Purples. Reds. Greens. Blues. Yellows. Oranges. Browns.
Lira her store.
Poppy. Pansies. Roses. Lilacs. Aloe vera. Basil. Sage. Parsley. Furias.
Lira. She kept her charges sorted by colors most of the time, unless she was trying to make a display of them, use them as advertisement of what could be done with love and care given time and tending.
Lira also hated her store.
The friends she’d spent their entire lives caring for having to leave, likely never to be seen again. The ones she knew she was trading to apothecaries, that were going to get mutilated to be made into something else, something less pretty.
Lira hated being called an herbalist.
She preferred florist. Or botanist. Or caretaker. Or babysitter – flowersitter? Or something. But that attracted less customers. Made trading her friends to be able to trade for more friends or for her own livelihood easier. So she reluctantly did it.
She knew she didn’t have to, of course. Knew that if she didn’t trade her friends, her community would help to take care of her. Like they did for others. Like she did for those in her community that were struggling. As they had always done. But she wanted to contribute, wanted to help take care of her family and… other… friends. Not that they were more important than her true friends, just that that was what was expected, and Lira couldn’t find fault with that expectation.
She just didn’t entirely like it.
That was okay though! For every friend she lost, she vowed to get several more! And some knew how much she loved her friends, so they brought her other friends that they could trade with! Those were the best customers! Of course, if they didn’t know how exactly to take care of her new friend, the customer couldn’t tell her, and they weren’t able to accurately describe the environment the new friend was obtained from, there was a lot of trial and error. And sometimes, her new friends would all die before she figured out what they needed.
Aloe vera was one such friend. The plant was easily drowned, but needed a lot of sunlight, but not direct, and the soil needed to not retain much water, due to aforementioned drowning. The vera was one of the first succulents she had ever received. It was a harsh trade for her – she saw the appeal of the plant, but it was just a thick green grass to others. That was, of course, until apothecaries discovered the plant. Then it became one of her most sought after friends. She had to set aside dozens of them to ensure she could get more friends, otherwise those cruel friend killers would take all of them.
Lira loved her store.
These were the thoughts she had on a continual basis as she watered her more thirsty friends and tended to their needs, snipping away bad growths that could cause them harm, moving them either closer or further from the sunlight – largely dependent on the friend. Some needed fresh soil, so she would need to repot them.
On this particular day, Lira was in the process of reorganizing her friends.
She decided today that she would organize by flower type, putting like next to like instead of her color by color variation, as well as getting some of the plants that had been out of the sunlight for a day back into it, moving some flowers into the back of her shop – outside it, really – and those that could go without sun back inside for a little bit. It helped considerably that her store front was extremely small. She couldn’t put two of herself laying down head to foot inside. She had tested that using one of her friends to mark her spot on a day she was bored.
This day was supposed to be a slow day. Historically, it was a slow day. Two customers at most. And both had already come earlier, so she was just hanging out with her friends today. So when she came back inside, several purple poppies in hand, she was startled to see a young woman in her shop. The young woman who always took her by surprise. Though, this meeting was odd.
For one, there was a guard with her. A tall young man who looked bored and irritated, and also in the midst of saying something when Lira came in.
“See? She’s not in – the sign said she was closed, just because the door is unlocked—”
“Oh! I forgot to flip the sign!?” Lira cried out, hurriedly putting the poppies down and rushed over to the door, flipping her signage. “No, no, your charge was in the right, young man. I’m open.”
The young woman nodded, giving Lira a small wave, worthy of her small frame. She wore a tan shirt and brown pants, with a pair of sandals. The same outfit Lira had always seen her in. The man, clean shaven and young, wore a chain mail tunic, the iconography of Shellick Shell’s caravan – a hirnatoph – emblazoned on it in blue and cowhide pants. Unarmed, he looked like he would be able to do little, but there weren’t many attacks on a city like Memstats by the wild life, so weapons were rarely needed. Normally, people also didn’t get guard escorts in cities, for that same reason: they were already safe.
The second was that… she simply wasn’t expecting Oddly, Akai was the only apothecary that visited Lira who was interested in poppy. Akai always claimed it was because she thought the flower was pretty, but Lira could tell there was more to it than that. Not that Akai was wrong about the plant being pretty – it was one of Lira’s more sought after friends due to it’s attractive qualities – just that it was odd to Lira that Akai had brought the flower to her to figure out how to grow it, and even after she told Akai how, the woman still came to her. She told Lira that she’d prefer to get them from Lira since she didn’t want others to know she used them. Swore Lira to secrecy on that bit, too, when Lira had asked why she doesn’t grow them herself. They were easier to care for than some of the other plants that Akai had traded for, gotten care tips on, and then seemed to never want to trade for them again. Lira knew she had a garden of friends, too.
Sometimes she suspected that Akai just liked the companionship of talking to someone as fervent about friends as Lira was. Truthfully, though, Lira knew precious little about the apothecary. She’d figured out that she was the rumored Witch of Seyiki, but that held precious little to Lira. The rumors weren’t always true – for instance, her sister Mira had told her that the witch had brought her friend back from the dead. When Lira asked, Akai was shocked.
She’d said, “no? Gabe was just sick. I treated some of his symptoms so he could get energy back in his system to help fight off the infection.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
But the fact that no other apothecary or healer seemed to know what to do with Gabe, Lira was sold on Akai’s claims. Maybe Gabe wasn’t dead yet, but he would have died without her, so Lira decided that Akai did in fact bring Gabe back from the dead. Semantics be damned.
Lira would almost be tempted to say that she liked the apothecary in her store now. Blasphemous and traitorous as it would be to her friends if they knew that (which they did, as Lira had told them after the fourth time the woman had visited.)
“Oh!” the man said. His voice was a little higher in pitch – maybe Lira was wrong about how old she’d originally assumed he was. “Sorry to intrude on you, Ms. Lira. I was trying to get her to not go in but she insisted you were open.”
“Like I said, she was right. I did legitimately just forget to flip the sign. I do that sometimes. Besides, Akai is always welcome in my shop, regardless of the signage.” Lira waved her hand flippantly to the young man, apparently too caught up in his own head to listen to her the first time. “What can I do for you today, Akai?”
Akai smiled softly at her, approaching the wooden counter that Lira now stood behind, her head barely peeking up over it. “Looking for more aloe vera, sage, and poppy, Miss Lira, if they can be spared. I don’t have the space to make aloe vera work very well at my home. Especially not when I have to leave as often as I do.”
Lira sighed and shook her head, though she wore a smile through it all. “And what have you brought this time?”
“Spices, mostly. I think I’ve given you all the seeds that can be grown for your friends that are in my region.” The soft voice of Akai was something that Lira also enjoyed.
“Friends?” the man asked.
“Ano.. That’s what Miss Lira calls her plants.” Akai supplied before Lira could explain. “She has a pretty good relation with them.”
“That I do! They’re often much more easy to understand than people. Just makes them more difficult to part with.”
“Then why do you run a shop of them if you don’t want to part with them?” the man asked, scratching the top of his head in confusion.
“Other people like them, too, you know? If I were to hog them all to myself and never share them, then they don’t get to meet new people, and that’s also a pretty big shame. By the way, what’s your name? I know Akai, but not you.”
“Ah, my name is Sir Almmiir Gresintock!” he exclaimed proudly.
“‘Sir?’” Lira inquired, mildly intrigued. She also, belatedly, remembered that she was supposed to be grabbing plants for Akai, so she went about to grab some sage and aloe vera - both readily accessible - but the aloe vera was in the back of her shop presently, so she’d have to run back there for that.
“Well, maybe not right now, but soon!” he boasted, trying to puff out what small frame he had hidden beneath the chain mail to make himself look more buff than he truly was.
Lira half wondered if he was faking his prowess just as much as he faked his titles, but she didn’t let that color her voice as she said, “I see. Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir Almmiir Gresintock.”
“Likewise, Ms. Lira,” he replied, making a small bow to the herbalist.
A gentle laugh came from her lips to mask the discomfort she had towards the man’s actions. This? This was why Lira preferred interacting her real friends and not… whatever Almmiir was on about. She turned her attention back to Akai. “Well, what kind of spices did you bring me? And how many of each are you looking for?” Lira dare not pronounce more than this around her friends, though.
“Salt, peppercorns, garlic, ginger, and onion. Mostly powdered where I could manage it, so they should keep for a while. Looking for two leans of sage, four leans of aloe vera—edible if you have enough to spare, but I’ll take non-edible too. And one lean of poppy, preferably in pink.”
“Hmm. I’ll trade it for a quarter lean salt and peppercorns, half a lean of garlic and onion, and an eighth a lean of ginger. I can only spare about half a lean of edible aloe, though. You were right about that, by the way.”
Akai grinned happily. “It was a drink I sometimes saw back at home. I never tried it, though.” She pulled out several jars from the rucksack at her side - a bag Lira just happened to know Akai had made herself. With a little help from a flower sitter. “May I?” She asked, gesturing to the scale I had on the counter.
“Of course. Let me go get your friends ready. Do you need any care reminders?” Lira walked away from the counter, going to fetch the plants for the order as Akai weighed out the portions of her spices.
“No, I have them written down from last time.”
“I still don’t understand how you can read whatever it is you wrote. It was all way too complicated to me.” Lira remembered the little symbols that Akai had written on a piece of paper. The only one that made any sense to her was ツ - and even that was mainly because it just looked like a smile to Lira. Akai had to explain it to Lira, but it all went over her head so badly that Lira had to eventually wave her off.
“It’s okay. It’s a lot to try and learn, especially in a single sitting. It makes a bit more sense in my language, and sometimes doesn’t translate well or easily to your language. It’s also largely irrelevant since, as far as I know, I’m the only person in the area who speaks it. Done.” Akai put the newly filled jars on the wood counter, and waited patiently for Lira.
Not that she had to wait long, as a mere couple of minutes later, Lira set on the counter the plants that Akai had requested. It was impossible to truly weigh them, though, as the planters made that a bit difficult, but she’d worked with Akai enough to know that she was perfectly okay with that and wouldn’t even ask Lira to attempt it for her.
Which was a plus for Lira! She hated pulling her friends out of their beds just to put them on a silly scale. Akai made this all easier since she just trusted Lira. So Lira gave her extra in return. Even more extra than she was already getting, as Akai always gave her more than she asked for.
Akai nodded, taking the plants in her arms. Almmiir reached over and also took several of the plants, much to Lira’s distaste, but she kept her opinion to herself. The young guard looked far too… guardy for her to entirely feel comfortable with him handling friends. Still, Akai didn’t seem to be reaching out to stop him, which Lira was pretty sure she’d do if she didn’t trust him, so she let it be.
“Thank you very much, Ms Lira,” Akai said with a small bow over her new friends. “I’ll be sure to treasure your friends until they are needed.”
“And thank you for your continued patronage, Akai. I wouldn’t have some of these friends if not for your knowledge and supply. They’re just as much your friends as mine, as far as I am concerned.” Lira responded in kind. She waved to the two as they left, a genuine smile on her face. The powdered spices that Akai had brought her made for some excellent meals and barter options. Many in Memstats adored the spices, even with such low weights, Lira could often trade up quite a bit.
Akai had been willing to share how to make the spices she traded - Lira had even offered Akai a life time supply of one of her friends in exchange. Until she found out just how much torment she’d have to put her friends through. Then, she wasn’t okay with it. She ended up rescinding the offer, since while the knowledge she was sure was good, she wouldn’t be able to utilize it, not even to the point of disseminating it to others to utilize on her behalf. Akai had taken it in stride, saying that she would have still offered trade for what she needed anyway, sometime down the line, since it wasn’t something she felt was entirely fair to Lira.
She’d been right, of course. Lira hadn’t realized the sheer quantity of rakla Akai was going to ask for. Lira had barely been able to keep her supply up until she mentioned the potential issue to Akai. To which, Akai immediately stopped trading for it. She said she could source from someone else and didn’t want to hurt Lira’s friends like that.
Originally grateful for Akai’s understanding, Lira realized a year later that rakla not only was difficult to grow, but also that no one else really grew it like she had been. This prompted her to ask Akai about it the next time they spoke.
Turned out, rakla was convenient, so Akai preferred it, but she could use others to the same effect, just meant she had to source more friends. Lira had felt bad, but Akai insisted that she wouldn’t rely on rakla if it was a hassle to grow, and insisted that Lira not worry about it beyond what she normally grew. So Lira didn’t bother growing more of it for her. She kept with her normal amount to replenish her stores. Akai would still trade for some every now and again, but never in as high of quantity as she had when she was still newer to the friend. Maybe a lean a year.
Lira watched the pair leave, still reflecting on some of the past interactions she’d had with the supposed ‘witch.’ She didn’t subscribe to the notion that the rumors provided on her, having known of Akai before her name became more widespread. And given that Seyiki was a four week journey from Memstats, it was very much a surprise that anyone in Memstats knew of her. And a testament to what she could do, not that Lira would have guessed that Akai was the witch had Akai not told her during the last visit.
She turned her attention back to her friends, brushing her fingers along one of the rakla plants near her. The green leaves, fuzzy and wide, ruffled lightly along Lira’s fingers, and Lira imagined the plant purred at her touch, and that the blue flower that stood tall from the center enjoyed her administrations more than it enjoyed the sunlight.