“What the hell are you doing up here? Do you know what time it is?” He bellowed and stomped up the stairs; the wood creaking under the pressure. Lukas had quickly shuffled his drawings of the dream man under the bundles of paper on his desk just before his door burst open. But he couldn’t hide the ink and charcoal stains on his hands.

“I-I was working on the illustrations for my— your,” he was quick to correct himself. “Your book sir, and I lost track of time.” He kept his eyes lowered to the ground; in part to feign contrition and in part to keep Master Allwood from seeing the lie in his eyes. The last words his father had spoken to him had been to lament about his honest face.

Allwood had believed his lie but it hadn’t saved him from a sound lashing. It had taken a week before he had enough strength to grip anything properly and he was cuffed behind the ear every time he dropped something in the shop. And yet the image of that face didn’t fade.

 - - -

Lukas had started to believe the man was just a figment of his imagination until three weeks later when he appeared again; that same dark hair and those inscrutable eyes. As he examined the details and features of his face Lukas knew it was far beyond what his imagination could conjure. He considered the possibility that he had seen the man passing through town but he couldn’t accept that he wouldn’t remember someone like that, even if he only caught a glimpse of him in a crowd. But if Lukas had never met or seen the man before how did he suddenly start appearing in his dreams?

In the months following, the man would show up in Lukas’ dreams at random intervals, some times a month between, other times a week. There was a point during the spring when it was almost daily. And after each time, each appearance, his curiosity grew like a tingle that started in his chest and pooled deep in his stomach. He had so many questions and not just why this man was in his dreams. Lukas wanted to know who he was, his name, where he came from, what his favourite colour was and so much more.

He was mulling over those questions while he striped sections of willow bark. I wonder if he prefers tea or coffee. Does he drink it straight or with milk? Lukas wondered. What if he puts sugar in his coffee, Lukas shuddered and laughed out loud.

As Lukas wrapped the bark in brown paper he glanced up to the sky. The sun had fully risen over the horizon and soon the town would be waking up. He must have gotten caught up in his musing over the mystery man and lost track of time. He checked over his list; there were still a few things he hadn’t collected yet but they could wait until tomorrow. Taking a moment to clean his knife, he swung his bag on and started jogging back to town.

He was almost clear of the tree line when his foot caught on a raised tree root. He lost his balance, toppled forward and crashed into the ground, hard. Pain throbbed in his knees and down his forearms and he could taste dirt in his mouth. Lukas groaned as he gently lifted himself from the ground. He only hoped that it was still too early for anyone to be out yet— but luck was not on his side judging by the whispers and soft snickering. Maybe it would be less embarrassing if he didn’t look up he thought as his cheeks flushed red, but the sound of giggles followed him as he scurried away. He could still hear them echoing around in his head as he pulled the back door to the apothecary closed behind him. The throb in his knees had started to sting but he didn’t have time to check the damage; he didn’t even have time to unpack his bag as he dumped it in the back store room. Fortunately it didn’t feel like they were bleeding, so that was a positive; but the joints were starting to seize and burned with pain every time he moved. He added new wood to the fading coals of the fire and said a silent pray of thanks that he’d had the foresight to fill the cauldron with water last night. Then with a painful limp he staggered into the front room to open the door to the apothecary.

He hadn’t even hobbled back behind the counted before the bell above the door chimed. On reflex Lukas spun on his heels and his legs nearly buckled from beneath him; he stumbled and caught himself awkwardly on the counter.

An old man stood at the door leaning heavily against his worn cane; his head was completely absent of hair, except for his eyebrows. They were wild and bushy and currently peaked on his wrinkled forehead in surprise.

“Mr Draydon, good morning sir.” Lukas managed a wan smile as he tried to straighten himself.

“Oh my, lad; not another fall.” Old man Draydon tisked as he ran as appraising eye over Lukas, noting the scuff marks on his knees and down the front of his jacket. “Though you’ve been a clumsy one ever since you were a boy; always bruises and black eyes, and the time you broke your arm.” Draydon clucked his tongue worriedly. “You need to start taking better care of yourself.”

“Yes, I missed my footing in the forest this morning.” Lukas explained, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he flicked through the brown paper parcels on the counter. “Ah, here it is; a new batch just mixed last night.”

“Thank you lad, and make sure to pass my thanks to your master. I haven’t felt this good in years.”

“He‘ll be pleased to know his new blend is working so well.” Lukas forced his usual polite smile. In truth he would be furious if he knew that Lukas had been tempering the herbal recipes, but he would be livid if he even suspected that the new recipes were more effective. “Stay well until the next time,” Lukas said in farewell and waited until the door closed before he let out a heavy sigh.

He patted down his clothes trying to brush off some of the dirt but winced at the sting in his knees. Instead he grabbed his leather apron and hoped no one would notice.