...

It is hard to believe that this is her work space. It has been for the past decade. She is surrounded by dust that lines whatever she has not touched in months and grime that clings to messy tables as well as the stool I now sit on. This is most definitely not the anticipated space of a well trained doctor. Papers are strewn across the floor and large glass jars full of strange substances are stacked upon tattered papers. The walls are covered with shelves full of similar supplies including odd creatures that I have a blooming curiosity for. Some are preserved and dead while others still swim in murky substances. I glance at a jar on a work table where lizard-like creatures crawl across the glass prison, their sparkling wings shining in the dim light that comes from the mantle on the other side of the room.

I look across the floor at the mantle that holds a dying fire. This is the only light that prevents me from crashing into glass jars which are scattered across the floor. I deliberately place one foot in front of the other, starting to wonder if before my visits she is purposely throwing her so-called valuable information in my path. Perhaps all of this is just to antagonize me every time I enter the room. It's almost as if she is saying, ‘Stay out, walking through this disaster isn't even worth being healed.’

I approach the chair at last, sluggishly reaching for the thick stiff papers that are stacked upon it’s round seat. With the utmost care I move the papers off the chair and delicately place them onto an open space on the floor. I gently lay them on the gray stone only to be immediately smacked on the back of my head without an ounce of mercy. 

She nonchalantly mumbles something in the Mountaineer language that sounds along the lines of, silly child. I slowly sit on the splintering chair mumbling Mountaineer curses I had heard her say in the past. She shoots me a glare and I fall silent well aware that it this is my only warning before she decides not to tend to my wounds.  

I take off my cloak watching as she moves away to her work table. It is a table that is in dire need of a replacement as it wobbles with the slightest touch. Upon it’s splintering surface there is a granite bowl full of lilac liquid hidden amongst the overly crowded table. She picks up the stone bowl, the whole table shaking at the small action and three loose papers falling as she holds the bowl in one hand. She ignores the papers and walks back to me knocking down a small pile that she did not care about on the way. 

She stands beside me staring intensely at the liquid before slowly mixing it in an almost reluctant matter. Without even the slightest warning she slaps the cold medicine onto my back making me yelp in surprise. 

Robulent chuckles from the corner and I shoot him a cruel glare that no one ever saw from their beloved Crown Prince. He hastily tries to stifle his chuckle as fast as it had risen from his chest. I turn my attention back to the Healer sending her a stern glare she pay no attention to. 

“You’re not even going to check for glass!” I growl.

She pulls a handkerchief from her gray sleeve then wipes the blood off of my collarbone. “There is no glass.” She says rubbing the medicine onto my neck with a mother’s touch.

I shudder from the despicable cold contact of another person and then sigh slouching over. There is really no way she will ever show sympathy on her face unless I am on the verge of death. A bit brutal of her since she has known me since birth.
I lean my elbow against my leg and my head in my hand. “Do you think it will scar?” I grumble, itching my head.

“If you keep moving.” She retorts, now inspecting my back.

I sigh remembering I can't argue with her, for she was my mother’s closest friend and held authority over me similar to my own mother. There is no one else in all of Terra that can hit me in the back of the head with no repercussions like she did. Not to mention the horrible idea that she could leave a scar on me if she felt like it.

I begin to recollect the story my father once told me about the Healer.

She left her family in the Mountain Realm at the age of twenty deciding to travel to the Forest Realm where she met my mother. They easily became good friends due to the fact that my mother was part Mountaineer. 

With their new found friendship they traveled to the Plain’s Realm where my mother began a flower shop and the Healer became a well known herbalist. They slowly gained popularity from word to mouth and even the castle medical staff had heard of their unorthodox forms of healing. It wasn’t long before they were invited to the castle by a curious doctor. The doctor had recently been concerned with my father’s health since the Emperor had died just a year prior from a hereditary disease. My mother tagged along but then again she was just a botanist so their conversations were not ones she could relate to. So my mother did what she did best when she was bored, she wandered in search of the plants. It was on this rare occasion when my mother was exploring the gardens my father who was heart broken from losing his parents sat in the castle gardens alone. It was then he noticed my mother walking through the blooming roses. He claimed she was as pretty as the rising sun and as brilliant as a lily growing on a cliff’s edge. At first he believed her to be a fairy but then she spoke to him and her words were more humane and touching than any fairy would ever be able to mutter. In other words she appeared ethereal to him.

The Healer Sapt spoke and I was pulled away from the story I had heard all my life.

She sighs and bandages my shoulder. “Please don’t get hurt anymore.” Her words are ympathetic but her expression is still cold. 

The way she speaks makes me wonder if my perpetrator is as inevitable as fate itself.

She continues speaking as she bandaged my neck. “I only use the-” 

“Plants from my mother,” I cut her off. “I know.”  I roll my eyes.

She glances at me and then looks away. “The garden is diminishing.” She warns me.

I feel my muscles tense. 

The garden was my mother’s birthday gift from my father two years after they were married. It was a grand green house that flourished when my mother was alive. Now, it still grew but not as brilliantly as it once did. The herbs and flowers were slowly deteriorating to nothing but dry leaves and rotting roots. 

I had once tried to recover what was lost but the realization that I was not nearly the botanist my mother was led me to eventually give up.

I give a weak smile. “Carefully noted,” I nod as she finishes wrapping my neck.

“If you grow some I would be most grateful, Veran.” Her words are cool but for some reason they remind me of someone who is almost demanding a request 

I supposed I did owe the Healer that much when I weighed out every time she had taken care of me or taught me a new skill. Then again it is not a talent that the Crown prince of the Seven Realms needed. Well that was at least what my father had said when I tried to plant an orange tree three years ago.

I did not argue with him because I knew that every year since my mother died he grew to dislike the things that reminded him of her. I can only assume it is due to the fact that her death is just too painful for him to remember.

I look up at the Healer to answer her. “I would.” I nod as I look into her eyes. “But I lack the time and patience.” I lie.

She places a slender hand on the hip of her long gray dress as she stares at me in disappointment. 

She takes a breath and ignores my excuse. “Try not to do so much or you will surely get a scar,” she says while shoving me off the chair with surprising force. “I will visit you tomorrow.” 

I flex my fingedrs and wrist still feeling the strange numbness from the poisoned arrow. “Thank you.” I mumble.

She looks over her shoulder as she heads to the wooden table and nods once before ignoring my existence and returning back to work. This was just like her to be almost aggressive and calm at the same time. Although she was never cold and insensitive like she appeared. Even though she is rough with me I know she still cares about me. 

I hastily exit the room with Robulent still following after me. His close proximity makes me wonder if I appear to be a very friendly person or if he is just concerned about my safety. It is most likely the latter since he isn't trying to begin a conversation.

I glance at him and he looks at me. His eyes a shade of hazel that widen as he notices something ahead of us. I turn my attention to the long hall and notice the only other woman in the whole Empire that could boss me around like the Healer. It was my head strong older sister Copecka. 

“Veran!” She calls from the end of the long empty corridor.

My sister is a tall woman who has the elegance of a queen as she comes rushing to me. 

Never running. 

Running was too unladylike she always told me. Like girls didn’t know how to run in a dress.

Every time I saw her she looks more and more like our father with her sharp eyes, long dark hair, tanned skin and her v-shaped face. Even her tall height was like my fathers which is more than surprising since she is adopted.