheet. “You should leave Esmera, Miss Alexandra. The next boat departs today. I’d be on it.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“The Hands will.” Arame set the folded sheet to one side. “Every one I have left in this region. So not many. I won’t keep them here to die.”

“You’re abandoning the city.”

“I’m preserving what I have left to preserve.” She met Alexandra’s eyes. “I will naturally forward a letter to the actual Wardens, not the fools ruling this town. Act carefully, Alexandra, Yshants are powerful beasts, but they don’t coordinate like that. Something is afoot, and neither I nor you have the power to stop it.”

“I can handle myself.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“I have to disagree. With all due respect.” She shook her head. “If not the Yshant, the Wardens who’ll come to restore order will get you. Don’t forget the situation you’re in. Just because the Saint has chosen not to be involved doesn’t mean the other heroes won’t act.”

Alexandra rolled her eyes. “And if not them, their subordinates. I know.”

“It’s your choice,” Arame said. She closed her eyes. “Bamir already warned you.”

Silence.

“He was a nice man. Too nice to climb up the ranks,” she continued. “But I digress.” She stood up from her desk, and walked to a cabinet against the far wall. It was tall and narrow, every inch of it divided into small drawers, each one labeled. Arame ran her fingers along a row near the middle, reading the labels, then pulled one open and removed a small glass vial. The liquid inside was dark, nearly black, with a faint reddish cast when the light caught it.

She held it out.

Alexandra took it.

“For the mana sickness. Drink it after a meal. Sit down when you do it. You’ll feel it move through you and it isn’t pleasant, but it won’t last long.” She turned back toward her desk. “I have to insist on the meal. It doesn’t mesh well with an empty stomach.”

Alexandra turned the vial over in her fingers. “Thank you.”

“Leave the coins behind.” Arame sat down and drew the stack of documents back toward her.

“I got my second sickness defending Apple’s village from the beasts. She was going to request compensation for me.”