“Let's see … an alchemy shop … it should be just about … here?”
I was completely lost.
There was a reason I was making Apple trot at slower than walking pace. And it wasn't just because I was very puzzled by why mud appeared to be dripping from that one window over there.
I took in the hodgepodge of buildings around us, feeling for the first time my utter lack of familiarity with our smaller domains.
Rolstein was clearly not the Royal Villa, where every block of quarried stone was carefully measured before being allowed to set. There was little uniformity in this town. Its architecture was a flamboyant mix of differently shaped clay roofs and brightly painted wooden, stone or brick facades, as though each and every dwelling had been designed on a whim and then redesigned that very same evening.
Though it filled me with dread, I'd need to navigate these labyrinths of poor architectural design in the coming days. And I'd need to do so without bellowing high and low that I needed directions in my own homeland.
Fortunately, Coppelia was not a subject of the kingdom! Why, she wasn't even a dignitary, but an assistant librarian. I had no qualms about maximising my use of her. And she in turn could have the joy of assisting me. It was a wonderful, mutually beneficial arrangement for all parties!
Coppelia glanced at me as I subtly stared at her.
“My masterful skills of observation indicate that you seem to want to ask something.”
“Perish the thought. You've been remarkably helpful thus far, and I have no intention of intruding on your cordiality or your clockwork memory of names, places and locations, such as a shop owned by a local alchemist named Marina.”
“Well, okay—”
“But as declining assistance is the height of ill grace, I'd be content to allow you to direct me to my destination while I'm still gathering my bearings.”
I smiled considerately.
Now, fair clockwork maiden, guide me through this maze of poverty!
Coppelia pointed at a building right beside us. And then the signboard next to a pile of cauldrons stacked like salad bowls.
Fresh Potions, Balms & Remedies!
Accredited alchemist inside.
Garden picked and rare herbs for sale.
Loyalty card available. 10% discount on all weekly orders now!
I felt my admiration for Coppelia's skills grow.
Not only could she lift heavy objects, but she could also conjure entire shops right beside us! Indeed, it definitely wasn't because I was blind. No, no, no. Not at all.
“By any chance, do you need something for your eyes?” she asked.
“O-Ohhoho! M-My eyes are perfectly fine, thank you!” I replied, closing the topic with a cough—before bringing my hand over my nose. “... I can't quite say the same about my sense of smell, however. What is that?”
It was a tiny shop that required half of its wares to spill out onto the street.
Even so, the pungent odour wafting from within was more than our three kitchens in the Royal Villa could emit even in the midst of preparing for a large scale function. It was the scent of several witch's gardens being boiled, and that was if they grew manure straight from the ground.
Coppelia sniffed the air.
“Yep. Something died,” she said cheerfully. “Recently.”
“What manner of creature found its end here?”
“The question isn't what. It's how many.”
I shuddered.
Alchemists. They were like mages without the magic. And that meant they had to make up for their insanity with their own hands.
Be that as it may, a princess did not shrink from her duties!
Climbing down from Apple, I left him to chew on a bundle of daisies growing from a cauldron while I rummaged in the satchels for an envelope. Finding it, I headed inside. The door was already wide open, and once I entered, I realised why.
Here, the sheer pungency almost threatened to knock me off my feet.
The effects of a hundreds herbs, plants and dead things dotted on shelves stacked against every wall rushed out to greet me … as did a lilac miasma, which wafted from a room further inside the store.
I coughed while waving my hand furiously—one or the other catching the attention of the young woman peeking her head out from a room billowing with the lilac cloud.
“Good evening!” she said, her arms clearly in the midst of mixing, or perhaps fighting something. “You made it just in time. I was about to close up. What can I do for you?”
She had a bright smile. I wondered how much of that was genuine and how much was simply intoxication from permanent herbal exposure. If she could somehow bottle that lilac miasma, I had no doubt that some of the zanier members of nobility would purchase it in bulk.
I opted not to inform her about this opportunity.
“I'm searching for Marina the alchemist.”
“Oh my! That'd be me. What crime did I do this time, I wonder?”
I paused.
It sounded like a joke. But I couldn't be certain. Not when there were enough ingredients in this store that she could close her eyes and likely create something illicit by accident.
I decided to reserve judgement. For now.
“Salutations. I have a horse named Apple. I was asked to deliver him to you by a barkeeper. He's outside eating your daisies.”
The young woman's arms stopped working. The thickness of the miasma immediately intensified. She let out a note of panic, disappeared from view, and after the sound of crashing pots and pans echoed throughout the store, the hiss of a fire being quenched flooded my ears.
If there was any steam, I wouldn't know. I was blind to my own hands at this point.
Fortunately, I didn't need to see to know where Starlight Grace was!
“[Spring Breeze]!”
In an instant, the lilac cloud poofed out of the open door, ushered by the tip of my sword. A faint fog still remained as I put Starlight Grace away as swiftly as I'd drawn it. Gathering the mist for more than a heartbeat would have resulted in her wares flying in every direction. Including my face.
Of all the things I didn't wish to experience today, eating the dried root of some carrot-like vegetable was most certainly at the top of my priority list.
The next would be to complete this errand as swiftly as possible.
“Oops, I'm—ack-hack-ack-ughh—sorry there!” called out a voice. “I wasn't expecting that! Did you say—ack-ughh—that Apple is here? And .. a barkeeper?”
I waved my hands in a futile attempt to disperse the remaining fog. I held back the twitch that demanded me to draw on [Spring Breeze] again.
“A barkeeper,” I repeated after I couldn't hold my breath any longer. The air tasted like … oh, raspberries? “I was permitted to ride Apple here in exchange for delivering him to you.”
The young woman reappeared in her doorway, her hands wringing a damp cloth. Both her apron and her face were unkempt with blotches of unidentifiable powders, like splotches of paint on a canvas.
It was an appearance that made me momentarily speechless. Protocol demanded that a certain level of grooming be required so as to not deface my eyes. Even so, I noted her prettiness at once, powder notwithstanding. It was not the same classical beauty I monopolised, but she had a youthfulness that was common in towngirls.
“A barkeeper? Do you mean … Father?”
“I wasn't made aware of his relationship with you. Only that Apple be brought. Speaking of whom, Apple enjoys eating apples. There was an insufficient supply provided for this trip, so you'll be required to purchase some immediately for his enjoyment.”
“What? … Wait, I don't—”
“I suggest Red Princesses. They're crisp, aromatic, slightly sour, and highly vulnerable to caterpillars. Please make sure you check each apple thoroughly before buying. If you spot any, search for me at any cost and I'll deal with it.”
I waited for the young woman to provide acknowledgement of this very important point. The crops felled by disease, blight or magical illness was one thing. But if the local apples had been compromised by caterpillars, then I'd be forced to take off my gloves on the matter.
Instead, the young alchemist merely looked dazed. The whiff of a cauldron spitting out miasma had clearly gotten to her more than me.
“Hold on. You're telling me that … Father gave me Apple? Why would he do that?”
I produced the envelope provided in the satchel. I would have walked up to her as well, but each step further into the store was to swim against a tide of conflicting aromas.
The young woman approached and gingerly took the envelope.
Pulling out the letter within, she creased her brows in preparation for whatever contents she was expecting.
As she read, the expression on her face turned listless. A sigh eventually followed as she slid the letter back into its container.
“Thank you for bringing this to me. However, I'm sorry to say that I have no reply that I can offer at this time.”
“The apology is unnecessary. As is the reply. I have no intention of being a return courier. I have my own tasks to accomplish.”
The woman's eyes glanced at Starlight Grace by my hip. She tilted her head in puzzlement.
“Oh, I see. Are you … a student of my father?”
“Student?”
The woman nodded.
“Thomas Lainsfont. He … He used to teach people how to use a sword. Soldiers, adventurers. Sometimes those pretending to be soldiers and adventurers. If you're acquainted with him, I thought that maybe …”
Odd.
In my memories of that barkeeper, he neither boasted a sword nor struck me as one who'd teach it. Was it common for sword instructors to turn to barkeeping to make ends meet?
Clearly, the state of the economy was even more dire than I'd feared. I had no time to waste!
“We're not acquainted. I simply borrowed his horse, his crowns, and his provisions. The first I hand over to you, as per my agreement with him. The latter two I will repay in due course.”
“I … see?” The woman looked confused at me. “That seems like quite a lot. And you two are strangers beforehand?”
I placed my hand to my chest and smiled.
“I have a noble purpose.”
Indeed, a simple barkeeper he may now be, but his sense of duty was impeccable. I may not remember his name, but I shall remember his loyalty. It will stand him in good stead for when I began my hiring spree.
“A noble purpose … I see.” The woman smiled faintly. “Well, thank you for bringing this letter to me. And Apple, of course. I haven't seen him since he was a foal. I'm Marina Lainsfont.”
“Juliette. And my future attendant, Coppelia.”
“Yaho~”
Behind me, Coppelia waved while she busied herself with taking in all the ingredients on the shelves. She seemed markedly curious about the wares on offer. Perhaps the powdered roots and crushed eyeballs in the Kingdom of Tirea was different to the ones found in the Northern Realm of Ouzelia.
The woman nodded at us both. Once more, her eyes wandered to my sword.
“That technique you did to disperse the alchemical smoke—sorry about that, by the way—what was that?”
“That was [Spring Breeze]. A convenient way to eject common garden pests from my orchard.”
The woman blinked, then tilted her head once more.
“Excuse me? Did I understand that right? You use a sword technique to do away with insects?”
“Well, no, I think it's rather a stretch to call it a sword technique. A broom would be more useful. I simply use what I have on hand.”
“... And that would be your sword?”
I smiled proudly.
“Though inefficient, swords are highly versatile. From sweeping up caterpillars like a broom or for use as a quill when writing breathtaking poetry, one must simply be open minded when utilising the tools at their disposal.”
And also lazy! … Ingenious, but lazy … creative, but lazy … innovative, but lazy!
The woman's mouth opened wordlessly. The disbelief and the, well, palpable confusion in her eyes was evident. But I stand by my methods!
A sword can do almost anything, provided that the willpower and the time was there!
“I … see.” The woman tidied her expression, then looked between Coppelia and myself. There was a glint of optimism in her eyes. “That's certainly new. By any chance, would the two of you happen to be with the Adventurer's Guild?”
“We are not,” I said, wondering which part of my well-dressed state made me look as if I could be an adventurer. “And if you seek the services of the local branch, you'll have to barrel through the door first. They appear to be selectively choosing which commissions they accept.”
“I know. Cedric is the guildmaster. He explained his reasoning to me. I was hoping that if you two were new adventurers, that would mean my commission could finally be received ...”
The woman's shoulders fell as she continued.
“... Unfortunately, it seems I'll have to wait a little bit longer. And I was so close to a breakthrough, as well ...”
I frowned. I was no adventurer. But I was a princess. And even if the guild didn't adhere to their standards, I did.
That meant pretending to listen to the concerns of the townsfolk before waving them away.
“A breakthrough in what? What assistance did you require?”
The woman's eyes looked straight at me.
“A cure for the Withering laying waste to our fields. I believe I … no, I know I have a cure.”
My attention perked up at once.
What was this woman's name again? Marine? Marlene? Maria?
“Miss Lainsfont, what do you mean by having a cure? I was just informed that the cause for the blight was suspected to be magic. Do you have alchemic concoctions that can dispel such effects?”
The woman shook her head.
“I have nothing that can remedy magic. But I have reason to believe that this is no such thing. It's possible that an alchemical solution is both the cause and the cure to the Withering.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“It spreads,” she answered simply. “Like mildew, the Withering's effects continue unabated from field to field, as though passed on from leaf and root. Even the strongest magic depletes over time. It shouldn't continue to spread. To grow. To cast a spell that powerful, an incredibly powerful mage would be required. One whose existence is not known to the Mage's Guild.”
I nodded. What little I knew about magic suggested the same.
But at the same time, magic was preposterous. What was spellcraft and the arcane, if not wholly without rules where rules should certainly exist?
“Surely, this would be a common assessment. Why is it that magic is deemed the prime culprit, then?”
“It's an easy explanation, I imagine. Or rather, a non-explanation which can be accepted. People are scared. They want answers. Magic is an answer. Alchemy less so. It's difficult to believe that a potion could have caused this. And yet I believe it might be the case.”
“Did you bring your beliefs to Baron Alonte?”
Marine, Marlene or Maria gave a slightly pained smile.
“Well, I don't really have access to the baron. However, I did bring this to the attention of my peers. They were … well, they were unable to identify any alchemical properties in the affected crops. As a result, neither the garrison nor the Adventurer's Guild can spare anyone for my request ...”
“Understandable. Have a nice day.”
“Wait!” pleaded the woman at once. “Ingredients! I need ingredients. Pixie dust. Sprite wings. Meteorite ore. Living essence and more ...”
I raised an eyebrow.
That was quite the list. Had the Royal Villa's physician had access to those ingredients, I'm sure he'd have discovered a kinder way to check if my reflexes were working other than striking my knee with that ridiculous little hammer of his.
“You believe you can devise a cure for the Withering?” I asked. “Even without evidence?”
“I can't have evidence without trying. And I believe I'm close to something which is worth these ingredients. Just as the Withering can spread, it can also recede. I'm … I'm certain.”
“Have you any basis of fact for this theory?”
The woman bit her lips.
“No. But I know it to be true. I can feel it. I just need … I just need a chance. But I need help. I need help so I can help others in turn.”
I stopped myself from rolling my eyes.
Here lay a true do-gooder. Meaning she was either a saint or a psychopath. I'm sure she was the type of person who offered potions for free and remedies at a below-cost discount. And thus, the practicalities of having little coin and little influence meant that any heroics were sadly short lived.
Because to affect change, one must first earn a prodigious income.
This is precisely the problem with these types of people. While they're doing good, they're not making money. And when they're not making money, they're not hiring help for their herb picking errands. Because, yes, even adventurers, for all their public displays of cat fetching needed crowns. And much more than they cared to admit.
Fortunately for ... Marina? Marina Lainsfont, I was no adventurer.
I was a princess. And my goal wasn't to make crowns. It was to keep it.
Thus, I raised my hand to my cheek and smiled.
“Ohhohoho! Rejoice, for Lady Luck has smiled upon you this day. I happen to have a vested interest in curing this Withering. Merely state what must be done, and it will be so. What is required to concoct this supposed cure of yours?”
I received a stunned look in response.
Even so, it was clear from the movement of her gaze that she was appraising me. I was more than happy to oblige. Whether it was my character or my willpower, I was flawless in both mind and heart.
“I … well … to be clear, I already have most of the constituent ingredients to create a sample. Really, there's only one thing I cannot get myself. I … I just need …”
“Yes?”
The woman hesitated. I immediately started wondering what ghastly monster she required the eyeball of.
“The petals of a newly bloomed starflower.”
Ah.
Even worse than an eyeball.
At least they could be found. Two of them per monster as well. Usually.
But the petals of a starflower?
It was said to be a flower with divine healing properties. And it could only be found blooming in the darkest places in the world, shining like a star amidst the darkness. Hence its terribly dull name.
Whether or not the healing properties were true, however, what was certain was the flower's extreme rarity.
It was only recently that a single starflower had the effect of bankrupting several bidders in a public auction—even though only one had gone on to win it.
For a chance at curing any ailment, things as meagre as loans, collateral and consequences were irrelevant. Such thoughts were only too easy for someone who not only desired a starflower, but needed it.
This woman, Marina Lainsfont, was certain to meet disappointment in this request. Both from a lack of funds, and from a lack of starflowers.
“That'll be difficult,” I said plainly. “As singularly capable as I am, I cannot conjure divine flowers on a whim. Unless you happen to know where one can be freely acquired, I'm afraid that you'll have to make do with alternatives.”
I was given no response.
At least, none so far as spoken words were concerned. Her eyes told me a different tale. And it didn't require my innate skills at diplomacy to understand what.
“You know of one's location?” I asked, genuinely intrigued. “Where is it?”
Why, if I could cultivate a starflower, then the capital that could bring in would surely off-set all of the kingdom's financial woes!
In fact, I could double dip! I wouldn't need to solely bankrupt our own citizens to fill the Royal Treasury. Sovereigns from other nations would pour chests laden with crowns into our country if it meant providing even a single starflower.
Even so, the young alchemist shook her head.
“It's not as simple as that. I can't just tell anyone. It may be very dangerous. And … I don't know if it's actually there. The risk is too high ...”
Her voice trailed off.
Still, I could finish her words for her.
She couldn't just tell anyone.
But she could tell someone.
The implications, I rather suspected, being that she couldn't tell anyone she personally knew. To risk life and limb for a theoretical starflower of further theoretical use would certainly weigh on the conscious of a self-styled do-gooder.
“Rest assured that you may safely divulge the details of this starflower to me. Both myself and my future attendant are highly capable. If such a vaunted specimen exists, I would like to retrieve it for both your use and my personal study. If possible, I will attempt to harvest some seeds.”
“I was under the impression that the seeds of a starflower couldn't be harvested?”
“Allow me to concern myself with that. If the starflower is used to cure the Withering, then I'll consider this venture a success.”
The woman was motionless. A final pause, as if to measure the merit of my words.
Naturally, I passed with flying colours.
“My father was always an excellent judge of character,” she said. “And I trust in his choice of rider for Apple. If you're content to scour the darkness, I can show you the way. Give me a moment to prepare my things. Hopefully, it won't be needed, but ...”
“I understand. Thank you for your consideration.”
The woman glanced at my clothes.
“Um, there's just one thing.”
“Yes?”
“It might be a little bit … well, dirty.”
My confidence only dipped as she began fidgeting with her hands. I regularly braved fresh, clean soil within my orchard. Yet something told me this would be more disquieting than that.
“How dirty?”
The woman offered a nervous smile.
“Have you ever climbed down a well, Juliette?”
“Let's see … an alchemy shop … it should be just about … here?”
I was completely lost.
There was a reason I was making Apple trot at slower than walking pace. And it wasn't just because I was very puzzled by why mud appeared to be dripping from that one window over there.
I took in the hodgepodge of buildings around us, feeling for the first time my utter lack of familiarity with our smaller domains.
Rolstein was clearly not the Royal Villa, where every block of quarried stone was carefully measured before being allowed to set. There was little uniformity in this town. Its architecture was a flamboyant mix of differently shaped clay roofs and brightly painted wooden, stone or brick facades, as though each and every dwelling had been designed on a whim and then redesigned that very same evening.
Though it filled me with dread, I'd need to navigate these labyrinths of poor architectural design in the coming days. And I'd need to do so without bellowing high and low that I needed directions in my own homeland.
Fortunately, Coppelia was not a subject of the kingdom! Why, she wasn't even a dignitary, but an assistant librarian. I had no qualms about maximising my use of her. And she in turn could have the joy of assisting me. It was a wonderful, mutually beneficial arrangement for all parties!
Coppelia glanced at me as I subtly stared at her.
“My masterful skills of observation indicate that you seem to want to ask something.”
“Perish the thought. You've been remarkably helpful thus far, and I have no intention of intruding on your cordiality or your clockwork memory of names, places and locations, such as a shop owned by a local alchemist named Marina.”
“Well, okay—”
“But as declining assistance is the height of ill grace, I'd be content to allow you to direct me to my destination while I'm still gathering my bearings.”
I smiled considerately.
Now, fair clockwork maiden, guide me through this maze of poverty!
Coppelia pointed at a building right beside us. And then the signboard next to a pile of cauldrons stacked like salad bowls.
Fresh Potions, Balms & Remedies!
Accredited alchemist inside.
Garden picked and rare herbs for sale.
Loyalty card available. 10% discount on all weekly orders now!
I felt my admiration for Coppelia's skills grow.
Not only could she lift heavy objects, but she could also conjure entire shops right beside us! Indeed, it definitely wasn't because I was blind. No, no, no. Not at all.
“By any chance, do you need something for your eyes?” she asked.
“O-Ohhoho! M-My eyes are perfectly fine, thank you!” I replied, closing the topic with a cough—before bringing my hand over my nose. “... I can't quite say the same about my sense of smell, however. What is that?”
It was a tiny shop that required half of its wares to spill out onto the street.
Even so, the pungent odour wafting from within was more than our three kitchens in the Royal Villa could emit even in the midst of preparing for a large scale function. It was the scent of several witch's gardens being boiled, and that was if they grew manure straight from the ground.
Coppelia sniffed the air.
“Yep. Something died,” she said cheerfully. “Recently.”
“What manner of creature found its end here?”
“The question isn't what. It's how many.”
I shuddered.
Alchemists. They were like mages without the magic. And that meant they had to make up for their insanity with their own hands.
Be that as it may, a princess did not shrink from her duties!
Climbing down from Apple, I left him to chew on a bundle of daisies growing from a cauldron while I rummaged in the satchels for an envelope. Finding it, I headed inside. The door was already wide open, and once I entered, I realised why.
Here, the sheer pungency almost threatened to knock me off my feet.
The effects of a hundreds herbs, plants and dead things dotted on shelves stacked against every wall rushed out to greet me … as did a lilac miasma, which wafted from a room further inside the store.
I coughed while waving my hand furiously—one or the other catching the attention of the young woman peeking her head out from a room billowing with the lilac cloud.
“Good evening!” she said, her arms clearly in the midst of mixing, or perhaps fighting something. “You made it just in time. I was about to close up. What can I do for you?”
She had a bright smile. I wondered how much of that was genuine and how much was simply intoxication from permanent herbal exposure. If she could somehow bottle that lilac miasma, I had no doubt that some of the zanier members of nobility would purchase it in bulk.
I opted not to inform her about this opportunity.
“I'm searching for Marina the alchemist.”
“Oh my! That'd be me. What crime did I do this time, I wonder?”
I paused.
It sounded like a joke. But I couldn't be certain. Not when there were enough ingredients in this store that she could close her eyes and likely create something illicit by accident.
I decided to reserve judgement. For now.
“Salutations. I have a horse named Apple. I was asked to deliver him to you by a barkeeper. He's outside eating your daisies.”
The young woman's arms stopped working. The thickness of the miasma immediately intensified. She let out a note of panic, disappeared from view, and after the sound of crashing pots and pans echoed throughout the store, the hiss of a fire being quenched flooded my ears.
If there was any steam, I wouldn't know. I was blind to my own hands at this point.
Fortunately, I didn't need to see to know where Starlight Grace was!
“[Spring Breeze]!”
In an instant, the lilac cloud poofed out of the open door, ushered by the tip of my sword. A faint fog still remained as I put Starlight Grace away as swiftly as I'd drawn it. Gathering the mist for more than a heartbeat would have resulted in her wares flying in every direction. Including my face.
Of all the things I didn't wish to experience today, eating the dried root of some carrot-like vegetable was most certainly at the top of my priority list.
The next would be to complete this errand as swiftly as possible.
“Oops, I'm—ack-hack-ack-ughh—sorry there!” called out a voice. “I wasn't expecting that! Did you say—ack-ughh—that Apple is here? And .. a barkeeper?”
I waved my hands in a futile attempt to disperse the remaining fog. I held back the twitch that demanded me to draw on [Spring Breeze] again.
“A barkeeper,” I repeated after I couldn't hold my breath any longer. The air tasted like … oh, raspberries? “I was permitted to ride Apple here in exchange for delivering him to you.”
The young woman reappeared in her doorway, her hands wringing a damp cloth. Both her apron and her face were unkempt with blotches of unidentifiable powders, like splotches of paint on a canvas.
It was an appearance that made me momentarily speechless. Protocol demanded that a certain level of grooming be required so as to not deface my eyes. Even so, I noted her prettiness at once, powder notwithstanding. It was not the same classical beauty I monopolised, but she had a youthfulness that was common in towngirls.
“A barkeeper? Do you mean … Father?”
“I wasn't made aware of his relationship with you. Only that Apple be brought. Speaking of whom, Apple enjoys eating apples. There was an insufficient supply provided for this trip, so you'll be required to purchase some immediately for his enjoyment.”
“What? … Wait, I don't—”
“I suggest Red Princesses. They're crisp, aromatic, slightly sour, and highly vulnerable to caterpillars. Please make sure you check each apple thoroughly before buying. If you spot any, search for me at any cost and I'll deal with it.”
I waited for the young woman to provide acknowledgement of this very important point. The crops felled by disease, blight or magical illness was one thing. But if the local apples had been compromised by caterpillars, then I'd be forced to take off my gloves on the matter.
Instead, the young alchemist merely looked dazed. The whiff of a cauldron spitting out miasma had clearly gotten to her more than me.
“Hold on. You're telling me that … Father gave me Apple? Why would he do that?”
I produced the envelope provided in the satchel. I would have walked up to her as well, but each step further into the store was to swim against a tide of conflicting aromas.
The young woman approached and gingerly took the envelope.
Pulling out the letter within, she creased her brows in preparation for whatever contents she was expecting.
As she read, the expression on her face turned listless. A sigh eventually followed as she slid the letter back into its container.
“Thank you for bringing this to me. However, I'm sorry to say that I have no reply that I can offer at this time.”
“The apology is unnecessary. As is the reply. I have no intention of being a return courier. I have my own tasks to accomplish.”
The woman's eyes glanced at Starlight Grace by my hip. She tilted her head in puzzlement.
“Oh, I see. Are you … a student of my father?”
“Student?”
The woman nodded.
“Thomas Lainsfont. He … He used to teach people how to use a sword. Soldiers, adventurers. Sometimes those pretending to be soldiers and adventurers. If you're acquainted with him, I thought that maybe …”
Odd.
In my memories of that barkeeper, he neither boasted a sword nor struck me as one who'd teach it. Was it common for sword instructors to turn to barkeeping to make ends meet?
Clearly, the state of the economy was even more dire than I'd feared. I had no time to waste!
“We're not acquainted. I simply borrowed his horse, his crowns, and his provisions. The first I hand over to you, as per my agreement with him. The latter two I will repay in due course.”
“I … see?” The woman looked confused at me. “That seems like quite a lot. And you two are strangers beforehand?”
I placed my hand to my chest and smiled.
“I have a noble purpose.”
Indeed, a simple barkeeper he may now be, but his sense of duty was impeccable. I may not remember his name, but I shall remember his loyalty. It will stand him in good stead for when I began my hiring spree.
“A noble purpose … I see.” The woman smiled faintly. “Well, thank you for bringing this letter to me. And Apple, of course. I haven't seen him since he was a foal. I'm Marina Lainsfont.”
“Juliette. And my future attendant, Coppelia.”
“Yaho~”
Behind me, Coppelia waved while she busied herself with taking in all the ingredients on the shelves. She seemed markedly curious about the wares on offer. Perhaps the powdered roots and crushed eyeballs in the Kingdom of Tirea was different to the ones found in the Northern Realm of Ouzelia.
The woman nodded at us both. Once more, her eyes wandered to my sword.
“That technique you did to disperse the alchemical smoke—sorry about that, by the way—what was that?”
“That was [Spring Breeze]. A convenient way to eject common garden pests from my orchard.”
The woman blinked, then tilted her head once more.
“Excuse me? Did I understand that right? You use a sword technique to do away with insects?”
“Well, no, I think it's rather a stretch to call it a sword technique. A broom would be more useful. I simply use what I have on hand.”
“... And that would be your sword?”
I smiled proudly.
“Though inefficient, swords are highly versatile. From sweeping up caterpillars like a broom or for use as a quill when writing breathtaking poetry, one must simply be open minded when utilising the tools at their disposal.”
And also lazy! … Ingenious, but lazy … creative, but lazy … innovative, but lazy!
The woman's mouth opened wordlessly. The disbelief and the, well, palpable confusion in her eyes was evident. But I stand by my methods!
A sword can do almost anything, provided that the willpower and the time was there!
“I … see.” The woman tidied her expression, then looked between Coppelia and myself. There was a glint of optimism in her eyes. “That's certainly new. By any chance, would the two of you happen to be with the Adventurer's Guild?”
“We are not,” I said, wondering which part of my well-dressed state made me look as if I could be an adventurer. “And if you seek the services of the local branch, you'll have to barrel through the door first. They appear to be selectively choosing which commissions they accept.”
“I know. Cedric is the guildmaster. He explained his reasoning to me. I was hoping that if you two were new adventurers, that would mean my commission could finally be received ...”
The woman's shoulders fell as she continued.
“... Unfortunately, it seems I'll have to wait a little bit longer. And I was so close to a breakthrough, as well ...”
I frowned. I was no adventurer. But I was a princess. And even if the guild didn't adhere to their standards, I did.
That meant pretending to listen to the concerns of the townsfolk before waving them away.
“A breakthrough in what? What assistance did you require?”
The woman's eyes looked straight at me.
“A cure for the Withering laying waste to our fields. I believe I … no, I know I have a cure.”
My attention perked up at once.
What was this woman's name again? Marine? Marlene? Maria?
“Miss Lainsfont, what do you mean by having a cure? I was just informed that the cause for the blight was suspected to be magic. Do you have alchemic concoctions that can dispel such effects?”
The woman shook her head.
“I have nothing that can remedy magic. But I have reason to believe that this is no such thing. It's possible that an alchemical solution is both the cause and the cure to the Withering.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“It spreads,” she answered simply. “Like mildew, the Withering's effects continue unabated from field to field, as though passed on from leaf and root. Even the strongest magic depletes over time. It shouldn't continue to spread. To grow. To cast a spell that powerful, an incredibly powerful mage would be required. One whose existence is not known to the Mage's Guild.”
I nodded. What little I knew about magic suggested the same.
But at the same time, magic was preposterous. What was spellcraft and the arcane, if not wholly without rules where rules should certainly exist?
“Surely, this would be a common assessment. Why is it that magic is deemed the prime culprit, then?”
“It's an easy explanation, I imagine. Or rather, a non-explanation which can be accepted. People are scared. They want answers. Magic is an answer. Alchemy less so. It's difficult to believe that a potion could have caused this. And yet I believe it might be the case.”
“Did you bring your beliefs to Baron Alonte?”
Marine, Marlene or Maria gave a slightly pained smile.
“Well, I don't really have access to the baron. However, I did bring this to the attention of my peers. They were … well, they were unable to identify any alchemical properties in the affected crops. As a result, neither the garrison nor the Adventurer's Guild can spare anyone for my request ...”
“Understandable. Have a nice day.”
“Wait!” pleaded the woman at once. “Ingredients! I need ingredients. Pixie dust. Sprite wings. Meteorite ore. Living essence and more ...”
I raised an eyebrow.
That was quite the list. Had the Royal Villa's physician had access to those ingredients, I'm sure he'd have discovered a kinder way to check if my reflexes were working other than striking my knee with that ridiculous little hammer of his.
“You believe you can devise a cure for the Withering?” I asked. “Even without evidence?”
“I can't have evidence without trying. And I believe I'm close to something which is worth these ingredients. Just as the Withering can spread, it can also recede. I'm … I'm certain.”
“Have you any basis of fact for this theory?”
The woman bit her lips.
“No. But I know it to be true. I can feel it. I just need … I just need a chance. But I need help. I need help so I can help others in turn.”
I stopped myself from rolling my eyes.
Here lay a true do-gooder. Meaning she was either a saint or a psychopath. I'm sure she was the type of person who offered potions for free and remedies at a below-cost discount. And thus, the practicalities of having little coin and little influence meant that any heroics were sadly short lived.
Because to affect change, one must first earn a prodigious income.
This is precisely the problem with these types of people. While they're doing good, they're not making money. And when they're not making money, they're not hiring help for their herb picking errands. Because, yes, even adventurers, for all their public displays of cat fetching needed crowns. And much more than they cared to admit.
Fortunately for ... Marina? Marina Lainsfont, I was no adventurer.
I was a princess. And my goal wasn't to make crowns. It was to keep it.
Thus, I raised my hand to my cheek and smiled.
“Ohhohoho! Rejoice, for Lady Luck has smiled upon you this day. I happen to have a vested interest in curing this Withering. Merely state what must be done, and it will be so. What is required to concoct this supposed cure of yours?”
I received a stunned look in response.
Even so, it was clear from the movement of her gaze that she was appraising me. I was more than happy to oblige. Whether it was my character or my willpower, I was flawless in both mind and heart.
“I … well … to be clear, I already have most of the constituent ingredients to create a sample. Really, there's only one thing I cannot get myself. I … I just need …”
“Yes?”
The woman hesitated. I immediately started wondering what ghastly monster she required the eyeball of.
“The petals of a newly bloomed starflower.”
Ah.
Even worse than an eyeball.
At least they could be found. Two of them per monster as well. Usually.
But the petals of a starflower?
It was said to be a flower with divine healing properties. And it could only be found blooming in the darkest places in the world, shining like a star amidst the darkness. Hence its terribly dull name.
Whether or not the healing properties were true, however, what was certain was the flower's extreme rarity.
It was only recently that a single starflower had the effect of bankrupting several bidders in a public auction—even though only one had gone on to win it.
For a chance at curing any ailment, things as meagre as loans, collateral and consequences were irrelevant. Such thoughts were only too easy for someone who not only desired a starflower, but needed it.
This woman, Marina Lainsfont, was certain to meet disappointment in this request. Both from a lack of funds, and from a lack of starflowers.
“That'll be difficult,” I said plainly. “As singularly capable as I am, I cannot conjure divine flowers on a whim. Unless you happen to know where one can be freely acquired, I'm afraid that you'll have to make do with alternatives.”
I was given no response.
At least, none so far as spoken words were concerned. Her eyes told me a different tale. And it didn't require my innate skills at diplomacy to understand what.
“You know of one's location?” I asked, genuinely intrigued. “Where is it?”
Why, if I could cultivate a starflower, then the capital that could bring in would surely off-set all of the kingdom's financial woes!
In fact, I could double dip! I wouldn't need to solely bankrupt our own citizens to fill the Royal Treasury. Sovereigns from other nations would pour chests laden with crowns into our country if it meant providing even a single starflower.
Even so, the young alchemist shook her head.
“It's not as simple as that. I can't just tell anyone. It may be very dangerous. And … I don't know if it's actually there. The risk is too high ...”
Her voice trailed off.
Still, I could finish her words for her.
She couldn't just tell anyone.
But she could tell someone.
The implications, I rather suspected, being that she couldn't tell anyone she personally knew. To risk life and limb for a theoretical starflower of further theoretical use would certainly weigh on the conscious of a self-styled do-gooder.
“Rest assured that you may safely divulge the details of this starflower to me. Both myself and my future attendant are highly capable. If such a vaunted specimen exists, I would like to retrieve it for both your use and my personal study. If possible, I will attempt to harvest some seeds.”
“I was under the impression that the seeds of a starflower couldn't be harvested?”
“Allow me to concern myself with that. If the starflower is used to cure the Withering, then I'll consider this venture a success.”
The woman was motionless. A final pause, as if to measure the merit of my words.
Naturally, I passed with flying colours.
“My father was always an excellent judge of character,” she said. “And I trust in his choice of rider for Apple. If you're content to scour the darkness, I can show you the way. Give me a moment to prepare my things. Hopefully, it won't be needed, but ...”
“I understand. Thank you for your consideration.”
The woman glanced at my clothes.
“Um, there's just one thing.”
“Yes?”
“It might be a little bit … well, dirty.”
My confidence only dipped as she began fidgeting with her hands. I regularly braved fresh, clean soil within my orchard. Yet something told me this would be more disquieting than that.
“How dirty?”
The woman offered a nervous smile.
“Have you ever climbed down a well, Juliette?”
