Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Vaidya relaxes against his door as he lets his eyes wander his dorm. It’s a simple space for one, his bed neatly made in the back corner, books neatly stacked on his desk, a spread of sage, puffwort, and wolf meat he prepared earlier for lunch… Vaidya’s eyes trace over all their figures. He doesn’t move much, chest rising and falling at an even pace, left hand open and at his side. If you were a stranger to him, you might assume he was asleep with his narrow eyes. In his right hand is a letter neatly balanced between his thumb and forefinger.

He knows who the letter is from: the same sender as all the ones before. Vaidya breathes out for six seconds, inhales for four. It’s a pattern that always works. 

While his body is leaning against the door, Vaidya’s mind wanders. All of his thoughts spread out like bubbles, each one containing simple transient thoughts: the sage research he’s been working on, simple listings of scientific herb names, the last deliveries he went on a few days ago. Though, Vaidya’s careful to not disturb a certain bubble pertaining to the letter in his hands.

The emotion he’s feeling isn’t one he quite knows how to place. If he focuses on himself, he can feel a slight pressure in his chest. It's not the even beat of his heart, thumping along much like his breath. And Vaidya knows he’s not quite tense, if he was his hands would be shaking, or there would be beads of sweat along his forehead, though the feeling is similar. He, feels calm really, but he’s self aware enough to know that this letter in his hand has inextricably affected his mood, just like all the others.

Lightly pushing himself off the door, Vaidya goes to the side of his desk, where there’s a small black compartment. Kneeling down and pulling it open reveals a stack of neatly organised letters by send date. Vaidya slides this newest letter to the bottom of the stack. He at least has the decency to not throw them out in spite of his unwillingness to read them. As usual, in neat black ink with the edges slightly faded, is the script: “From: Naina.”

Vaidya pushes the compartment closed and stands. He moves to the kitchen, lighting a small flame to boil some water. He procures a cutting board and knife. Vaidya gets to work on the slab of wolf meat, cutting it in simple clean motions.

Vaidya doesn’t hate Naina, he really doesn’t, and if he’s being really honest he loves his sister with all his heart. With that all that said though, Vaidya would rather settle to leave these thoughts unturned.

Steam clouds the kitchen as Vaidya scrapes wolf slices into the pot. Taking clumps of puffwort, Vaidya separates the soft fluffy puffs from the leaves, each going in a separate bowl. It’s a simple motion that Vaidya’s been familiar with practically the moment he joined the postknights.

“Delivering happiness” is a suitable motto for the postknights, Vaidya thinks. Though he does wonder if there are any other receivers like him, people conflicted about their own deliveries. Since he doubles as Maille’s local alchemist, Vaidya doesn’t deliver nearly as often as some of his peers, but all of his deliveries have been met with smiles. 

After the wolf meat simmers for awhile, Vaidya drains the water and refills the pot, this time boiling the soft white puffwort clumps with the wolf meat. He then slices the sage into diagonal halves before laying them along the side of a bowl, his dark nimble hands repeating a practised routine.

While his family talents found a lot of use for his time in Maille, Vaidya always has room in his schedule for some deliveries. For all his hesitance as a trainee, Vaidya enjoys the opportunity to go out on runs. 

There’s a certain joy he gets running out on a trail. His mind relaxes. His head is heavy and light all at once, and he feels like he’s gliding with each step he takes. He relishes that feeling. Even on the odds that he runs into wildlife or raiders that same calm holds. And, he really is happy to finish deliveries.

With the stew finished simmering, Vaidya pours it out into the sage-lined bowl and sets the table for himself. It’s a simple dish for one, but Vaidya enjoys the capsid stew all the same. 

With his meal finished he goes to wash the dishes, scrubbing along to the beat of a song he hums. Setting aside now-dried dishes, he re-ties his dark hair, stretches back, and heads out the door.

When Vaidya first became a trainee, he was, overwhelmed, at just how lively Maille is. Gone was the simple calm of Violetfair, replaced with postknights running all over, the echoes of instructors ringing out. Violetfair, he learnt, is a very sleepy town compared to the rest of Kurestral. He supposes that’s how a merchant like Otto was able to set his shop in Violetfair.

The Vaidya that exists in the present however, is unfazed by the activity as he takes calm strides towards his alchemist’s booth. He lights a fire to pre boil some water, and prepares his utensils for potion infusions. With everything prepared, Vaidya heads to the back of his tent to work on his sage research.

It’s a routine he’s used to, balancing his own personal research while infusing potions for the Postknights. Prepping experiments in the back while grinding, boiling, and infusing potions in the front. 

Vaidya has a simple conjecture on his life: that he’ll never really stop being an alchemist.

It’s not a sentiment he has, any feelings towards at all really. It’s beyond any sort of like or dislike, it simply is . The same way people pass through the Halcyome, bushworms kill plantlife, and salamanders release their fiery burps; Vaidya will always be an alchemist.

He still considers himself a postknight above anything else. But, alchemy has been with him for a long time. Vaidya’s always known how to prepare various herbs for consumption, how to taste for even the slightest hint of flavours, how to balance the properties of a potion for active use. Being a postknight never had any bearing on that.

But being a postknight is, important to him, in a way he can’t place. As easy as it is for his parents to tag his current job to rebellion or spite, Vaidya has to be a postknight. The way his current duty draws him in is definite, but, Vaidya can’t tell for what. It’s more than the rush, more than the freedom of running out, more than everything he knows he enjoys about the job. It’s, something he needs to be, invariably yet inextricably.

Vaidya goes through the motions of his research, preparing textbook techniques to test properties, quill smoothly floating along a sheet of parchment as he plans his experiments out. Documenting parts of a herb is simple, the textbooks always have the techniques for that, but proper research is more than just repeating methodologies on different plants. It’s a field Vaidya’s sister is especially skilled at, intuitively feeling out potential traits of a plant and creating exact methods to test those theories.

The experiment Vaidya’s designing is simpler. He has a selection of sage leaves that he requested a postknight to pick, separating them by their origin: Pompon or Maille. He boils the sorted leaves and pours the resulting broth out onto a slope, measuring the time it takes for the fluid to flow into a basin at the end.

Vaidya noticed awhile back that the sage fibres from each region differed in strength. Building off of that, he now tests the density and viscosity of the sage’s broth. A trait that in turn prevents potion deterioration.

It’s when the basin Vaidya’s using to hold the excess broth begins to overflow that he realises that no postknights have come for his infusion services today.

Hurriedly pouring out half of the excess into a second basin, Vaidya prepares to make an energy pop shipment to Tedric’s inn. He mixes capsid honey into one now-yellow basin, while the other becomes a deeper blue with ceruleaf extract. 

He gives each sample a taste, recoiling at each. A flavour strong enough to burn Vaidya’s tongue, but just right for a sweet tooth, like a certain postknight instructor. Admittedly unsatisfied with the aftertaste, Vaidya fills bottles of energy pop to sell for later.

Stepping out of his tent, Vaidya looks down the road at his neighbours’ tents. Maggie and Tina are both nowhere to be seen. It’s quite odd, he thinks, that he’s the only one available for services. It’s rare enough for any of the trio to be away from their stands, much less two.

Has something happened? Vaidya wonders. He looks out to the rest of Maille. Postknights are running to and from the postbox as always, busily going about their deliveries. And not a single postknight stops by his stand.

On a normal day, Vaidya would task the delivery to a postknight using his infusion services; today though, no one seems to have time. I suppose I shouldn’t disturb them , Vaidya thinks. So he pulls up the stacked crates of energy pop, and heads to Tedric’s station.

The stacked crates block Vaidya’s view, but when he nears Tedrics station, he hears the low whine of the instructor. Setting down the crates, Vaidya looks towards the source of the sound. Tedric’s cap is laid at the edge of his table. The instructor himself is sprawled out over said table. Locks of his teal hair messily covers his face, and wrinkles cover his uniform as a quill is lazily balanced in his right hand.

“Would you like a drink instructor?” Vaidya asks as he takes one of the honey-flavoured energy pops. He places it by Tedrics free hand.

Tedric, still sprawled out, stares at the bottle for a beat. The next beat the postknight instructor knocks the bottle back in a single breath. 

“Has something happened, Tedric?” Vaidya offers another bottle of energy pop. It’s not everyday the cheerful instructor radiates gloom this way.

Tedric accepts the bottle and takes a deep breath, “today’s been a busy day.”

“Only a busy day?” Vaidya raises an eyebrow.

“More than just busy I guess,” Tedric takes a gulp of his second bottle, “it feels like everyone in Kurestral needs something delivered today! Maille’s mostly trainees, so it’s hard to keep up here.”

Suddenly the empty stalls made just a bit more sense, “I suppose that’s why postknights Maggie and Tina are away from their tents?”

Tedric turns over, “Is Tina gone from her stand?”

“I haven’t seen either of them this afternoon, is Tina uncalled for?”

Tedric lets out another groan. “Maggie’s been a real help with the deliveries, but I thought Tina was still at her stand…”

“It’s of no consequence, the postknights haven’t had the time to stop by for our services. Perhaps some business of her’s lined up with this busy day.” Vaidya tries to cover for his friend.

“I’d love it if her business added more hands to our work though. We need what we can get.” Tedric quips, finishing his second bottle.

Well, Vaidya always has room in his schedule for some deliveries.

Vaidya puts his palms together in front of himself. “If you’d like another pair of hands, I’d be happy to oblige.” he responds.

Tedric stares at Vaidya for a moment, like the alchemist was entirely out of his element. It never occurred to him that Vaidya could offer up some assistance. But now that he thinks about it, “Yeah, that'd be great actually, Vaidya.”

Tedric moves to the postbox, procuring a postknight scroll and some paperwork. He sets the scroll on his desk in front of Vaidya and then goes to sign the paperwork. 

“This is Sandy’s regular medicine, we forgot about it in today’s chaos though. I’m pretty sure you remember the route though.” Tedric says, finishing his signature with a flourish.

“I’ll be sure to deliver it soon then.” Vaidya responds simply, taking the scroll and putting it in his bag. He turns and jog out of Maille’s gates.

“Thanks for your help, Vaidya!” Tedric grins, giving a lackadaisical wave. He helps himself to a third bottle of energy pop.

The route to Sandy’s abode, Vaidya supposes, is one that all the trainees know. It’s an accidental consequence of her illness really. Sandy’s regularly reliant on postknight deliveries, and she lives close enough to Maille for the trainees to make the delivery safely. It’s a familiar, well-tread path through the woods, and Vaidya makes his strides at a brisk pace.

It’s that familiar feeling he loves, dashing along the path, letting the air flow in and out of his lungs. The scene itself is rather pleasing, the afternoon heat is warded by the foliage, but sunlight always sneaks through every gap the trees offer. Vaidya takes it all in, the cool air, the shade, the light, and this lovely feeling of flying that he always has.

He’s still attentive enough to hear the light rumble growing behind him though.

It’s not unexpected, the forests surrounding Maille are relatively safe, but wolves aren’t an uncommon sight. The balance of relative safety and wildlife for tension make it an ideal place to train new postknights afterall. 

Hearing the rumble, Vaidya instantly twirls around and cuts his momentum. He reaches to his sides, and draws his daggers in a simple flourish, readying himself for the source of the rumble. 

As the rumble’s thumping gets louder, Vaidya begins to eye dire wolf cubs, numbers growing by the second until a medium-sized horde is upon him. Vaidya’s a bit put off by the numbers, but he’s confident he can take them on. He puts himself in a classic position, a dagger in front, and a dagger behind, legs posed similarly. Vaidya lets his limbs relax and he's ready to strike at the first cub that attacks him. His anticipation rises with every inch closer the horde gets until…

The horde of dire wolf cubs blow right past him.

Vaidya's body stays frozen. He's in the same combat pose, but his mind's turned up blank, like his brain’s trying to correct for what happened. Yup, Vaidya doesn't have the slightest clue what just happened.

From the same direction that the wolves appeared from, comes a wild battle cry. Considering the source of the shout is what chased the dire wolf cubs, Vaidya recovers his earlier battle stance.

From the bushes, Vaidya makes out the shadow of a cane grasped with two hands. Then a head of fluffy white hair with wild eyes and a brass mouthpiece. Finally Vaidya sees the full body of the perpetrator, with a purple shepherd’s outfit padded by brass scraps of armour. 

“Get back here you sheep-eatin’ cretins!” shouts the figure as they dash past Vaidya. It’s Hettik, Vaidya remembers running a gate delivery for him once. 

The spectacle before him is, at least in some part, the training that Hettik swore to do.

Hettik suddenly stops in his tracks, and continues shouting obscenities at the long gone wolf cubs. Seeing that there’s no apparent threat anymore, Vaidya sheathes his daggers, drawing Hettik’s gaze.

Seeing Vaidya, Hettik’s eyes gleamed slightly. “Ey! Ya’re one of them postknights aren’t ya?” he calls with a hint of excitement, as if Vaidya was a newfound older sibling.

The postknight flashes a polite smile, eyeing Hettik’s still-raised cane and replies “yes, I’m Vaidya. I’m on a delivery in fact.” Vaidya holds up his bag, flashing the knightmail scroll. “And you’d be Hettik, correct? I remember delivering a gate for you once.”

“Oh! I do remember ya!” Hettik lowers the cane, and walks to Vaidya. “One of ya postknights offered to fix ma’ gate today. So I took the liberty to do some training!” he continues, putting his hands on his hips and standing proudly.

Vaidya pauses for a beat, thinking of his earlier conversation with Tedric, specifically a part regarding a certain green-haired blacksmith. “Would this postknight happen to have green hair and a dark complexion?” he asks, slightly exasperated.

A flash of recognition passes through Hettiks eyes, and he replies “Ah yeah! That’s th’ one! She offered re-in-force mah fence so I could train,” he gestures to his clumsily plastered armour, flexing his arms “even got me some equipment!”

It doesn’t take much thought at all to connect the dots really. Vaidya can see the scene play out before him. Vaidya knows Tina’s preference for blacksmithing. It doesn’t surprise him that given the opportunity, she’d take the time to find some more work on the side. More work, in this case, conveniently lining up with Hettik’s own want to train. Vaidya lets out a breath.

“... so that’s how ma’ training has been going!” Hettik exclaims proudly, hands on his hips. Vaidya hopes that it wasn’t too rude of him to lose focus, not that Hettik seems to have noticed, looking at him in expectation. He supposes it’s his turn to say something to the shepherd.

Vaidya offers a hand to Hettik. “Well, if you’re still training around Maille, would you care to join me on my delivery?” A simple resolution really, it lets Vaidya keep an eye on the shepard (not that Hettik needs much safeguarding based on the horde of wolf cubs). It sacrifices the time Vaidya has to himself on the delivery, but Hettik has even less time to spend out and about.

The slight gleam in Hettik’s eyes spark up, and Vaidya can spy a wide-mouthed smile between the gaps of Hettiks mask. It strikes him as almost odd, that someone can be so happy at such a simple offer. Hettik doesn’t even need to respond for Vaidya to know the answer, but Vaidya appreciates the warmth of Hettik’s two hands grasping his one.

If Hettik didn’t need to care for his sheep, he really would make a fine postknight. The scenario with the wolf cubs may have been a fluke, but Vaidya can tell that Hettik’s dream of becoming a knight might be a little more than just that. Hettik matches Vaidya’s pace step-by-step as they dash through the woods without so much as a pant.

The path to Sandy’s home is more peaceful than usual. It could just be Vaidya’s own speculations, but he supposes that Hettik’s “training” may have something to do with it. He glances at the focused shepard, mimicking Vaidya’s jogging down to his breathing. Vaidya is an alchemist, so he supposes every theory deserves sufficient investigation.

“Would you have happened to have encountered any Roblins in your training?” Vaidya queries.

Hettik looks up at Vaidya, maintaining his speed. “The green-skinned Ne’er-do-wells? ‘Course I did! Had to show ‘em up for messing with my flock! Shepherds honour!” he replies, pumping his cane in the air with pride. Vaidya takes care to note how Hettik’s answer didn’t slow him down in the slightest.

Vaidya raises an eyebrow. “How many would you say you ‘showed up?’” Investigation should be matched with scrutiny afterall.

Hettik sighs, “was only able to get two of ‘em.” Two’s a perfectly reasonable number, Roblins are tougher than your typical wolf but not so much so that knocking out two is a superhuman feat. “The rest got away!”

Now this gives Vaidya some pause. Not in his pace, he’s still jogging along with Hettik at his heels; but Vaidya takes a moment to process this new information. “The rest” is a vague quantifier, but if say, only one had escaped Hettik, he’d likely say “one got away!” So wording suggests that Hettik had the upper hand of at least four Roblins. Four’s less reasonable for an untrained fighter, but not nearly enough to suggest Hettik caused all the calm in the forest. So Vaidya pushes his theory a little further.

“If you can recall, how many did you encounter?”

Hettik puts some thought into his response, “hard to say, there were a lot of ‘em running about when I found ‘em. Upwards ‘ah two dozen maybe? Around th’ size as my flock,” he concludes. 

For senior postknights, twenty-four or so Roblins isn’t much of a feat. While the Roblins of Maille are a danger to newbie postknights and civilians, overall they can’t really be considered a threat, even in numbers. If Vaidya had to take a guess, that would land Hettik’s strength somewhere above that of a newly-graduated postknight. That being said, the Roblins don’t typically go so far as to fear their targets, attempting to rob even seasoned postknights like Wally or Hazel.

Pondering the scenario, Vaidya realises that he never checked Hettik for any injuries, so he stops. Hettik’s momentum throws him forward, but he too catches himself.

Setting his pack down for some medicinal herbs, Vaidya simply says “since you’ve been in a few scrapes, I hope it’s alright for me to check you for injuries” without looking up from the pack. Vaidya’s tone is polite and soft as always, but there’s the slightest force to it. It’s enough to turn Vaidya’s offer into a command.

The shepherd's compliance comes easily. Hettik sits down beside Vaidya with his legs stretched out as he watches Vaidya rummage through his bag. “That’d, be real kind of you actually, I’m a touch achey ‘round here, here, and here.” Hettik gestures around his torso, left ankle, and left shoulder.

Looking closely at Hettik, Vaidya realises he’s more roughed up than he seemed. It’s easy to get thrown off by Hettik’s demeanour, but now that he really slowed down to look at him properly, he sees the nicks in Hettik’s armour that he waved off as clumsy blacksmith work. 

“Drink this for a moment” Vaidya places a potion in Hettik’s hands. “Only a few sips though, it’s rough on your throat” It’s a special blend of Vaidya’s, different from the existing blends of red, purple, and green. It’s no more or less potent, but Vaidya can confirm its effectiveness. Seeing Hettik raise the flask to his lips, Vaidya turns back around to procure some bandages and ceruleaf. 

Hettik takes off his mask and gulps down the potion until his throat burns slightly. “Medicine too! Ya postknights can do all sorts of things, smithing, medicine, what else?” Hettik remarks with some awe. The procedures are simple, but Vaidya’s efficient movements twist the atmosphere around the normally calm postknight.

Vaidya takes back the flask. “Chew these” Vaidya shoves a couple ceruleaves in Hettiks mouth now that the mask isn’t in the way. Hettik’s eyes widen in surprise, but he happily chews the sweet leaves. The remainder of the ceruleaf is rubbed on the bandages, acting as a sort of soothing agent for when it’s applied.

Pulling up Hettik’s pant leg, Vaidya checks his ankle. It’s not bruised much, but Vaidya supposes it’s another feat of Hettik’s, to match his pace in spite of it. He wraps a ceruleaf-infused bandage tightly around it. Hettik’s leg stiffens slightly. “You’ll make the rest of the trip without any troubles, but do rest after this. It’s good to let injuries like this heal, small as they are,” Vaidya prescribes.

Vaidya repeats the same procedure for his torso and shoulder, drawing out winces from the shepard. When he finishes tying bandages, Vaidya says “You can spit out the ceruleaf now,” and smiles. “Ceruleaf helps with the pain a little, that wasn’t too much I hope?” 

Pointing his head to the side, Hettik spits out the ceruleaf. “A little tightness won’t stop me now, I’m a real knight in training!” he proclaims, jumping to his feet. Hettik pulls Vaidya up from his kneeling position. “Yer really something you know that? Do all you postknights have some sorta side-job? I might really be able to be a shepard knight!”

Catching himself from stumbling, Vaidya replies “I believe I’m an exception.” Vaidya releases his hands and goes to repack his bag while Hettik twists his ankle around.

“That green-haired lady sure knows a lot about fixin’ things up though.” Hettik rolls his shoulder in a wide circle.

“She’s an exception as well.” Vaidya closes his pack, pulling at it to ensure it’s secure.

“How about those ladies running the shop? The white-haired and purple-haired ones? I heard they’re hard bargainers!” Hettik stretches his back out, testing to see how far he can pull his body.

Vaidya lets out an amused sigh. “Well, putting it like that does make it seem like we postknights have a lot on our hands.” Vaidya pulls his pack around his shoulders once more. “Shall we continue?”

“Of course!” Hettik drops his exercises and skips to Vaidyas side. The two go back on the trail to Sandy’s house.

While none of his injuries actually healed themselves, Hettik is wholly reinvigorated by the stop. When before he matched Vaidya’s pace, Hettik’s skipping ahead, practically dancing as they run.

“Ya sure I haven’t healed? It’s a bang up job ya did” Hettik does a clumsy spin mid run, showing off his invigoration.

Vaidya smiles back. “It’s a temporary solution, but it’s enough for our trip.” Being honest, Vaidya’s very impressed with Hettik, running on injuries, even minor ones, is hard, but Hettik makes it effortless. Not to mention Hettik’s apparent intimidation factor, whatever he did has left the entire trip rather peaceful. “Would today be your first time doing any sort of training? You’re rather hardy for a beginner.”

“Aw shucks,” Hettik scratches the back of his head, but keeps up his pace. At the right angle, Vaidya can see hints of red between gaps in his mask. “Yer just flatterin’ though, I’m just a shepard, it’s my first day out an’ about afterall, I got these injuries an’ everything too…” Hettik rambles.

Vaidya cuts him off, “I do mean it though, being a shepherd isn’t indicative of your strength.” Hettik slows down to a walk, looking back at Vaidya. Vaidya slows down with him and continues, “You’re persistent, in a way that most of our trainees aren’t. Injuries aren’t a telltale sign that you’re weak either. You can still match my pace despite them. You’re perfectly capable of being like us.”

Ahead, the forest begins to clear, and the edges of Sandy’s house become clear. “See? You made it, a postknight’s delivery.” Vaidya smiles, satisfied.

The pair walk up to the house. Vaidya hands the postknight scroll to Hettik. “The procedure’s simple. Unroll the scroll and the medicine will come out,” Vaidya instructs.

Sandy’s home has a simple design, green walls and a brown roof. What really catches Vaidya’s eyes is a generous flower garden blooming at the side of it. Looking at it carefully, he can see a brown-haired woman watering the flowers. Sandy looks up at the duo as they approach.

Vaidya stops and presses his hands in front of him. “A pleasure to see you Sandy, we’re here with your medicine.” Hettik unseals the scroll, and a basket of herbs is released, landing gently on a patch of grass beside the garden.

Sandy gives a polite smile, “it’s good to see you again Postknight Vaidya.” She faces Hettik, “I don’t believe we’ve met, are you a new trainee?”

“Naw, nothing like that, he’s just been training me t’day!” he remarks pridefully, pumping his cane in the air. Vaidya’s rather touched that Hettik’s put so much faith in him.

“That’s an exaggeration,” Vaidya corrects, “I just invited him to join me on my delivery.” 

Sandy sets her bucket down. “Well, since you two came all this way, would you like to rest here for awhile?” Taking off her gloves, she smiles and says, “it’s no trouble.”

Sneaking a glance at Hettik’s ankle, Vaidya responds, “as long as it’s no trouble,” pressing his hands in front of himself in thanks.

“Let’s just call it a ‘thank you’ for delivering my medicine.” Sandy strolls past the pair, picking up the basket on the way. Hettik follows right behind her, heading into her house.

Vaidya doesn’t join them immediately. He turns to the garden Sandy’s working on, a new sight since he last delivered her medicine. It’s a simple garden really, long planter boxes tall enough to work without bending over. The flowers are neatly organised by box, a mix of white and purple in one box, an even blue spread in another box, in yet another is a dazzling yellow speckled by greens, 

“Are you joining us? Vaidya?” Sandy calls from the door. Hettik, too, glances at his temporary instructor. Breaking out of his stupor and turning to them, Vaidya hurries in to join them.

Whenever Vaidya had delivered Sandy’s medicine, he realised he never actually entered the woman’s house. It was always somewhere outside, in her yard or the adjacent forest. Not to say that the house itself stands out. It’s a perfectly regular home, with dark brown floorboards of hardy wood, and the same tint of green paint on the inside as the outside. The floor and its furnishings are all rather tidy, practically brand new save for some light wear on the varnish from time. Vaidya supposes the home’s neatness is indicative of how little Sandy has to do normally. Or, perhaps, can rather than has .

It’s a single-bedroom house with a guest space, a dining table, a rocking chair, the kitchen, they all share the same cozy open space. Only in a hallway to the back are two closed doors for the washroom and bedroom.

“Please, take a seat, I’ll prepare tea” Sandy gestures to the seats in the guest space. The pair both go to take their seats by a low coffee table. Vaidya glances at Sandy, she’s left the basket of medicinal herbs on the counter. The cooking fire is lit as Sandy fills a couple pots with water.

Looking at his partner, Vaidya thinks that Hettik has found the table rather interesting. Hettik’s eyes are slightly lowered towards the table, with his back straight and knees together, hands rested neatly on his thighs; Hettik plays the role of shy guest better than the loudmouthed shepard from earlier.

Sandy calls from the kitchen, “do either of you have any preferences?”

“If you have it, evercheer tea is a personal favourite of mine,” Vaidya calls back. Vaidya glances at Hettik. His posture is just like before, but all the stiffness is multiplied. Hettik’s gaze edges towards the floor, he’s pressing his knees together, and leaning forward, pushing his hands into his knees. “And peach tea will do just fine for Hettik,” Vaidya answers for his partner.

Sandy’s pitch rises slightly, she sounds pleased. “Lucky you, there are evercherries in the pantry. And I have a pitcher of peach tea ready.” At the edge of Vaidya’s peripheral, he sees Hettik glance over at him with wonder for handling the situation.

While Sandy prepares tea, there’s a sort of peace in the air. Beside him, Hettik seems to have relaxed, tension flowing out of his body as he looks all around the house now. Meanwhile, Sandy hums a simple tune as she goes about her work, there’s a smile on her face as she goes about the task.

Taking the chance to reflect, Vaidya thinks it’s quite unexpected for him to end up in this situation. Not that he has any complaints, of course. He enjoyed it. It’s, been fun. For all the time he has set aside for deliveries, it’s not so often that he actually gets to set out on one. Since he doubles as Maille’s alchemist, he supposes he’s a low priority for being sent out. Though looking at his company, he thinks that this delivery is a special case anyway, not that he minds.

The window on Vaidya’s side has a good view of Sandy’s garden. Looking out the window, he sees the selection of colours once more. Despite his aptitude for researching herbs, Vaidya realises he doesn’t know very much about flowers. It’s like a odd gap in his knowledge, there’s no distinct line between what is an “herb” and what is a “flower” afterall. The two labels intersect every so often, fireblooms and moonbuds come to mind. But these perfectly normal flowers are outside his sphere of knowledge. Can he even say for sure they’re perfectly normal? All of this research is just figuring out how certain herbs can help or hurt people, has some alchemist from way back tried and just not recorded it? Or has no one even thought of trying?

Vaidya’s musing is interrupted by three gentle tinks of glass tapping wood. He looks over to see the table’s set: two glasses of peach tea for Hettik and Sandy, and for Vaidya, a single glass of deep red evercheer tea.

Looking up, Vaidya gives his thanks to the hostess. She smiles back, and takes her seat.

To his side, Hettik is undoing his mask. Facing him, is Sandy looking expectantly at him. So Vaidya picks up the glass and takes a sip.

It’s a familiar taste. That in of itself is of no surprise to Vaidya. Evercheer tea is a drink of his hometown afterall. What really gets Vaidya is how right it tastes. As if it was taken directly out of Miles’ kitchen back in Violetfair. It’s, sweeter than he’s used to, he can tell that much, but everything is there: the familiar tang, the feel of his muscles relaxing, the fullness of the evercherries. 

Vaidya supposes he might be a bit homesick.

He puts up a smile, “it’s good, I’m impressed, Sandy.” The hostess relaxes herself. Meanwhile, Hettik’s mask is off now, and he takes a sip for himself. 

There’s a glimmer in his eye when the palish orange liquid hits his tongue. The edges of his mouth raise slightly. The bottom of his glass goes up a bit higher, and Hettik drinks it down heartily. An empty glass is placed on the table as the shepherd lets out a breath. 

Hettik sports a bright grin, with a little bit of orange liquid on his upper lip. “You’re a real good cook! I’ve never had anything like this back on the farm.” Leaning towards the table he continues, “Peach Tea was it? I never knew tea could be so sweet!” Turning back to Vaidya, Hettik says “and you! How’d you know I’d like it?”

Vaidya shrugs his shoulders with a slight smile “it seemed like a popular choice.” A moment involving a certain sweet-toothed postknight instructor and ‘marketability’ comes to mind.

“If I can ask,” Vaidya starts, tilting his head to the side. Sandy looks up. Facing her, Vaidya continues casually, “How did you come to learn how to brew evercheer tea? It’s not the sort of thing you’d learn to do easily here in Maille, especially not this well.” Sandy smiles from the compliment

“You know that I’m sick,” Vaidya nods in affirmation. Sandy’s smile lessens slightly, “there isn’t very much to keep me busy here. It gets a bit frustrating at times, so I’ve been trying to learn. Not just cooking but, in general.” She inclines her head slightly.

Hettik seems saddened by her reaction. Like it seems wholly wrong to him. But he doesn’t say anything.

“If, nothing else, your efforts bore fruit.” Vaidya manages after a pause. “It’s, similar to how others made evercheer tea back in Violetfair. You’d be their equal.” He puts up a smile, a genuine one too. His tongue might have phrased it clumsily, but he really does mean what he said.

Out of the blue, somewhere in Vaidya’s mind, an idea comes. “If, it’s alright with you actually, would it be possible for you to teach me? I, never learnt how to prepare it before I left Violetfair.” It’s the truth. For all of the experience Vaidya has in alchemy, and all the ways those skills translate to cooking, he hasn’t the slightest clue how to brew a cup of evercheer tea.

Although he was silent for a period, Hettik pipes up as well. “If yer gonna teach ‘im to make some tea, I want to learn as well!” he says, jumping out of his chair, palms flat on the table.

Taken aback by the pair’s requests, Sandy’s eyes widen the slightest bit and she leans back into her chair. A beat passes and Sandy recovers. With a glimmer in her eyes, she holds back some excitement and replies “if you’d like we can do it right now.”

“If it’s no trouble of course,” Vaidya replies.

“None at all,” Sandy smiles.

The three rise and head to the kitchen. It’s both better stocked and better organised than his affair at home; a perfectly nice and tidy kitchen.

“If one of you could help me out, there are peaches and evercherries in the icebox over there,” Sandy gestures to a cabinet under her counter. Hettik immediately jumps to the task, scurrying to the icebox in search of fruits. “And you can get the tea leaves, Vaidya. They’re in a box on the second highest shelf of the pantry. There’s a stool if you need it,” Sandy continues. Sandy herself goes to light the cooking fire.

Vaidya opens the pantry. He’s a touch taken aback by how well-stocked it is. Tracing his eyes from bottom to top, he sees an arsenal of utensils, a tidy spice rack, bags of grains, sugar and salt, pots and pans, a collection of herbs, until his eyes reach the second highest shelf, where a small green box proudly stands. He takes it. Sandy keeps herself busy , Vaidya supposes with tea in hand.

Vaidya closes the pantry. Turning to the others, he sees Sandy helping Hettik pick out fruits from the icebox. Vaidya imagines Sandy’s icebox similarly stocked as the pantry, and lets them take their time. He decides to watch the cooking flames for Sandy, setting aside the green box. There are two of them, one standing taller than the other, but the second perfectly bright as well; two bright orange siblings burning together.

Sandy and Hettik return with a bag of peaches and a basket of evercherries. Vaidya takes the basket off of Sandy’s hands. “Time for the lesson to begin?” To which Sandy nods in affirmation.

She takes two pots of water and places them over the flames. “The bigger flame’s for the tea leaves. Evercherries are already good for your stamina, so evercheer tea doesn’t actually use tea leaves.” 

When the pot over the larger flame bubbles slightly, Sandy opens the green box and takes out a sizable scoop of tea leaves. She sprinkles them into the pot. Hettik perks up slightly in recognition, and asks “ain’t this just normal tea? I have this on the farm.” The aroma’s not new Vaidya either. It’s a common cheap tea for most common folk, making it also happen to be a familiar pick-me-up on long nights–before the advent of energy pop at least (as Vaidya likes to leave himself an unsweetened sample).

“Peach tea isn’t really, well, peach tea . It’s more like mixing tea with peach juice. Peaches on their own can’t really make tea.” Sandy answers, taking a spoon and giving the pot a quick stir. “But the two mixed together do make a nice drink,” she adds cheerfully.

While Sandy explains, Vaidya goes to inspect the basket of evercherries. Rather than the typical bright red that most evercherries exhibit, the evercherries in the basket are a darker maroon. Using plucked evercherries as well, Vaidya thinks, Sandy’s certainly done her research . Not exactly cheap either.

“We can let the tea here steep for a bit now,” Sandy says. She covers the pot with its lid. She heads to Vaidya and opens her palm, “may I?” 

“Of course,” Vaidya hands her the basket and follows her back to the stove.

“It’s easy to use too much heat on evercherries.” Sandy holds her palm flat, around twenty centimetres over the fire. “If you can feel a little bit of warmth around here, then it should be enough.” Vaidya and Hettik copy her motion. The slightest bit of heat from the flame reaches Vaidya’s hand, and Vaidya holds its warmth to memory.

“Actually, since evercheer tea is one of your favourites…” Sandy offers the basket back to Vaidya, “would you like to take over the preparations? I can lead you.”

Well, there’s always time to learn something new, it’d be good for Vaidya to learn, anyhow. “That’d be lovely, thank you.” Vaidya accepts the basket with a smile.

“First, you just want to let the evercherries heat up in the water. The heat’s weak enough that you don’t have to worry about burning yourself, but it’s still hot.” Vaidya follows her instruction, taking the evercherries one-by-one and dropping them into the hot water. He shifts the pot around, letting the evercherries float about.

To the side, Hettik stands there and watches them with awe. He put his mask back on sometime when they were preparing for the cooking lesson. But underneath his mask, his mouth is in a small o shape. For how simple the task is, Hettik maintains an attentive gaze, like Vaidya and Sandy are pulling gold strings out of the air. 

Despite the attention he pays them, Hettik doesn’t notice Vaidya turn his head back at him.

“Care to join us?”

Hettik’s eyes lose focus for a moment, before locking with Vaidya’s. It’s as if he never even considered that both of them could go through the motions at once. But after a beat, he jumps at the opportunity, making a noise of affirmation–a sort of high pitched hum that grows as his face brightens up.

From there, the trio end up going at a nice rhythm. For his familial talents as an alchemist, Vaidya only knows a few basic recipes. Despite that, he’s able to follow Sandy’s instructions at a relaxed pace (though he can’t say he doesn’t feel at least a bit of pride for knowing some of Miles’ tricks now). Meanwhile, Hettik is less elegant, demanding most of Sandy’s attention. With Sandy as a guide though, he’s able to go through all the motions. The trio is all smiles as they go along: peeling the heated evercherries, juicing the peaches, toasting the evercherry peel, cooling the green tea, crushing peeled evercherries…

It's a nice change of pace, Vaidya thinks as he strains bits of evercherry out of his pot. Usually when Vaidya goes about his work it’s on his lonesome. He, can’t really say he works well with people. 

That’s, not quite true though.

Because, well, he does remember a time where he did work with someone. There’s a time in Vaidya’s beginner stages of alchemy, when learning was a joy, and especially learning with that someone was a joy. It’s part of Vaidya’s conjecture, that he’ll always be an alchemist. And yet, on the tail end, it’s part of why Vaidya has to be a Postknight, running out on his family to Maille. A certain collection of letters in a small black compartment back in Maille come to mind.

He stops himself though, setting that thought aside. Instead settling into the cozy company he’s found himself with.

Looking over, Vaidya sees that the peach tea is finished, if not yet chilled. The original pitcher of peach tea was conveniently finished beforehand. On his side, the flame burns brighter now that the easily burnt evercherry flesh is done away with, replaced with the toasted peel and some residue leaves.

Taking a survey of the kitchen, it’s a much messier ordeal now. Suddenly the pristine counter and utensils all seem quite well-used now. It’s not a bad thing though, Vaidya thinks. Down the aisle, Hettik stumbles with a beaker of unchilled peach tea, and Sandy saves that beaker in the same beat. They look like they’re having fun.

Counting precisely one hundred fifty seconds after steeping the tea with evercherry peel, Vaidya strains the liquid again. He gives the fruits of his labour a taste. 

It’s good. Not as dense as the cup Sandy was able to serve him, and definitely nowhere near the perfected art of Miles, but it’s good. Certainly bounds above his own attempts at copying the drink to Miles’ laughter. For that alone, Vaidya thinks he’s satisfied.

“How’d it turn out?” Sandy asks from behind. 

“It’s good.” Vaidya’s reply is short, but Sandy seems convinced by how at peace he seems. 

Huh, now that Vaidya thinks about it, “you never told me ‘how’ you learnt the recipe, only ‘why,’ now that I think about it. Is it alright if I pry?”

Sandy pauses, thinking back to when Vaidya asked earlier before realising. “Oh! My mistake. Have you heard of that famous chef Fortuna?” Vaidya nods. “She was lost here some time ago, and ended up here, so I gave her directions.” The edges of her mouth point upwards at the memory. “In return, she taught me a few recipes she picked up in her travels for a few days. It was really sweet of her.” 

Vaidya pauses for a moment at the mention of “a few days.” He’s never met Fortuna, but, from what he heard of Wally and Hazel’s mentions, she didn’t seem the type. She’s always running from town to town in search of culinary discoveries. But he digresses, “her lessons certainly paid off then. Quite lucky for someone like Chef Fortuna to be your teacher though.” He says with a smile.

“On the subject of cooking…” Sandy starts, “would you two like to stay for dinner?”

Vaidya looks to Hettik, who watches the icebox in anticipation. Eying a strip of bandage slipping out of Hettik’s left pant leg, Vaidya answers “if it’s no trouble of course.”

Sandy repeats the loop with a smile, “none at all.”

From there, Hettik jumps into the conversation. “Could ya teach me to cook like ya did with the tea?” he asks, apparently inspired by Vaidya asking in his stead. Faltering slightly, he adds “er, or if you just need some help in the kitchen…”

Both Sandy and Vaidya’s expressions brighten in amusement. “Some help would be lovely,” Sandy replies, “would you like to join us as well, Vaidya?”

“If it’s alright, I’ll just sit down for now.” Vaidya answers.

“Then that’s just fine,” Sandy and Hettik go to prepare the meal. Meanwhile Vaidya goes to take a seat and watch the duo. He takes sips of evercheer tea between pauses.

Across the house, Sandy and Hettik seem to be discussing dish choices. From across the room, Vaidya hears Sandy listing off dishes but not quite what the dishes are. At one of the options, Hettik suddenly shouts out “that’s th’ one!” Some nondescript murmuring follows, with both of them seeming satisfied with the option. 

For the short time the two had to know one another, they’ve really gotten along. Though if Vaidya thinks on it, it makes sense. There’s something endearing about how Hettik goes about his day, Vaidya noticed. As easily as he can shake off the compliments, the awe Hettik expresses at everything makes you feel special. It certainly does wonders for someone at Sandy’s disposition, Vaidya thinks. It’s a thought that’s been building up since Vaidya saw Sandy’s garden, but, Sandy seems a bit lonely. It makes sense, of course, living alone with an illness isn’t exactly conducive to a social life. But, seeing the massive garden, sitting in the perfectly orderly house, a pantry stacked to the brim with all sorts of ingredients, all lead to that conclusion. To that end, Vaidya wonders how often Sandy gets visitors that aren’t just her medicine deliveries. The chef comes to mind.

The evercheer tea has put him in a bit of a dreamy mood, Vaidya supposes, taking another sip. 

Focusing on the pair in the kitchen, Vaidya watches Sandy guide Hettik’s hands as they slice a pair of fishes. After Sandy finishes guiding the shepherd through the first fish, Hettik tries his hand at attacking the other. 

Vaidya wonders what he’s actually doing. He can’t say Tedric will be all too pleased at his disappearance (assuming, of course, he notices in the rush). That said, he doesn’t really have the will to head back. It's too… wondrous here , like he’s inside this whole new world that wasn’t there before.

Side-by-side, Sandy and Hettik fry the fish. Vaidya lets himself be a bit amused by the Hettik’s smaller, safer frying pan. It’s not amusement from judgement, it just seems like it fits him so well. Like the frying pan found its way into Sandy’s kitchen by some grander force of destiny, specifically for this moment. The frying pan even has a brass rim, perfectly matching Hettik’s armour scraps! Oblivious to Vaidya’s imagination, Hettik gives his slice of fish a dutiful flip, copying his instructor proudly.

The scent wafts its way over to Vaidya’s side of the house. Vaidya recognizes it as cod. Knowing Hettik, there’s only one dish that really makes sense. Sandy seasons both of their frying pans. From Vaidya’s perspective, he sees blurs of green drop out of Sandy’s hands, though he recognizes the smell as sage. 

Pushing his gaze to other parts of the house, Vaidya eyes a bookshelf. He trails over the contents lazily with his eyes. Like the rest of Sandy’s home, the bookshelf is packed tightly. Immediately Vaidya can recognize origami figures, knick-knacks, potted plants, and a sewing kit. Of course there are books too. Mostly instructional manuals actually. There’s a distinct lack of novels lining Sandy’s shelves, Vaidya notes, trailing over sewing, cooking, crafts, and gardening guides.

On the third shelf from the top, seventh book from the left, is one that Vaidya is very familiar with actually. It’s a simple maroon tome. The spine isn’t even labelled. Even then, Vaidya knows that the cover will read “Herbs by Naina.”

There’s the slightest pressure that builds in Vaidya’s chest. It’s enough that Vaidya can feel it, though to any outsider he’d look calm as always. The same heavy pit forms, weighing down his mind. It maintains its pressure, and Vaidya’s mind goes into a slight blur.

So he inhales.

And exhales.

He knows. He knows that he should face this problem head on, or just grow up, stop letting it bother him, or talk to her for once, maybe at least read those letters, heck maybe giving up on alchemy is enough at this point is easier or even–

He inhales.

And exhales.

He’s just not ready to handle those thoughts. He sets them aside in a neat little compartment in his head.

By the time he glances back to the kitchen, Sandy and Hettik are finished preparing three servings of Knight’s Cod.

“Sorry for the wait.” Sandy sets a tray on the table.

“Not at all.” Vaidya smiles, without a trace of his earlier tension. He takes a sip of evercheer tea.

Hettik plops down beside him, setting down a pitcher of now-chilled peach tea. “I heard you knights liked this stuff!” he exclaims. “And ah’ wanted to try it for myself,” he adds, a little quieter. 

“Yes, it’s quite popular among the postknights.” Vaidya answers, pressing his hands together in front of him. “Thank you for the meal.”

Sandy and Vaidya work together to set the table while Hettik struggles with his mask for a moment. With everyone prepared, they begin their meal.

“Reminds me actually, how many of you postknights are exceptions?” Hettik asks. 

Vaidya pauses for a second, thinking about his colleagues. “More than a few I suppose,” he concedes. “It’s not unnatural to pick up a hobby though, being a postknight has never been the only thing we could do.” He adds.

“Do ye have any postknights with shepherding as a hobby?” 

Vaidya considers his answer for a moment. “We don’t have any postknights doubling as shepherds.” He starts. “That being said though, there’s no reason a shepherd can’t be a postknight. Though, being a postknight can keep you quite busy, so someone would need a tight schedule to do both.”

Hettik considers this for a moment. “So I just need to plan out my time!” He takes a bite out of the salmon, relishing the taste.

“I take it you two keep yourselves busy then?” Sandy asks. Her tone’s the slightest bit more careful. 

“Yeah! He knows all sorts of alchemist-y medicine-y stuff, and I’m a shepherd!” Hettik answers proudly. “What sorts of things do you get up to all th’ way over here?”

Sandy pauses for a moment before pointing her gaze downwards. “There’s, not very much I have to do really. I’m sick, so I can’t work jobs the same way other people do. The postknights usually deliver everything I need for me.” Between pauses, the corner of her lip is tucked in from biting it. “So I guess, realistically speaking, there’s not much I can really do.”

“That’s not really the truth though.” Vaidya pipes in. “You’re, doing a lot.” Sandy looks up at him. Vaidya continues, “it’s not really my place, but I’ve been paying attention.” He gestures to the kitchen, “You certainly cook better than most of Maille if you’ve been taught by Chef Fortuna.” He points his arm back to the bookshelf, “and I’m sure that you have a wide collection of skills if your book collection is anything to go by.” Meeting her eye, Vaidya finishes “You’re plenty capable.”

“Not capable enough to take care of myself though.”

Oh, Vaidya thinks. He can’t really respond to that, he delivered the medicine afterall.

After a beat, Sandy continues. “I know that there’s a lot I can do. And I appreciate it, I really do.” She takes a deep breath. “But, I know it’s not really anything. When it comes down to it, my life’s in the Postknight’s hands. That’s not a bad thing of course. But no matter what I can do, I’ll still be trapped like this. I’m not strong enough to be on my own.”

It’s not like Vaidya can’t relate. He’s sure at least a part of his feelings towards a certain book on Sandy’s shelf is proof of that. Being capable, being borderline enough . Those sorts of thoughts, he thinks, are at least part of why he hasn’t written home. He can’t help but feel guilty for trying to challenge these feelings of Sandy.

“That’s not something any a’ us can do though.” Hettik pauses, as if the words came out before he could even register those thoughts. After taking some time, he continues “as a shepherd, I always need th’ postknights to help me deliver backups for mah gate. Even right now, a postknight’s guarding mah sheep for me!” He points at Vaidya, “heck, he had t’ bandage me up on our way here!” 

The shepherd takes a gulp of his peach tea before continuing. “Sick or not, yah gotta rely on someone eventually... Unless yer one of ‘em hermits ah guess.” He scratches his head sheepishly, thinking of how to continue. Eventually he decides “But, I don’t think you want to be alone!” he says, quietly adding “I certainly wouldn’t.” Hettik looks away.

It makes sense. The logic clicks. Cause and effect, company to reliance. It's easy to get caught up in what you can’t do. Even without the medicine deliveries, Sandy would still rely on the Postknights for her books, ingredients, and whatnot. Strong as Hettik seems to be, the gate still has to keep guard for him. And for Vaidya, the image of old experiments with his older sister comes to mind.

In the following silence, Hettik’s smile falters as he sinks into his seat. Sandy speaks up, “I guess I’ve never really thought about it like that.” She takes a moment to hesitate, but continues, “I’m, sorry about all that. I guess it’s been weighing on me for awhile. Sorry, and, thank you Vaidya, Hettik.” she smiles.

Vaidya exhales, letting out some tension that was sinking into his body. “It’s perfectly fine, I can’t say I handled that particularly well either.” He faces Hettik, “Hettik deserves most of the thanks really.” In return, Hettik’s childlike grin returns with a hint of pride.

After that, the meal continues at its original pace. The trio exchange casual banter as they eat their meal. Sandy’s lessons from Chef Fortuna were definitely not a waste. The cod they’re dining on certainly beats out Maille’s Inn. They fall into a nice pattern of Vaidya and Sandy chatting about various topics while answering any of Hettik’s questions. Herbs in particular are a focus.

When the sky begins to turn its orange-red hues, the trio have finished their dinner. The two guests are finished packing. They only get a little bit out the door when Sandy stops them. “If you could wait a moment, I’ll leave some gifts for you.” She says, and hurries to her flower garden.

“Hey, postknight. Do you think she’s okay?” Hettik asks.

It catches Vaidya a bit off guard. Though he supposes that it is a bit unfair of him to assume Hettik would just forget about how the dinner started. “She’ll be fine.” Vaidya answers after a beat, “it’s like you said isn’t it? She’s already amazing.” 

An idea pops into Vaidya’s head. “Though I do think she’d like some company from time to time…” he says, angling his head in a thoughtful pose.

“Then I’ll just hafta visit more!” Hettik exclaims. “Though it’ll be hard for me to leave mah sheep alone too often.” He adds, somewhat dejected.

Vaidya says nothing, but there’s a nice little throb in his chest from thinking about his idea. He just hums a quiet tune as they wait for Sandy to return.

After a few minutes pass, Sandy returns with a bouquet of bright yellow flowers. “These are from my garden.” she says, handing the bouquet off to Vaidya. “Er, that postknight instructor of yours delivered some flowers to me some time ago. The flowers I have here are actually from their seeds. There was a note about enjoying the time I have left. It sort of stuck with me, It’s part of why I picked up all those hobbies actually…” She trails off.

Vaidya takes the bouquet. “They’re lovely,” he says. “What type of flowers are these?”

“Yellow Poinsettias, they represent childish joy and innocence.” Sandy has a thoughtful look for a moment. She plucks a flower out of the bouquet and walks up to Hettik. From Vaidya’s viewpoint, he can’t quite see what she’s doing until she steps away.

When she does step away, Vaidya sees the flower Sandy plucked tied to the side of Hettik’s mask. The strong yellow hue of the flower blends pleasantly with the brass covering, and the extra volume it provides helps frame Hettik’s face nicely.

“It suits you,” Vaidya says, smiling.

“It really does,” Sandy agrees.

In response Hettik just pulls his mask up higher, hiding a flushed face.

Sandy, seemingly just remembering something, leans to Vaidyas ear. “Vaidya, could I ask for a favour?” she whispers. “I’d like the postknights to stop delivering medicine for me.”

… What?

Vaidya opens his mouth to respond, but Sandy cuts him off. “I know. But this is something that I want to try for myself. I’ve been studying herbs. I’ve picked enough herbs to take care of myself for two weeks actually. So, I want to try to do it without deliveries. I’ll have a letter prepared in case anything goes wrong.”

She takes a breath and focuses on an odd spot in the grass. “I know what Hettik said. But that doesn’t mean I can’t try for myself. And even if it works out, I’ll still be relying on the Postknight services.”

Thinking back to a certain book Vaidya saw in Sandy’s home, it makes sense. There’s, no real doubt to be had logically. Sandy’s, really capable, Vaidya’s sure she’s studied herbs just as hard as she’s studied cooking and gardening. And, well, there’s no better book to guide her than “Herbs by Naina,” Vaidya can attest to that much.

And it’s not really Vaidya’s place to stop her.

So he agrees.

Energised by tea and cod, Vaidya and Hettik make the dash to Hettik’s farm easily. It’s not often that Vaidya is out in the evening, but he almost regrets missing the chilly evening air power through his lungs. The company’s nice too , he thinks, bouquet in hand.

Tina’s just sort of, sitting there on the fence, back turned to the duo. For the little he knows about Tina’s craft, he doubt’s Tina spent all that time working on the fence. If Vaidya takes a guess, she’d feel guilty if she left Hettik’s flock unattended.

Behind her, he presses his palms together in his usual motion and says “A pleasure to see you, Tina.”

The blacksmith hits the grass with an undignified squawk. Vaidya gives the display a chuckle.

Tina pulls herself up. “Sup… Vaidya,” she manages after a groan. Pulling herself up, she continues, “didn’t think you were type for pranks.” Using her fingers, she brushes green grass out of green hair. After patting down her clothes, she looks at the bouquet with a raised eyebrow, “that a gift for someone?”

“Well yes, it was actually a gift for me.” Vaidya adjusts his hold on the bouquet.

“Didn’t think you were much of a charmer either.” Tina flashes a smirk, hopping back onto the fencepost.

“Nothing like that, it’s more of a sentimental gift. I was delivering for Sandy today.” Vaidya returns. 

Tina pauses for a moment, “today isn’t your day for deliveries is it? Actually, what are you doing here? We aren’t exactly on the path from Sandy’s place to Maille.”

“The stands in Maille are closed. Today’s been a rather busy day for the Postknights, so our colleagues don’t have time for our services.” Vaidya answers.

“Tedric’s gonna be on my case, huh?” Tina says, unimpressed. “That doesn’t answer the other question though,” she adds.

“Well, I happened to come across a certain shepherd on my way.” Vaidya makes a graceful slide to the side, revealing Hettik in all his flowered glory.

Tina gives herself a moment to take in the sight. “I like the flower,” she shoots a finger gun at Hettik and winks.

“Thank you! And thank you for watching ma’ flock, PostKnight!” Hettik gives two dutiful bows.

“No need for the formalities, it’s Tina. And it’s no problem either, junior.” she responds. “How’d that training of yours go anyway?”

Hettik flexes his arm in a show of pride. “I got to whoopin’ some a’ them wolves and Roblins out there!”

Tina laughs back, sporting a grin. “Hah! Way to show it to ‘em!” She looks up at the sky, seeing that it’s evening. “Though I guess it’s time for us to make our leave, huh Vaidya?” Tina hops off the fence and stretches back. She takes a few steps towards Vaidya.

“I suppose so. Take care Hettik.” Vaidya pushes his usual gesture towards Hettik once more before turning back to head on his way.

“Safe travels, Postknights!” Hettik calls as Tina and Vaidya go on their way. He’s still waving until the two postknights are out of sight.

On the way back Tina asks, “how did you end up running into him anyway?”

“It’d be more accurate to say he’s the one who stumbled upon me. But I invited him to join me for my delivery.” Vaidya answers.

“He slow you down that much?”

“Not at all. Sandy invited us as guests, so we stayed awhile.” Vaidya answers. “You’d be surprised to learn he’s quite strong.”

“Huh, didn’t think you’d be training the guy seriously.”

“I wasn’t really, but I can infer. He made the entire trip back on an injured ankle, if that convinces you at all.” A thought passes by Vaidya. “Speaking of the shepherd, may I ask something of you?”

“Fire away.”

“How often do you suppose his gates need to be replaced?”

Tina raises an eyebrow and answers “once a week, give or take. The wolves and Roblins do a number on it, so it doesn’t take too long before it needs some touch ups. Suddenly have a vested interest in engineering or something?”

“Nothing like that.” Vaidya hums innocently. “I was wondering if you could be in charge of Hettik’s deliveries and repairs.”

“That’s an odd request.” Tina raises an eyebrow, showing interest.

“Well, it’s frequent enough for your quota, and if you work on the installations it’ll give you more handiwork practice.”

Tina chuckles. “You’re making good points, but you’re not answering the question.”

“You didn’t ask one there.”

“Don’t have to say it to ask it.”

“Well the answer isn’t much of one anyway. I just think it’d be good for all parties involved.” Vaidya has a pleasant look on his face. The back and forth with Tina or Maggie are always a treat.

Tina just shrugs. “Eh, nothing I can complain about anyway. I’ll see if I can get away with it.”

Vaidya smiles. “That's all that I ask.” 

A nice silence sets over the two as they continue their trip. Vaidya takes it in, travelling with someone is a pleasant experience. Before long, Maille is in sight.

With the cool night air in their faces, the two Postknights slow their pace at Maille’s gate, heading for the inn. 

“So, what do we tell Tedric?” Tina starts.

Vaidya looks at her like it’s obvious. “Well, the truth for one. That we got distracted.”

“Distracted.”

“Yes, distracted.” Another idea comes into Vaidya’s head, a special trait of this particular day. “The wolves and roblins are uncharacteristically quiet today.”

“Uncharacteristically quiet?”

“Yes, it seems that they’ve been chased off by something.”

Tina begins to catch on. “And we dealt with this ‘something?’”

 “Not quite.” Shaking his head, Vaidya continues, “Though one of us has investigated it, it’s of no threat.”

“Sounds like your excuse, not mine.”

“Well, you had a part in it.”

Tina takes a thoughtful pause. She runs through today’s events, thinking of what ‘her part’ was in the whole ordeal. The only thing of any significance she did was fix up a gate afterall… 

Her eyes widen as she realises just what Vaidya was implying. “You don’t me-”

“Instructor Tedric! A pleasure.” Vaidya jovially greets the teal-haired instructor approaching them. “If I may, your cap’s off balance.”

Tedric looks about as dishevelled as when Vaidya left. This time though, he sported a frown before the two strolled into Maille. “It’s late, you know. I was worried something happened!”

“Apologies instructor, I got caught up in some business, and happened across Tina.” Vaidya bows his head.

Tedric looks at the alchemist knight for a beat before sighing. “As long as you’re both okay, that’s fine with me. Today’s been a weird day, so I was worried something happened.”

Vaidya has a hunch about this ‘weird day.’ Feigning interest, he asks “Odd how?”

Tedric clicks his tongue, “Well you already know about today’s busy day. I’ve gotten a few reports about Maille being quieter though. Nothing serious, but it’s odd since no one’s had time to patrol today.” 

“Well, my business lines up just perfectly with that. I happened to be investigating that during my delivery.” Vaidya says diplomatically. “You have Tina to thank for that.”

Tedric leans back slightly, taken aback no doubt. “Well, I’m glad you chose today to patrol then. Today’s mail all arrived on time,” he says, impressed. “How’d you know that today would be so busy?”

Tina, still reeling from her realisation, doesn’t even let out a mutter before Vaidya answers for her, “today’s her usual day to run deliveries actually, she just happened to take a long route.” Before Tedric can respond, he also adds, “could I talk to you at your station in a moment, Tedric? It’s about an order I received.” 

Picking up on the hint of seriousness in Vaidya’s tone, Tedric just says “okay, I’ll be waiting.” He heads back towards the Maille inn. There’s a silence between Vaidya and Tina until Tedric disappears behind the inn.

“Vaidya.” Tina starts, deadly serious.

“Yes, Tina?” Vaidya matches her tone with a carefree flutter.

“You’re not serious are you?”

“About what?”

Tina just stays silent for a moment. Deciding she’s too tired for this, she just leaves unceremoniously. Waving her goodbye as she struts off.

“Goodnight to you too Postknight Tina!” Vaidya sends her off. He stifles a laugh. Vaidya wins this round.

Vaidya strolls past the inn, still cradling the poinsettias in his arms. The smell of Knight’s Cod and barley water blew out the door. Part of him can’t help but pridefully put Sandy’s cooking over the inn’s. There’s light, nondescript chatter from the postknights having dinner this late. But Vaidya pays them no mind as he turns the corner.

Tedric looks up at him with an odd expression. “I noticed them earlier, but what’s with the flowers?” He asks.

“Ah, a gift from Sandy. She’s taken up gardening, among other things” Vaidya answers.

Tedric hums. “Yellow poinsettias are an odd choice for someone like you though.”

Vaidya contemplates Tedric’s words. He supposes it’s not unnatural to think that about Vaidya, and he doesn’t really care to challenge that thought as of now. “They weren’t just my gift, it was a shared present.”

“Huh,” is Tedric’s only reply to that. “So what’s the order you were on about? You made it sound kind of important.” He scratches his head sheepishly.

“It’s more of a cancellation I suppose. Sandy would like to stop her medicine shipments for an indeterminate amount of time.”

Tedric stares at him for a moment. Well, longer than a moment, it’s actually quite unsettling how bewildered Tedric is about this ordeal. He could at least not look at Vaidya that hard.

“I confirmed it with her, she’s taken up herb picking as well.” Vaidya breaks the silence. “She’s quite serious about it.” 

After a moment longer, Tedric relaxes his gaze. “I’ll have to check in on her later, it’s pretty serious to just not deliver medicine to someone in her position.”

“Do consider it seriously though.” Vaidya says.

“...I will.” Tedric answers. He smiles at Vaidya, “Thanks for being the messenger. Do you want a muffin on your way out?” He gestures to a plate on his desk.

“I’ll be quite fine, instructor. Have a good night.” Vaidya leaves Tedric at his stand.

Vaidya opens the door to his dorm. He lights the candle, which is at its usual place on the dining table. Going into the kitchen, he fishes out an empty bottle to hold the poinsettias. After watering the flowers, Vaidya gives himself a moment to stretch out each muscle in his body. 

Tedric isn’t exactly wrong about the odd choice of yellow poinsettias. Vaidya considers that they were more Hettik’s gift than his. But that doesn’t quite answer why they’re in Vaidya’s care. If he thinks about it seriously, there’s some ground to it. Vaidya doubts anyone would believe exchanges like the one with Tina to be anything but childish, not that Sandy was there to see it.

Though, Vaidya supposes, being childish isn’t just bouncing cheeky quips off of one another. The jovial child within is a curious one too, a joy he, Hettik, and Sandy all share. 

In some sense, Vaidya got his answer. Not everyone has to be happy with their mail, just like he is with Naina’s.

…

He supposes that part of him is also quite childish.

Vaidya finishes stretching. He takes off his hair tie, letting long strands smooth out to his shoulder blades. He changes into his nightclothes after brushing his hair. Vaidya walks past a certain black compartment of unopened letters, and lays in his bed. Here, in the pool of his mind, a single thought stands out.

Today was a good day.

Chapter Text

Strolling through the fields of Caldemont plains, Vaidya can’t help but think that the world has a very crude sense of humour.

Vaidya’s currently running a delivery to the capital. It’s a special sort of delivery for two reasons. For one, it’s one of the few deliveries he makes outside of Maille. Doubling as Maille’s alchemist typically limits his range of deliveries to, well, Maille.

Not to say he minds Maille much. Since becoming a Postknight, he’s more than happy moving within the hustle and bustle of his fellow Postknights.

Much happier than his first days if nothing else, awkwardly stumbling about in the chaos. But that’s a time he’s long since passed by. To that, Vaidya supposes Tina and Maggie deserve a fair bit of thanks.

It’s a nice day, the sort of day where Vaidya wouldn’t mind just laying down in the grass. The sun gives off its heat, but there’s a nice cool breeze as a counterbalance. If he wasn’t working, Vaidya thinks it’d be a nice day to have a picnic with his friends.

As usual for deliveries, the Postknight scroll is light in his pack. Certainly the lightest thing among his collection of medical supplies. 

Though its presence is a bit of a discomfort to him. 

The scroll itself is just fine. It’s the typical postknight scroll for deliveries. It’s just that Vaidya was actually able to look at its contents: a book titled “Herbs by Naina” with the familiar signature of Vaidya’s older sister. A delivery to another alchemist no doubt. Among his peers in the sphere of alchemy, no name stands out quite like Naina’s.

So the package gets points in both content and context. It’s the sort of scene former Postknight Pearl would’ve found in one of her novels. That story-like irony of Vaidya never quite escaping.

The presence the package gives off doesn’t seem to have any sort of tangible effect. Though Vaidya recognizes the slightest bit of discomfort he has at the thought of its sender. It’s sort of childish, he thinks, for him to hold these sorts of feelings.

The discomfort comes with the slight stiffness in his breath. The slowing of his pace. His unfocused eyes. Not at all dissimilar to when the sender has a letter for him.

If nothing else, he can still relish in the fact that it’s a nice day out. He’s been more upfront with taking deliveries than before—part of the reason he’s on this delivery in the first place.

Caldemont itself is a huge city. Vaidya has a ways to go before reaching the place, but Caldemont’s silhouette stands proudly on the horizon regardless. Its walls would seem much more menacing if the gates were closed. Though with the gates open, Vaidya can see snippets of clamour in blurs of colour.

Picking up his pace, he speeds along the road to meld into that collage.

After he signs himself in at the gates of Caldemont, Vaidya eyes one of the guards. The guard stands to the side of the gate, watching for comers and goers. He sports a head of green hair and a tanned complexion, both of which are reminiscent of someone, but Vaidya can’t quite place who.

During Vaidya’s musing, the guard returns Vaidya’s stare. The guard barely changes his expression, but approaches Vaidya, cliff-faced and all.

“Something the matter, Postknight?” he says simply. Vaidya takes care to note how little the guard’s expression changes. 

So Vaidya flashes a polite smile back. “Not at all, you just seemed familiar. But I don’t think we’ve met.”

“My older sister is a Postknight.” The guard replies. “If you’ve met her, that'd be why.” His tone is straightforward. It’s not exactly rude per say, but it is flat.

After a light bit of probing, the image of a certain laid-back blacksmith comes to Vaidya’s mind. The guard’s hair and complexion match perfectly afterall. “I take it her name is Tina?” Vaidya’s smile becomes more natural.

The guard’s eyebrows rise the slightest bit. “Yes. Are you a friend of hers?” 

“Yes. I’m Vaidya. Tina mentioned you before, Cooper, yes?” It’s nice to have someone familiar around, Vaidya thinks, even if they’re only familiar by association. It makes him feel the slightest bit less alone for his first time away from Maille in a long while.

“Yes, I’m Cooper. Tina’s written about you.” Besides his words, there’s not much of a reaction on Cooper’s side. From an outsider’s view, it would seem like Cooper was ignoring Vaidya. From Vaidya’s view though, he sees Cooper’s wander over him.

“Good things I hope.” Vaidya chuckles. Cooper doesn’t respond.

The light pricking sensation Vaidya feels from Cooper’s eyes, Vaidya thinks, is proof enough that Cooper is well-suited to his job. The air between them stiffens slightly as an awkwardness settles in. For all Tina gushes about her darling brother, Vaidya can’t say he shares her view.

There’s a thoughtful look on Cooper’s face, like he’s planning to ask something but doesn’t know how to phrase it. But before Vaidya can think about it, Cooper’s expression goes stiff again. “ I’m assuming you’re here for a delivery, so you might as well finish it. I have my job to do anyway.” His tone is flat, like he’s reading off a textbook instead of working as a guard. He walks back to his original position.

A bit dazed from the encounter, Vaidya goes past the gate and into the city itself, melting into the busy streets as he goes on his way. 

Vaidya’s far from a regular visitor to cities. The capital itself? This is a first for him.

Faceless people pass in and out of crowds, busy on whatever business they find themselves with. Vaidya finds himself going with whatever flow the pack of people take at each moment. He just kind of walks the same direction as everyone else so he doesn’t get in someone’s way.

It’s not a productive way to deliver a package, he realises. It’s just, there’s so much going on that he can barely keep up over the noise as he wades through the streets.

The daily rush of Maille really is nothing to Caldemont, and Violetfair—Vaidya’s sleepy hometown—isn’t even worth mentioning to compare. Vaidya remembers his first days as a postknight trainee, standing dazed to the side as it seemed like everyone else knew exactly where to be. 

A few streets down, the crowd spits Vaidya out onto the curb. He stumbles on it before catching himself.

Vaidya leans back on a flagpole as he looks up at the clouds. It’s peaceful in the sky as always. The clouds flow along carelessly with the wind. Vaidya’s eyes listless glaze over as he absentmindedly clears his mind.

He also remembers two other trainees from back then. Tina and Maggie had stopped to help him through his training. The three of them made quite the trio he supposes, with all of them having hobbies outside of being a postknight. Though he supposes “made” is a bit of an overstatement, even now they’re all within walking distance of one another. Most of their time is spent in that same plaza in Maille.

He actually tried thanking them formally for helping him months after. Tina brushed him off in her typical smooth manner, and Maggie said that Vaidya should give himself more credit. Both of them said that Vaidya was plenty capable.

He supposes he should prove them right at least.

Taking a deep breath, Vaidya rises and studies the street. It’s not any less busy than when he stumbled his way out of the crowd. Looking higher though, he sees a few convenient signboards above the heads of passersby. Not to mention his pack does contain directions and a description for the building he’s looking for.

All that’s left is to gather his bearings and make it through.

That whole exchange with Tina and Maggie ended with an awkward three-way hug. It’d be nice if that’s all it took for Vaidya to shake off those doubts. He really doesn’t think he can overstate just how much his friends have helped him. 

Going from alchemy in Violetfair to postknight work in Maille was a huge jump Vaidya wasn’t ready for. The tiny pessimistic voice in his head says that he wouldn’t have stuck it through without them.

Vaidya pulls out a paper from his backpack. The handwriting is messy (no thanks to a certain postknight instructor), but he can make out “bottle-shaped building” and the name “Silas” from the scribbles. With the general architecture of Caldemont, something like that should stand out. He slips the page into his pack and sets on his way.

So as to not get caught up in the crowd again, Vaidya sticks to the curb as he searches. Every so often he braves the centre to cross the street. Vaidya looks about, ducks in and out of crowds, and wanders aimlessly as he goes about his way.

As he goes along he maps out mental markers in his head to make sure he doesn’t actually get lost. Rosavern’s red rose symbol. Street vendors and their sometimes eccentric goods. Adrian’s shop. A crying child down the street. 

…

Now that’s not quite right is it? Vaidya stops in his tracks for a moment, before crossing the street and approaching the boy.

Vaidya kneels down beside the boy quietly. “Are you okay?”

The boy twitches slightly. He lets out some nondescript mumbles and leans into Vaidya. Vaidya rubs the boy’s head in what he hopes is a soothing manner as they fall into a sort of half-hug.

“If you can, try to breathe with me.” Vaidya instructs. After the boy fidgets in response, Vaidya draws in an audible breath, which the boy copies. After Vaidya’s drawn in his breath for four seconds, he exhales with a light haaa for six seconds, which is also copied.

They fall into this pattern for a while. The pair just sit there and breathe Vaidya’s usual pattern.

It’s a trick he learnt from his sister, breathing. When something would go out of control—a flask breaking, herbs wilting, just generally being overwhelmed—Naina would help him through it. Although Vaidya supposes it isn’t particularly novel advice, it’s always good to remember.

And, as it turns out, just as good to pass on, or at least Vaidya thinks so. The boy is less jittery if nothing else. Vaidya can’t tell if he’s calmer from the company, the comfort, or the breathing. Though he supposes the only thing that really matters is that the boy calms down at all. He repeats the motion a few more times.

“Feel any better?” Vaidya asks hesitantly. Being honest, it’s more for Vaidya’s sake than anything. The boy seems calmer, but some certainty would be nice. The last thing Vaidya wants to do is to make the stress worse. 

There’s a muffled “uh-huh” from the boy’s head, along with a shifting movement that Vaidya assumes is a nod. Vaidya probably feels way better about himself than he should considering he’s cradling a sad kid. The reassurance helps though. It’s nice to know he’s helping.

“What’s your name?” Vaidya asks, with a little more confidence.

After a pause, the boy mumbles something out. It’s hard to hear with his orange postknight uniform in the way, but Vaidya makes out “Neville” in the mumbling.

The name rings a bell somewhere in Vaidya’s mind. He knows for a fact that he heard it from somewhere, even if he can’t quite place where . It was probably mentioned at some point by someone.

Juggling the thought leads him to one of his picnics with Tina and Maggie. Individually, the trio don’t go on as many trips as the other postknights. Each of them have their hands full with a stand in Maille afterall. In return, they head out on a picnic every so often and bounce tales off one another.

Vaidya isn’t the only one stretching out of Maille either. Maggie was running deliveries out in Pompon some time ago. To all of their amusement, she kept a souvenir in the form of a funny little page on Pompon’s request board. It read: I WANT SWEETS. PLEASE AND THANK YOU in a messy childish scribble.

Some residue amusement makes its way into Vaidya chest. The three of them shared a nice laugh from the note. 

It was a clever way to use his allowance money if nothing else. Hexascales are crispy and sweet treats. The honey bears around Pompon don’t make it easy or safe though. A little bit of clever outsourcing certainly went Neville’s way with the Pompon request board.

That being said, Neville’s a long way from Pompon.

“Is someone supposed to be taking care of you right now?” Vaidya asks carefully, his mood mellowed out of the residue amusement.

“S’posed to… be with Lily.” Neville responds into Vaidya’s outfit. His voice is louder and steadier than before, though still strained.

“Would you like to come with me? It might be easier to find her if we walk around.” It’s unprofessional, admittedly, but Vaidya doubts a frivolous delivery like a signed book is in much of a rush anyway.

Not to mention he’s probably already late on the package from getting lost already, a little more won’t hurt.

It’s pretty easy to imagine how Neville feels, Vaidya thinks. Busy cities and small children hardly mix. For all Vaidya’s adapted, he still doesn’t mix well with the busy streets.

It’s with this thought in mind that Vaidya finds himself holding Neville’s hand in line for an iced bloop.

“Can you tell me about Lily?” Vaidya asks. 

“Lily’s super smart! She’s supposed to teach me about this al-ce-mee thing she’s really good at!” Neville’s made practically a full recovery since Vaidya picked him up.

He’s also very eagerly awaiting a sweet treat at that.

“She’s an alchemist, I take it.” Vaidya replies thoughtfully, sneakily correcting Neville’s pronunciation. Neville nods along.

The potential of Lily being related to Silas crosses Vaidya’s mind. He brushes that off in favour of a city like Caldemont having space for several alchemists.

A few gold coins clink across the booth, and a glass of syrupy ice is slid into Vaidya’s hand. It’s handed down to Neville.

Neville greedily slurps at the iced bloop from one hand while tightly gripping Vaidya’s shirt in the other.

“What does Lily look like?” Vaidya asks casually. He scans the crowd for any worried expression while marking down landmarks in his head. Right now he’s near Eolin’s plaza, the statue of Eolin stands proudly in the centre.

“Lily has this really big pink hair!” replies Neville. Between bites of iced bloop, he says “And she had these blue clothes!” For his height, he certainly puts in his weight for finding Lily, dutifully searching between the legs of passersby.

“How did you two get separated? She seems like a hard person to miss.” Vaidya scans the plaza. Inconveniently, he doesn’t recall a head of pink hair anywhere in the street in his wandering. Still though, the search goes on.

“There were too many people, she just disappeared.” Vaidya rubs his head comfortingly in response. These things just happen sometimes.

Glancing around Eolin’s plaza, Neville tilts his head and asks “Where are the games?”

“Games?” 

“Yeah, games! There were all these games before!” Neville dashes ahead, with his treat melting onto his hand. 

Contrasting the streets, the plaza’s wide enough for Vaidya to keep an eye on Neville. Not that there are much less people, they’re just spread out. Vaidya picks up his pace nonetheless.

Nearing an empty space, Neville suddenly stops and gestures wildly towards the air, as if there was still a stand there. “Like here! There was a game here where we got to throw water balloons at pippops!” Neville recalls excitedly. “Lily’s dad was really good at it! His score was the 9th best! He even beat Miss Morgan!”

It’s around here where it finally clicks to Vaidya. The last time Neville was here was during the Fontana Fair. It was all Tina and Maggie talked about the days after the fair ended. Though Vaidya skipped it for his own reasons.

It’s the kind of event where he’d absolutely see a certain someone afterall. His friends are kind enough to avoid that topic though; rather, they’re content with sharing their own stories. He absorbs the joy through their retellings of Tina’s reunion with Cooper and Maggie’s greedy escapades.

It’s not to say they don’t notice. Time to time Vaidya will catch a concerned stare from down the street in Maille. They just don’t cross that line.

“The last time you were here, I think there was a Fair.” It cuts into the excitement that Neville’s exuding from his memories, but Vaidya felt the need to answer his prior question.

Neville snaps his head back to his guide. “When d’ya think it comes back? I’m older now. I might even get a top score!” He eyes another empty plot, and dashes to it. “Oh! Like Lily! She was the best at the game here!”

“It returns in a few months.” Vaidya answers, matching Neville’s pace. “It’ll come back some time after Winterfest and Blossomfest.”

Vaidya also adds: “you should wash your hands in the fountain while we’re here.”

The pair strolls to the centre of the plaza. Neville’s short steps dash ahead of Vaidya’s long strides. Even though the search hasn’t made much progress, Vaidya thinks it was good that they ended up here. Neville seems to be enjoying himself at least.

As they reach the fountain, Neville leans over the edge and looks his reflection in the eye. To his side, Vaidya takes a seat on the edge and leans back onto his arms. 

When Neville begins washing his hands in the fountain, Vaidya gets caught in some of the splashes. In retaliation, Vaidya flicks some water at Neville’s face.

Reeling from the impact of cold water, Neville shoots a challenging look at Vaidya. At least, as challenging as the fired up expression of a toddler can get. Vaidya just glances back, the edge of his lip curved upwards. In response, Neville raises his hands above the water with clear intent.

Before Neville can splash Vaidya back, a voice shouts out “Neville!” from across the plaza.

Vaidya’s attention immediately snaps to the source of the voice, and Neville’s follows soon after.

Just a little bit down the stone pathing from the fountain is the voice's owner. A young lady, a few years older than Vaidya, returns their gaze. Most notably though—to Vaidya at least—is her long pink hair tied over her shoulder, and blue ankle-length dress.

Looks like they found their target, or the opposite rather. But what matters is that she’s here, Vaidya supposes.

She scurries over them, far faster than Vaidya thinks a dress like that should allow. Once in arms reach, she kneels down to cup Neville’s face. “We were looking all over for you! What happened?”

The few sputtered words that Neville gets out are apologies and scrambled cries of “don’t know” as he hugs the newcomer. They stay in that position for awhile.

When they separate, the lady looks over to Vaidya. “Oh! I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. Have you been taking care of Neville?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on him.” Vaidya politely responds. He clasps his hands in front of him in greeting. “Lily I presume?”

…

There’s sometimes this sudden palpitation in the air. A sort of sudden twist in what should be normal. When you say something that’s just so utterly stupid to the other party and the air itself twists in reaction like it’s trying to deprive you of its oxygen as punishment.

Lily, or rather, who Vaidya presumed was Lily, just sort of stares at him? And it’s not Vaidya’s fault either, the only thing Neville told him was pink hair and blue clothes.

Vaidya doesn’t know how in the world to handle this either mind you. He’s usually polite enough that he never has to engage with this kind of situation.

First time for everything, he supposes, begrudgingly.

“I’m sorry…” he starts. He pauses after too. He doesn’t really know what to say. “Did I… say something wrong?” Vaidya and Neville both stare at her now, like she’s about to lash out.

And she bursts into laughter.

It’s the roaring kind of laughter that comes out like a punch to the gut; coming out of nowhere specifically to take all the air in your lungs. Vaidya feels rather mortified actually. It was his mistake that caused this afterall.

If nothing else, the lady—who Vaidya now supposes is definitely not Lily—is far from offended.

Looking to the side, Vaidya sees Neville bug-eyed at the spectacle.

She chokes out a few more laughs and wipes her eyes. She’s swaying slightly, which Vaidya takes as a sign to be cautious.

Vaidya’s actually quite impressed with how long she’s lasted. For all the laughter, she’s actually standing relatively straight. By now, most people probably would’ve keeled over, he thinks.

She tilts to the side. Before she does anything more than stumble though, Vaidya catches her. 

Hoisting her arm around his shoulder, Vaidya tries to keep the woman at least semi-comfortable as she chokes out the last bit of laughter. “Are you alright? Miss?” he asks with a hesitant tone.

After choking out a few more laughs, she gasps out an apology, adding “It’s missus by the way.” with a tired grin.

If Vaidya was ready to quip, he’d probably respond with something like “Not missus Lily though.” But he’s not sure he’s ready for another bout of laughter.

So instead he settles for an introduction. “I’m Vaidya, a postknight. And you are?…”

“I’m Susanna, Lily’s mother. ” she answers, with a firmer grin—a twitch away from laughter.

Ah.

Vaidya feels the heat come to his face the moment the dots connect. He imagines his cheeks have much alike with a tomato at this moment. Instinctively, he covers his face with his hands, mumbling out an apology.

“It’s alright.” Susanna unwraps herself from Vaidya’s shoulder. “Quite flattering to be mistaken for my daughter at my age really.” She smirks. 

Grabbing Vaidyas wrists, she adds, “so if you ask me, you don’t need to worry too much about it.” She clicks her tongue at the “it,” and pulls Vaidya’s arms down.

Still a bit flustered, Vaidya averts his gaze with a sheepish look.

“Though,” Susanna starts with a more straightforward tone. “If you’re a postknight, shouldn’t you be on a delivery?”

Vaidya looks down, “I was on one actually.” Looking up, he flashes an awkward smile. “Actually, I got lost looking for the place and ran into Neville.”

Susanna beams. “Thank you for taking care of him then. Sorry for the trouble.”

“Not at all, I’m glad we were about to find you.”

“I suppose we ought to head back now.” Susanna says, taking Neville’s hand. “Who’s your delivery for? I could give you a pointer as thanks.”

Vaidya smiles, “That would be great.” He says with a hint of relief. “Do you know where a bottle-shaped house is? Someone living there ordered a book. The owner’s name is Silas.”

…

This too, Vaidya supposes, suits the story-like irony of Pearl’s books perfectly as well.

He admits though, being led directly to his destination is much more comforting than a scramble of street numbers and landmarks. But… “If you’re his husband, couldn’t you take it to him yourself?”

“Oh, but isn’t it so much more exciting this way?” Susanna smiles sweetly. She and Vaidya each take one of Neville’s hands as they walk him down the street. “Besides, it’s so much easier to return the favour now that you’re coming with us.”

“Like I said, that’s not necessary.” Vaidya looks around the street. The tiniest bit of hindsight prods at Vaidya when he sees Rosavern. “Huh, I found Neville around here.” He says.

Susanna laughs, “You must’ve had some bad luck to end up in the plaza then. We’re not far from home now.” She’s used to this, Vaidya thinks. The bustle of the street gets the better of plenty of people, postknight or not. Always someone that needs a hand. “Guess it’s also lucky you ran into me though.”

When Vaidya read “bottle-shaped house” off his notes, he certainly wasn’t expecting this .

In fairness, it’s not an incorrect descriptor. It’s just Vaidya thinks using “bottle-shaped” to describe the house is an absurd understatement. Specifically, the house takes up the figure of a round-bottomed flask. 

Perfect for a stable heat distribution , Vaidya recites to himself, and maybe to a stable family as well . 

The entirety of the house’s walls are made up of blue-stained glass. An ocean blue, like the house is filled with water. Wherever the glass faces the sky, there’s wooden red roofing to protect the glass from debris and the inhabitants from sunlight.

There’s a man out in front with his blonde hair wrapped in a headband. Judging from the golden leaves he’s handling and the tools at his disposal, Vaidya supposes he’s doing some alchemy work. 

On a seat to the side there’s this plume of pink hair facing the group that Vaidya supposes is a young girl. Both of them wear blue outfits that match Susanna’s own dress.

His introduction to Susanna fresh in his mind, Vaidya withholds any assumptions on who they are.

Susanna gestures for him and Neville to stop. Then she waltzes towards the man without a sound. The girl looks at Susanna and beams. Once in arms reach, Susanna grips the man’s shoulders and twirls him around. He lets out a surprised shout before Susanna catches him. She holds the man like she’s dancing a waltz, and she dips down so that their noses meet.

“Welcome back, Rose.” He says warmly once he recovers his bearings. “Did you find the kid?”

Susanna pulls him back up. “See for yourself honey.”

The man glances at both Vaidya and Neville. The pink-haired girl dashes to Neville to check on him. Once she’s satisfied, she stares up at Vaidya. Vaidya just waves. 

The man gives a lighthearted grin. “Looks like you brought a plus one. Another first timer?” He winks, twirling a piece of wheat in his mouth.

Vaidya chuckles awkwardly. “Something like that, though I also have something for you.” Vaidya says, reaching for the scroll. More hesitantly, he asks, “Silas I hope?” not wanting a repeat of the plaza.

Seeing the postknight’s scroll, Silas’ eyes widened slightly. “Oh, a postknight! You brought it then?” Silas asks excitedly, like it’s Winterfest rather than a cool Spring afternoon. 

Despite not confirming his identity, Vaidya takes his excitement as confirmation and unfurls the scroll. Herbs by Naina pops out and neatly lands in his hand. “If ‘it’ refers to this book here, then of course.” He smiles, offering the tome.

Silas handles the book like it’s a child, and peeks just under the cover. “Yup, signed and everything. Thanks” He grins. The book snaps closed and Silas heads for the door. “I’ll be back in a moment, gonna put this in my study!”

Susanna smiles as she watches her husband go. “I’ll go prepare something to eat in return for you finding Neville. Could you watch the kids Vaidya?”

Vaidya nods. “If you must insist, I can keep an eye on them.”

“And I do insist. I’ll only be a moment.” Susanna flashes a smile before also disappearing into the house.

Vaidya looks at where the pink-haired girl is. Her expression is wide-eyed, like she’s deciding whether Vaidya counts as a “nice stranger” or not. Vaidya kneels down so he’s eye-to-eye with her. “Hello there, I’m Vaidya. What’s your name?”

She breaks into a misaligned toothy grin and winks like her father. “I’m Lily!” She exclaims. Vaidya supposes he’s been labelled a “nice stranger” by her response.

“Neville told me a bit about you, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Vaidya says more gently than his usual tone. He skips the part where he mistook her mother for Lily. “Neville said you were good at alchemy. Were you supposed to be his teacher today?”

“Yeah! But that was before I got to meet a new grown-up. I want to play with you first!” Lily answers enthusiastically.

Neville tugs Vaidya’s sleeve. “Yeah! Lily can teach me later, but I just met you! I heard Postknights are busy too, so we should play as much as we can!”

Vaidya gives an amused sigh and stands up straight. “Well what do you want to play?”

Lily and Neville both put hands to their chins, humming in thought. 

After a moment, Lily’s eyes widen for a moment and she takes Neville out of Vaidya’s earshot. Not to say that the children are masters of whispering. Vaidya can make out some words out of the murmuring, but not enough that their plans are exposed. So he stands there and waits, letting the children plan their time out.

And that was his first mistake.

When the two finish their scheming, they walk back and each grab one of Vaidya’s arms. 

“We know what we want to play now!” Lily says, pulling Vaidya’s left arm.

“We’re playing explorers!” Neville says, tugging Vaidya’s right arm.

“So let’s explore the city!” They say at once.

Vaidya tugs them back. “We shouldn’t go too far from your house though. I’m watching you two for your parents.” He says to Lily. “They wouldn’t be too happy if we all left now would they?”

The children tug Vaidya’s arms even harder. “Mom only told you to watch us. So if you explore with us, that means you’re still doing your job!”

The stretch of logic makes Vaidya snort a little, and his pull relaxes.

And that was his second mistake.

Somehow, the slightest bit of vulnerability Vaidya shows was enough leverage for Lily and Neville to pull him into motion. Trying to catch himself, Vaidya kept stumbling along as the children dragged him. Before he could recover, the trio had dashed through the sprawling streets of Caldemont, ducked and dived between crowds of people, barrelled through alleys. 

And dear Eolin does Vaidya have no idea where they are anymore.

“You, do know where we are, right Lily?” Vaidya asks. He doesn’t want to blindly walk through Caldemont back to Silas’ place again.

“I do!” Lily responds proudly. “My memory’s the best!” She flexes her toddler biceps for effect.

“Could you lead us back then?” Vaidya hopes.

“Nope!” Lily smiles. “I know everywhere, so you need to explore for us!” Beside her, Neville nods enthusiastically.

Vaidya lets out an exasperated sigh. “Well I better get started then.” He takes both of their hands and sets out. He might as well get familiar with Caldemont as a postknight anyhow.

Wandering about isn’t much different than with Neville. Vaidya’s just walking about and keeping track of landmarks. Compared to then though, the addition of Lily helps keep the mood up with her confidence. The streets they’re walking on are less busy too. The odd passersby stand out instead of melting into a crowd. Vaidya greets each one that looks over at their spectacle.

Though, Vaidya is getting kind of sick of blindly wandering.

Right now, the trio are somewhere near the edge of the city. The angle they’re at makes the walls seem especially towering as they block out the sunlight.

At an odd junction though, Lily stops him. “Wait! There’s a secret here!”

Beside him, Neville looks about as surprised as Vaidya. All he was ready for was the wandering, Vaidya supposes.

“What’s this secret about?” Vaidya asks, genuinely curious.

“It’s a surprise! Look away!” Lily orders. And the two outsiders comply looking around the street instead. From behind, they can hear shuffling and the sound of crates being pushed about.

 It seems that those living on this side of Caldemont are used to the walls blocking the sun early, what with all the sparkling lights scattered along the alleys. They hang off the sides of buildings, each odd shop or home using a different colour, size, and brightness. It’s not unlike what Vaidya imagines the caves in the Valley of Gold are like. 

It really does suit that excitable nomicer of “adventure.”

At that thought, Vaidya wonders if this is really the sort of adventure he’s supposed to be having. As a postknight he’s on duty, and even playing along with antics like these are part of the job—Vaidya learnt a few weeks ago when he and Hettik visited Sandy.

But as an alchemist.

Or, at least someone practising alchemy. The point is, Vaidya’s not all too certain about how much passion he really has for this odd little side-job. Not in the sense that he dislikes it either. 

If he had to describe, it’s like alchemy’s becoming farther and farther away. Like an old friend you haven’t seen for years or a cousin you’ve only seen a couple times in your life. Like going back to alchemy is losing its meaning more and more.

Vaidya himself is actually quite aloof to this shift, as if it had no effect on his being. In part, he wonders if a certain conjecture of him is going to hold—that being, that he would always be an alchemist.

On that end though, sticking with alchemy or not doesn’t really matter. He didn’t have any feelings on it when he thought of the conjecture, proving it false doesn’t change that. He thinks.

“What do you think she’s going to show us?” Neville asks, breaking through Vaidya’s musing.

Blinking a few times, like he just woke up, Vaidya answers. “I can’t say I know.” Stretching his back, he teases Neville. “Rather, I thought this was part of your plan.”

“A-ah, of course!” Neville spouts pridefully. “I just wanted to make sure it was still a surprise.” He puffs his chest out rather adorably, Vaidya thinks.

“You’re hiding it quite well then.”

Neville hides a grin from the praise, and Vaidya smiles back. The two just wait in relative silence as Lily does some very noisy work.

After a particularly large crash from behind, Vaidya feels a tug on his shirt. “Finished~” Lily tugs happily. 

Looking back at the junction, the first thing Vaidya notices is the moved crates and scattered doodads. Lily’s stronger than Vaidya gave her credit for, but she’s not much for organisation.

Next, Vaidya sees a faded pinkish light on the fence wall, obviously hidden behind the crates. Lily goes to approach it.

Right under the light, Lily pushes a board on the fence and it swings open. “Let’s go!” She calls back, disappearing behind the board.

“Wait for me!” Neville dashes over to the board and runs through it. The board keeps up its pendulum-like motion before slowly crawling to a stop.

Vaidya walks to the board. He looks down each of the roads in the junction to find no one else around. With their privacy assured, Vaidya gives off an amused chuckle and disappears behind the fence too.

Behind the fence is this big empty lot, or at least Vaidya gets the impression that it’s “big.” The shade of the wall gives the impression that he’s walking down this cavern. But when he looks up, the Sky’s as bright and blue as it was when he first got to Caldemont. 

It has a nice effect, Vaidya thinks, like the Sky’s this giant painted motif and he’s walking through the halls of a dim cathedral.

Around a corner, he sees a blue light shine and heads for it. 

“Wait until he’s here!”

“I wanna see though!”

“You’ll see soon, just wait!”

Lily and Neville are arguing about something. If Vaidya had to take a guess, it’s about whatever’s behind the old curtain that Lily has her arms spread out in front of. 

Offhandedly, Vaidya wonders where that curtain came from. Logically, by its wavy pink and blue patterns, it came from Lily’s home. But then there’s the house itself, that silly fairy-tale styled house in the form of a round-bottom flask. There’s nothing a curtain like that could possibly do to—

“You’re here!” The kids both crowd Vaidya energetically.

“Now I can see what Lily’s hiding!”

“It’s for you both to see!”

Vaidya sighs with a smile. “Well now that we’re all here, we should take a look and see, shall we?”

“Yeah!” Lily runs over to the curtains and snaps them open dramatically with a twirl. She then takes off an imaginary tophat and dramatically gestures to the area behind the curtain.

“This is my lab!” Lily proudly states. Neville looks past her wide eyed and wide mouthed.

Vaidya’s gut reaction splits his thoughts in two different directions when seeing Lily’s “lab.”

On one hand, the lab is actually quite well-equipped. For as scrappy as Lily’s setup is, functionally it’s an identical mirror to Silas’ own. Vaidya can check off any number of essentials from his own alchemy work—they’d all be here. For a toddler, the lab is beyond impressive.

On the other hand, Vaidya has some serious safety concerns. To start, a toddler going to the edge of a city in order to practise alchemy just feels like begging for trouble. To add onto that, the lab's air is really quite stale from the lack of sun. Almost every alchemist is careful to make sure their facilities are in open air. The air here does a poor job preserving herbs

Thinking to be polite, Vaidya only makes the first half of opinions heard.

Lily beams at the praise, rubbing her head and making a little ehe sound. “Daddy doesn’t let me do any experiments, so I made this place instead.”

“Well you did a good job of it, what kind of experiments have you done?” Vaidya asks encouragingly.

“That’s what I wanted to show!” Lily scrambles to one of the tables. She grabs a handful of herbs from a bowl. While she's scrambling around a table several times her size, she shouts. “Wait for me to finish!”

After making her way around, Lily climbs onto the table and tosses her herbs into the mortar. She uses the mortar and pestle wrong though, grinding and twisting the pestle on the herbs.

“Ah, you’re supposed to do it a different way.” Vaidya says, stepping towards the table. “Also, wouldn’t you say this is a good time to teach Neville too?”

Lily takes a moment to think about Vaidyas words. Eventually she nods. “Okay! Come over Neville! I can show you!”

Neville dashes over and stands on a stool by the table, peeking into the mortar of half-crushed herbs. Vaidya stands to his side.

“So what am I supposed to do? Mister?”

Vaidya puts a hand on the mortar. His other hand goes on top of Lily’s holding the pestle and he makes a light downward thumping motion. “If you hit the herbs like this, it breaks down their fibres more easily.” He recites naturally.

Lily pauses and stares at Vaidya. “Didn’t Mommy and Daddy say you were a Postknwight? How do you know alchemy too?”

“Well a skill like alchemy has its uses as a postknight.” Vaidya says. He talks about how the expertise it provides is helpful in an occupation with so much danger. “I might be a postknight, but my alchemy skills aren’t going to waste.” After a pause he adds that he’s an exception among postknights and alchemists alike.

Lily looks at Vaidya with a sense of adherence, like he opened an entire plane of possibilities before her eyes. But she recovers by saying “I’ll be cooler though! I’m gonna be the greatest alchemist ever!”

Vaidya just smiles innocently. “We’ll see, won’t we? Lot’s of competition to beat.” An image of his sister comes to mind.

Lily just hmphs and gets back to mashing the herbs.

As Lily makes progress with the mortar and pestle, their scents diffuse into the air. Vaidya recognizes the fragrance of valley bells. Slightly fruity, like blueberries, with a sort of smokey hint coming together and making what Vaidya thinks is a very pleasant scent. The flowers themselves are beyond recognition now. 

“Oh! I know this smell!” Neville exclaims. “These are from flowers that grow around my home! My mom loves them!”

“They’re Valley Bells, they’ve been growing around Pompon since that dragon incident.” Vaidya explains. “Though I suppose Lily here found her own source of them.” With a cheeky expression, he turns to Lily. “Am I right?”

She stops mashing the valley bells for a moment. “… I asked Neville for them.” She admits.

“Oh that’s what you need the flowers for! If you want, next time I can grab more for you!” Neville’s all smiles. 

“While you do that, you should also get Rotaseed and Low Mallow.” Vaidya adds. “They’re also common herbs for potion infusions growing around Pompon. You could probably ask Miss Emelyn about them.”

Neville let out an exaggerated “Ooooh!” at the information. He’s quite eager to help his friend, Vaidya thinks with a smile.

Lily’s a bit sheepish from her hand being shown, but she seems happy. She resumes mashing.

Once Lily deems the Valley Bells sufficiently butchered, she takes the mortar to a water beaker filled with water and dumps the crushed Valley Bells inside. As she stirs the water in the beaker, it becomes more and more blue. Lily struggles with a few residue bits floating up as the thicker mixture resists her stirring.

“If you had Rotaseed in the mixture, or another potion thinner, it would be easier to mix it all in.” Vaidya suggests. “Something like this would be quite difficult to drink I’d think.”

“No one’s drinking it though!” Lily says. After struggling some more, she’s successfully drowned the last of Valley Bell grinds. The end product is this translucent blue goop that seems to attract the little light that reaches the lab. 

The glow alone is enough to attract Neville’s amazement.

Vaidya just looks on curiously as Lily slowly scrapes the contents of the beaker into a selection of test tubes. The distribution of Valley Bell concentrate is rather uneven, and the goop sticks to the sides more than it flows to the bottom. Lily handles them dutifully nonetheless.

After she finishes, Lily then goes to another bowl on the table and takes a handful of its contents. She runs back and takes an open test tube in the other hand.

“Watch this!” She shouts and dumps the contents of her hand into the test tube.

The thin opening of the test tube only catches a few of the grainy objects Lily released. Seeds, Vaidya realises.

Where before the goop seemed to attract light, now the test tube in Lily’s hands is emitting a blue glow. Whatever seeds that did make it into the test tubes start shaking before barrelling through all their stages of growth.

The end result is an overflowing bouquet of bright red fiery flowers that Lily flourishes dramatically with a “tah dah!” before handing it off to Vaidya.

“It’s a gift! Keep it.” She grins, hopping off her table.

“I’ll take good care of them.” Vaidya smiles and accepts the flowers in stride.

Valley Bells contain the same life magic as the Kuregon’s. For potions, this means that they have a very potent healing effect. Though the blue substance that Lily uses is composed of the exact herbs, Vaidya suspects the thickness makes that goop nigh unswallowable. But for growing a few flowers, it does the trick.

Vaidya says as much to a confused Neville. Both he—and especially Lily—eat up the explanation.

“Do you have some parchment to wrap this in, Lily?” Vaidya asks. The flowers are lovely, but their sheer volume is far too much for a single test tube. Vaidya’s trying his best to hold onto them all.

“Oh, right!” Lily scrambles for some paper as Vaidya struggles with the flowers. After some struggling, the flowers are saved at the expense of only a few petals.

Now that Lily’s demonstration is complete, the group takes a moment to clean up her makeshift lab. Not that the original lab was all that organised, but it’d be good to keep organised.

Vaidya’s a bit curious though, “How did you know I’d pass by the entrance?”

Lily grins. “Aren’t I smart? Neville has stains on his pants that look like the syrup they use in iced bloops! That means that when you go wandering, you turn to the left!”

So luck is the answer, Vaidya thinks. He doesn’t say that though, he just nods at the girl. She returns a smile in full.

Leaving the lab in a similar state as when they first entered. The group go out into the junction that had its entrance, Vaidya feels a sense of deja vu as he once again cradles a bouquet of flowers.

And walks out into the path of a familiar silver-haired former postknight.

Donning a stylish white and blue dress, Pearl has adapted really quite well to Caldemont, Vaidya thinks.

“Vaidya?” Pearl stops in her tracks and freezes.

Vaidya wonders if he deserved this for sassing Pearl’s storybooks in his head. “Oh hello Pearl. I wasn’t expecting to run into you today.” He says politely.

“I should be saying that to you! What are you doing jumping out of fences?” She retorts. She pouts when staring him down, but Vaidya thinks she wants to laugh at him.

The loose fence board creaks again as Lily and Neville make their way out. The kids end up freezing at the sight of Pearl. They just left their secret lab afterall, it wouldn’t do for it to be revealed so quickly.

“Oh, we were just working on Lily’s secret garden.” Vaidya lies smoothly, he raises his bouquet as proof. Meeting Pearl’s eyes, he adds “Don’t tell anyone will you?” with a finger in front of his lips.

Upon seeing the children, Pearl relaxes her gaze. “Isn’t it a little bit far away from Lily’s home though? Her parents, Silas and Susanna are next to Miss Camellia’s store.”

“Of course. How else is it supposed to be secret?”

“But why does it need to be secret in the first place?”

“It’s a surprise of course. Lily wants to grow flowers for her mother. Can’t be a surprise if it’s grown out of their own garden.” Vaidya wags his finger humorously. “Besides, aren’t the flowers lovely?” He gestures to the bouquet he’s cradling.

“Yeah, they’re gorgeous.” Pearl’s eyes sparkle at them. Turning to Lily says, “You’re amazing to be able to grow them, there’s not enough sun here to grow plants normally.”

Lily squirms happily at the ill-given praise.

“What are you doing anyway Pearl?” Vaidya changes the topic.

“Oh I was out shopping for clothes. Miss Camellia let me off work early.” Pearl answers.

“We were just just planning to wander around now. Would you care for some company?” Please, Vaidya’s had enough aimless wandering for one day

Pearl hesitates. “Are you sure? It’s not terribly exciting. I wouldn’t want to bore you all or anything.”

Vaidya doubles down. “I wouldn’t say wandering around blindly is terribly exciting either though. It’s my first time in the city and I don’t know the routes anyway.” He pretends to not notice the looks Neville and Lily throw at him.

“Oh in that case, let me help! I haven’t been here for the longest time, but I promise not to get lost.” Pearl’s expression brightens at the prospect of helping the trio. “Shall we?” She asks, walking past Vaidya and the kids with a hop in her step. The trio follow.

One thing new about the Pearl in front of him that the trainee Pearl of Maille doesn’t have is words. And Vaidya means that quite literally, Pearl’s been rambling on about each passing store, the streets they walk, the people she’s met, her new job, anything and everything.

She tells stories of her clumsiness and of clients she’s helped. Days of her training under Miss Camellia. Her lovely neighbours, Silas and Belladonna. The owner of Rosavern, Dahlia.

Pearl’s happy. And Vaidya’s happy for her. He’s glad she found something for herself.

Amidst Pearl’s rambling, Vaidya’s pulled back by Lily. They still follow Pearl, it’s just that they’re out of earshot.

In a hushed voice, Lily asks “I don’t have a garden.”

“You don’t.” Vaidya responds, matching her volume.

“So why did you lie?” 

“It wouldn’t do if anyone found your secret lab now would it?” Vaidya smiles.

“But what about me giving a flower to Mommy?”

“Oh, but wouldn’t it be lovely if you gave your mother a gift? It’d be a shame if you couldn’t show off any of your hard work.” Vaidya practically sings this.

Lily ponders this for a moment. Thinking the idea agreeable, she looks at Vaidya. “What kind of flower should I get her?” Her voice is flustered and pensive, like she feels guilty for having to ask.

“How about a lily?” The choice seems quite natural really. A cheerful little play on words. “Wouldn’t it be just lovely to walk up to your mother and do the same trick you showed us in front of her?” His voice is laced with sugar, trying to bait her in.

The scene Vaidya plays in his mind is a charming little play-by-play display of Lily dramatically flourishing a big, beautiful, pink lily flower for her mother to accept.

Vaidya’s sure Susanna would eat it all up to.

Lily is too it seems. Her mouth widens and her eyes glow at something Vaidya can’t see. Though he imagines it isn’t too different from the scene he conjured up. After some thought though, Lily hesitates.

“But,” Lily starts, “Daddy doesn’t like it when I do alchemy.”

That’s a new one to Vaidya. His parents were more than a bit excited at his own early interest in the craft. “How come? Does he say why?”

“He says it’s dangerwous.” Lily says, downcast.

Well, that isn’t untrue , Vaidya thinks. He and Naidya have certainly had a few situations. The odd fire stands out in his mind. Skilled as his sister is, she still had to start somewhere.

But that’s what supervising is for isn’t it? Alchemy is only dangerous with the wrong selection of herbs. And Silas is an alchemist by trade. There’s not much of a reason Silas can’t teach his daughter, Vaidya thinks.

But to that end, “Maybe you can still show him how passionate you are about alchemy.” Vaidya suggests. “Your mother would love a flower from your hard work, and it'd show your father how serious you are.”

Lily just sort of looks down and drags her feet. Ahead of them, Neville seems to be happily listening along to everything Pearl says.

“It’s worth a try. If you don’t talk to them, they won’t know how you feel either.” Vaidya concludes. “And if they don’t like it, you still have your secret lab.”

After thinking about it for a moment, Lily picks up her pace. Vaidya just lets her think it through as he rejoins the group.

“... and I was so embarrassed! I feel so lucky that the lady working there was nice though, I thought I’d turn into a puddle on the spot.” Pearl rambles. While the group was walking, they ended up in a completely different district. 

Where they are now, the sun is no longer blocked out by Caldemont’s walls. It instead casts its rays on the signboards strewn throughout the area. The area itself has lots of tents and display cases lining the street, each trying to outshine the last in hopes of selling something. 

A little bit of reasoning suggests that this is the merchant district. But a tiny little detail sticks out to Vaidya.

“If you were supposed to go here the whole time, what were you doing on that street we met?” Vaidya interrupts. “Lily’s secret garden is a ways away from this part of Caldemont. And I know you’re Silas and Susanna’s neighbour, so your starting point was from there.”

“Well, you noticed it too didn’t you? It’s really pretty there.” Pearl answers dreamily. “The way all those sparkling lights brighten the dark streets… The contrast of the big blue sky… It makes me feel good.” Her cheeks redden and she sways her head dreamily from the image.

Vaidya just makes a sound of acknowledgement. It’s certainly in character in Pearl afterall.

“And…” Pearl starts with a mischievous gleam. “I couldn’t help myself when I saw Lily and her friend dragging you off.”

Oh.

Vaidya’s cheeks flare up as Pearl and the kids laugh. “Pretty strong for children aren’t they?” She teases.

“They are.” Vaidya concedes, his face is halfway buried in the bouquet from the embarrassment.

“Imagine how I felt seeing you for the first time in months, getting dragged around by my neighbours’ daughter.” Pearl laughs. “I just had to say hi.” 

“I’m glad I caught up with you.” Pearl adds more seriously. “It’s good to see you, Vaidya.”

“And I to you, Pearl.” Vaidya returns the smile in full. The sobriety of Pearl’s words washed away his brief stint of mortification.

“You get caught up in the details sometimes, but I think it’s okay to just take something nice in stride.” Pearl casually alludes to Vaidya’s overthinking. “Afterall, haven’t you been enjoying today?”

Fundamentally, she’s right, Vaidya knows. Once in a while today, he’s been cursing just the sheer luck of the coincidences. Focused down on strange oddities. But really, there’s nothing to do but enjoy it.

Thinking from Pearl’s angle, Vaidya must be quite silly, not that Pearl knows about all of the thoughts that go through his head. Just that she’s right and would laugh at half of those thoughts.

“I have been.” Vaidya smiles.

The conversation dulls out into a warm quietude, a silence that can only come from comfort. Making their way through the makeshift corridors of the marketplace, the group is eventually led to a store.

“This is the place.” Pearl says, and strolls right through the door, the kids follow right behind.

The store from the outside is a pretty stand display, Vaidya thinks. A big glass window with flashy dresses and suits to show the owner’s best picks. Their quality is similar to that of Pearl’s own outfit. 

He, too, walks in.

Pearl’s already chatting up the store owner when he enters the building. Lily and Neville poke around some of the outfits. Vaidya makes his way through the coat-hangers and shelves to join the children.

“Found anything nice?” Vaidya asks. 

On closer inspection, the section that Lily and Neville are in are mostly accessories. Lots of hair ties, bead bracelets, hair bands, the likes. The specific drawer that Neville and Lily are looking in as a selection of animal ear headbands?

Naturally, Lily snaps on a white, floppy bunny ear band. After adjusting it slightly she twirls. “Look! I’m a bunny wabbit!” The ears flop to the sides of her head.

Vaidya smiles. “A very convincing one at that.”

Similarly, Neville snaps on a headband with brown dog ears. He and Lily take turns doing poses as Vaidya watches them. It’s pretty good luck that the only customers here are their group.

Vaidya just sits on a bench, cradles the flowers, and watches the kids chase each other around. From behind, he hears some shuffling, and feels something slide onto his head.

“Having fun?” Pearl asks.

“They certainly are.” Vaidya chuckles. “What’s on my head?”

“See for yourself.” Pearl gestures to a mirror on the wall.

Vaidya meets his reflection’s eye. It has a pair of bunny ears perking over his head. The ears are similarly dark to Vaidya’s own locks of hair. At the right angle, it really does look like Vaidya became a Noxie.

“Charming, aren’t you?” Pearl laughs.

“Just a little,” Vaidya smirks. “Aren’t you shopping for an outfit?”

“Yeah, I’ll be quick too.” Pearl flashes a grin. “I just wanted to have some fun.” She strolls down the aisle and disappears behind a shelf. Vaidya waves her off.

He returns to absentmindedly watching over Lily and Neville. Right now they’re playing a game where they jump over one another. Vaidya rests his head on the wall. 

Now that Vaidya’s seated, he realises just how tired he is. Everything today happened at such a breakneck pace that he hadn’t really gotten the time to just relax for a moment. 

Now that he got that moment, everything just collapsed at once. His body feels so much heavier. His posture slumps. His eyelids droop as the figures of Lily and Neville’s game continue past them.

When he comes to, Vaidya feels like the bench is just a tad less roomy. Shifting slightly, he feels two small bodies leaning on him. He tries to straighten himself up without disturbing either.

“Morning.” An amused girl’s voice says.

Vaidya pushes his eyelids open against his lethargy, and meets a hazy face with silver hair. He opens and closes his hand like he’s supposed to be holding something.

“Don’t worry about the flowers. I took them off you before you could drop them.”

After a few blinks, Vaidya finds himself face to face with Pearl. Once she confirms his consciousness, Pearl sits on the opposing bench. The flowers are laid beside her.

“Been busy today, huh?” She asks.

“A bit more than I was prepared for.” Vaidya admits.

Pearl giggles. “You look very nice with Lily and Neville though. Ears and all.”

At the side, sunlight still gleams into the store, though its orangish hue suggests it’s nearing sunset.

“We’re not disturbing the store owner, are we?”

“They’re a friend. So don’t worry about it much.”

“Did you find an outfit you liked?”

“Right here.” Pearl grins, raising a paper bag.

A few beats of silence pass. Vaidya’s body slowly awakens.

“You know,” Pearl starts. “I really am glad I ran into you today. Besides um-” She trips on her tongue. “The only people I’ve seen from back then are Wally and Hazel.”

“Maggie says she writes to you. Did you read them?”

“Of course I did!” Pearl rises slightly. There’s some heat backing her voice. “It’s not the same though.” She stops for a moment to relax. “I really was happy to be a trainee, even if I wasn’t good at it. Tina, Maggie, You. I think you’re all amazing.”

“That’s giving us too much credit. Tina, Maggie, and I are far from the ideal postknight. I’d hope you noticed that much.”

“It’s not about being a postknight though. The three of you have things you’re passionate about. And you’re amazing at them too!” Pearl leans towards Vaidya, meeting his eye.

“You’re settling down just fine yourself though.” Vaidya says. “I could never live the same way you are.”

“It’s not about that either.”

“Do you have doubts about being a merchant?”

Pearl thinks for a moment, looking at the floor. “Not that either. It’s like, compared to Tina with blacksmithing, or you with alchemy. It feels like I can’t compete with your passion. It’s like being a merchant is just something I happen to do while it’s something you care about.”

“I don’t think I’m as passionate about alchemy as you might think.” The words slip out of Vaidya’s mouth before he actually thinks about them. It’s not that they come out harshly or rudely. It’s like Vaidya’s stating a fact.

Rather than dealing with that can of worms, Vaidya readjusts the topic. “Do you remember your interview as a trainee?” Pearl nods, and Vaidya takes it as an invitation to continue. “Don’t tell Tedric, but Maggie, Tina, and I actually snuck a look at your interviews.”

Seeing Pearl’s wide-eyed look, Vaidya justifies himself. “Tina’s idea” He waves an arm casually, like he’s physically throwing that blame onto his friend. “Tedric was gorging on muffins while going through them.” Focusing, he adds, “Do you remember what you wrote?”

“I remember.” Pearl says. “Or at least, I couldn’t forget. Being a postknight was a lifelong dream of mine.” She rubs the back of her head bashfully. “It’s because I’ve seen how postknights help people, and I wanted to deliver happiness too.”

“Would you say that’s a passion of yours? To make people happy?” Vaidya asks.

Pearl nods.

“I’ve heard you talk about your time as Miss Camellia’s student. Would you say you made people happy as a merchant?”

Pearl nods, with some hesitance.

“Isn’t that fulfilling your passion? In a purer way than me, Maggie, or Tina? We who do our hobbies on the side?”

Pearl hesitates.

“I think you could follow the advice you gave me. You don’t have to focus on the details. You’re doing what you like. And I think that’s enough. If being a merchant is the tool you’re using to make people happy, so be it.”

Pearl thinks.

After some silence, Pearl seems to have come to a conclusion. She smiles and says thanks to Vaidya. “Not bad for a bunny rabbit.”

 Vaidya’s hands jerk to his head as he realises yes, he forgot about the bunny ears. His ears blaze.

“Sorry, I couldn’t think of a good time to mention that.” Pearl giggles out. Her snickering heightens to laughter as she leans backwards on the bench.

Vaidya joins her laughter, and then they’re just two teenagers laughing together in a clothing store.

Beside him, Lily and Neville wake up all mumbly and dreary. Pearl hands Vaidya the bouquet with a nod. Once the kids are fully awake, they return the animal-eared headbands. Pearl and Vaidya thank the shopkeeper and the group heads back to their neighbourhood.

Pearl splits off from Vaidya when they’re near so that she can report back to Camellia. When he reaches the more-than-bottle-shaped house he sees Susanna waiting at the entrance, looking bemused.

“Sorry about this, I didn’t think they’d get that out of hand.” She chuckles. “I heard from the neighbours that they saw you get carried off.”

“They caught me off guard.” Vaidya chuckles. “Won’t happen again.”

Susanna raises an eyebrow, “Oh? Will there be another time?”

“Maybe next time I’m around. I had fun.” Vaidya smiles. Beside him, Neville and Lily beam at the prospect of Vaidya returning. “They’re surprisingly good garden buddies.” He adds, raising his bouquet.

“They look lovely too, maybe I should set them to work on my garden.” Susanna giggles. “Sorry about your reward by the way, dinner got cold because you were out for so long.”

“That’s just fine” Vaidya replies. “If it worries you that much, I can stay over next time I’m in Caldemont.”

“We’ll be waiting then, won’t we Lily?” Susanna looks down to her daughter, who nods enthusiastically. “But for now, goodbye Vaidya. And Neville, since it’s so late you can sleepover. I sent a letter to your mother already.” She takes the kids out from under Vaidyas wing and walks off.

So that’s it. Vaidya starts walking down the street, towards the gate. When he passes by Camellia’s shop though, he sees a familiar face.

A purple haired one, with a trademark blue beanie at that.

“So Pearl wasn’t lying when she said she saw you.” Snarks Maggie. “I heard you’ve been keeping yourself busy. Never thought you’d be suited as a babysitter, but I think I can see it.”

“Hello to you too Maggie” Vaidya says. “I take it you were visiting Pearl?”

“Well I was supposed to surprise her today. Someone got to her first though.” Maggie stares down Vaidya, but there’s no real heat to it.

“She’s happy that you visited anyway though.” Vaidya meets her gaze with a smile.

“I know that! I just wanted it to be, y’know, special.” Maggie averts her gaze, a little sheepish.

“So she has two guests instead of one today. I think that’s special in its own way.”

“I wanted to spend more time with her, I guess.”

“You miss her.” Vaidya flashes a smile.

“Yeah I do. Bite me.” She huffs for dramatic effect. “You took so much time away from me too! What are you going to do about it?” Her tone is a mix of genuine unrest and joking accusations.

“I won’t get in your way next time. Just tell me when you visit, I’ll make sure I’m not even in Caldemont.” Vaidya offers, humor on his tongue.

Maggie grins, like she’s been waiting for a response like that. “Let me one up you on that.” She raises her arm above her head and snaps her fingers. Behind Maggie, the flaps of Camellia’s store swing open, and a silver-haired girl steps out, no longer carrying the goods she brought.

“How about the three of us go to Rossavern?” Pearl suggests. “The food there is amazing, and I’d love to spend more time with you two before you leave.” Her eyes basically shine at the prospect.

Yeah, Vaidya lost this round. Not even fair, having backup like this.

“And that’ll be three Rose Wine Steaks and three Energy Pops?” The aloof dark-haired waiter asks. He scribbles the order in his notebook.

“Yes.” Answers Pearl, smiling ear to ear. “Tell Dahlia it’s-”

“From Pearl, Lady Camellia’s student, yes?” He answers for Pearl without looking up.

“You remembered my name this time!” Pearl exclaims.

“I’d hope dumber people would if you visit this often.” He stares Pearl down.

She puffs out her cheeks. “This is special though! My friends live so far away! It’s been too long.”

The waiter stares at Pearl for a few moments longer. He sighs and walks off.

“It’s my treat. Miss Camellia and Miss Dahlia are friends, so I get a discount when I eat here.” Pearl explains.

“Convenient connections to have.” Maggie says. “How much do you come here? The waiter seems sick of you.”

“Maybe, three-four times a week?” She suggests with a blush. Stretching herself out over the table, she adds, “I can’t help myself though, Miss Dahlia’s cooking is really good. Not to mention how busy I am.”

Well Rosavern is popular. It’s part of why Vaidya was able to use its iconic emblem as a landmark when he was lost. Dahlia’s a good cook by her namesake. “And she serves energy pop of all drinks?”

Pearl laughs. “Well, it’s not the same as what you made in Maille. The energy pop in here is a little bit different.” Pearl says. “Because the formula is just a mixture of leftover herb juices, there are lots of ways to flavour it.”

Huh, Vaidya never thought of it like that. All he really thought of was the initial broth being slightly sweet. And then his instructor’s later recommendation.

“Isn’t this exciting though?” Pearl says dreamily. “You can see the full potential of your experiment. And Dahlia gets to meet the person that helped invent her new popular drink.”

“That’s an exaggeration. I’m sure someone would have used leftover herbs for something. It just happened to be me.” Vaidya corrects.

“Oh yeah.” Maggie interrupts. “What’s with the flowers? Tina saw you with a different bouquet the other day. Are you bringing up a new hobby?”

“Nothing like that.” Vaidya chuckles. “It’s a coincidence. I was helping some children with gardening, and it just so happened that I ended up with another bouquet.”

“Huh.” Maggie says disinterested. “If you’re trying to charm someone, you should probably ask for help. Flowers are a bit boring, don’t you think?”

Vaidya just hums conversationally.

Their banter keeps going for a while. The table they’re seated at is just another island of joy in the tavern’s warm atmosphere. From the outside, they blend right in, chatter, laughter, and all.

It’s an interesting place. Both nobility and commonfolk seem to enjoy Rosavern’s services. 

That waiter, for all his attitude, certainly knows how to get around, dancing through a mess of seats and crowds. The way he swerved across the tavern made it hard to notice that it was their order he was carrying until he was right in front of them.

“Here’s your food.” While setting the dishes, he adds, “Stick around if you finish early. Dahlia wants to talk to you.” He strolls off without waiting for a response. A jet black ponytail trails behind him.

“Eat up!” Pearl grins before taking a bite of steak.

Maggie and Vaidya follow suit. 

Because Vaidya had been studying alchemy as a child, he’s long since trained to be able to feel out the slightest hints of flavours. Naina’s no different. Both siblings have sensitive tongues that suit the family trade.

Tasting ended up being one of the first alchemy-related things Vaidya ended up doing, funnily enough. It was a cute little story. 

One day, Vaidya, barely able to walk, was watching big sister go about some alchemy experiment, the kind that students would practise in schools. Not that he knew it was alchemy training, all he saw was that the girl who watched over him more than his own parents was playing with cups.

So, naturally, Vaidya walked straight up to a cup, and tried to gulp the thing down.

Best he could, anyhow. He could barely walk. His grip strength wasn’t all there. Most of it actually spilt on his face. It was sweet. He was laughing on the ground and licking his lips.

And in his defence, all other cups that he saw his sister with, were almost certainly drinks that she fed him.

Regardless, the next day Vaidya started alchemy training. He doesn’t know why, but his parents took it as a sign of some vested passion for alchemy deep in his blood. 

This meant that before he could even hold a cup properly, Vaidya had tasted most every documented herb in the greater Kurestal area.

It was training that Naina delivered to him. She’d read the name of some herb off of The Herb Almanac before making Vaidya taste a diluted sample. He supposes his parents wanted to hit two birds with one stone there.

He doesn’t actually have any memory of the event itself. All that remained was teasing statements from his sister, and a recollection from his parents.

Right now though, Vaidya’s senses are quite overloaded.

And not in a bad way he’ll have you know. It’s just that so many flavours jump out of him all at once. To the point where knowing everything mixes back into confusion because there’s just so much to process.

Aside from the chewy cut of beef, the main flavours Vaidya can pick out are the sweetness of evercherries and fresh sage. The former out of familiarity. The latter from his research. He can’t quite pick up everything though. Tastes linger on the back of his tongue that he can’t even begin to recognize.

But it’s definitely pleasant. He has no qualms trying harder.

So he takes another bite, chewing more thoroughly than the first. 

And then another.

And then another.

And then what was once a full cut of steak neatly placed on his plate is gone to his stomach. And Vaidya is still missing a few pieces to this puzzle. In his head, he still tries to untangle a few lingering flavours on his tongue.

“It’s good, right?” Pearl grins as she cuts another piece off of her’s.

“It is.” Vaidya smiles.

“You must’ve been hungry to down it that quickly.” Maggie says between chews. “You did eat lunch, right?”

Vaidya takes in a breath of air that he forgot to breathe while eating. “I didn’t.” He admits. “But I wanted to know what Miss Dahlia used to make the dish. I recognized a few of the herbs used. That’s all.” He chuckles awkwardly. He has the decency to look sheepish after the display at least.

His friends laugh. “Well you’ll be meeting her later. Remember what the waiter said? You can ask then.” Pearl replies.

Vaidya nods. He takes a sip of the energy pop to clear his throat.

It’s not sweet like the pop he helps prepare in Maille where the sweetness burns his tongue. Or, at least not that sweet. 

When it first hits Vaidya’s tongue, there’s a fizzy bitterness that crawls on his tongue. The bitterness dissipates soon after, leaving a sweet and sour aftertaste. 

It’s pleasant though. None of the flavours are nearly as strong as the brew Vaidya makes for Tedric. They go together in a nice fizzy package all the same.

He takes another sip and savours it. “You were right, Pearl.” He smiles. “It’s good.”

“Right?” Pearl exclaims. “I feel so fancy drinking it. Like I’m a stylish grandma with a refined taste.” She sways in her seat. Pearl’s conjuring up some lovely scene in her head, Vaidya’s sure.

“But you still like sweet drinks more.” Maggie pipes in. “Don’t think I haven’t seen you head over to Tedric’s to get the original energy pop.” She smirks.

“Something new is nice from time to time. Bonus points for not knowing the recipe like with Tedric’s brew though.” Replies Pearl.

“I don’t think it’s as complex as you make it out to be.” Vaidya says. “It’s still good though.” He takes another sip.

A new voice pipes in from behind Vaidya. “‘Nothing too complex’ huh?” 

Vaidya sputters, turning his head to see the owner of the voice flick her orange ponytail. “I hear you’re making friends, and the first thing I hear is them mocking me? I’m hurt.” She smirks.

“Oh, Miss Dahlia!” Pearl exclaims before Vaidya can stutter out an apology. “The way the waiter talked made it seem like you’d be awhile.”

Dahlia leans her arms on Vaidya’s chair, cupping her face with her hands. She grins. “Oh I just couldn’t help myself. This is the first time you’ve brought anyone over Pearl. I wanted to know what kind of company you keep.” After a pause she adds, “Postknights, huh?”

“Ah, yeah!” Pearl answers. “They’re friends I made back when I was a trainee, before I met you and Miss Camellia.” She gestures to Maggie. ”Maggie was actually the one who introduced me to Miss Camellia.”

“Being a merchant gives me some connections. I thought Pearl could keep up.” Maggie says lackadaisically. 

There’s a cheerful glint in Dahlia’s eye when she replies. “So you’re how we ended up meeting Pearl. If you’re looking out for her enough to push her here I guess you’re pretty good company.”

Maggie puffs her chest out pridefully. “‘Course! Who d’ya think taught her about keeping shop? She might be better than me at bargaining, but I still taught her a thing or two when she was a trainee.”

Dahlia beams. “Well I’m glad at least one of you makes good company for our Pearl.” Turning down to Vaidya under her, she says. “Now what about Mr. ‘Oh it’s nothing too complex’ here?” Dahlia’s version of Vaidya’s voice is high-pitched, like she’s pretending to be a twelve-year-old. ”And what’s with the flowers? Is this some kind of date I walked in on?” 

“This is Vaidya. He’s also the alchemist in Maille.” Pearl answers for Vaidya. “He was helping some kids garden today, so the bouquet’s his prize.”

“Too bad. Red Daisies are a pretty romantic choice, being about passion and all.” Dahlia replies, bored. “The kids didn’t know much about flower language, huh?”

“I think they just wanted to grow something at all.” Vaidya responds. “Sorry about my comment, I was trying to break down the ingredients of your Energy Pop.” He scratches his head.

“Oh really?” Dahlia narrows her eyes with a smirk. She strides a semi circle around their table and resumes leaning on Pearl’s chair instead. “Show me what you got.” She commands, looking straight at Vaidya.

“I-I’m sorry.” Vaidya stutters out. “I didn’t mean to off–”

“Shush.” Dahlia cuts him off. “I don’t care about that. Show me what you got.” At this point, Pearl and Maggie are both awaiting Vaidya’s response too.

“Well…” Vaidya takes a deep breath. “This is a variation of energy pop that’s using Golden Basil broth as its base, it gives it a sort of grainy taste in the background, and helps the sweet and sour aftertaste stay.

That bitter initial taste is definitely Kuroot. It’s cheap to get here, and its sharpness will open your taste buds for the aftertaste.

The aftertaste you have is Foresight Fruit. It’s not a strong sweetness so it doesn’t overwhelm me like the original Energy Pop. Then there’s a hint of lemon to give that sour taste.

In the background, I think I taste hints of Capsid Honey? Not nearly as concentrated as the Energy Pops Instructor Tedric makes me prepare. But it dulls the bitterness of Kuroot just a bit.”

Awaiting Dahlia’s judgement, Vaidya can’t quite bring himself to look up at her. He settles for looking at his plate instead.

He hears the click of a tongue. “Seven points.” Is Dahlia’s verdict. 

She circles the table, much like a vulture in Vaidya’s mind. “Honestly, you’re not all talk, kid. Silas only got three points, and he cheated by being my supplier. You didn’t get everything though.” She rests her palm on Vaidya’s side of the table. “So what’s this about the original Energy Pop?”

Pearl has mercy on Vaidya. “Vaidya’s the one who originally got the idea to use leftover herb broths for energy drinks. It ended up being a popular drink in Maille, and that's why I ended up recommending it.” She smiles at Vaidya.

“Yours is much better than mine though.” Vaidya adds meekly.

“Tedric’s that teal-haired postknight with the sweet tooth, yeah?” Dahlia asks. 

All three postknights, former and not, nod. “I remember he was a friend of one of my old friends. He’s nice, but if he’s directing your drinks, they should all go in the bin.” She grins at Vaidya. “I should thank you for inventing the stuff though, it’s been real popular on my end. Good resourcefulness too.”

“It just happened to be me, that's all. I didn’t want to waste so much after each experiment.”

Dahlia gives a playful scoff. “Puh-lease. If you’re the first one that thought of it, you should own it. Besides, saying it like that makes every other alchemist sound like an idiot.”

Vaidya’s not about to delve into any sort of defamation, so he changes the topic. “You said I missed parts of your Energy Pop. May I ask what I missed?”

Dahlia studies Vaidya. He squirms under her gaze. She speaks up after being satisfied with whatever she found. “Tell you what.” She goes around the table to face Vaidya. “I’ll write you my recipe sometime, and you get to work learning it. Vaidya, right?”

Vaidya nods.

Dahlia flashes a grin, a friendly one this. Without the schemes, sass, or mischief. “Perfect. We’ll get along just fine.”

Suddenly, Dahlia pulls everyone out of their seats and drags them to the door. “Now you kids get outta here. I’m trying to run a tavern here.” She flings them dramatically as the trio stumble out the door. She bellows out a laugh before disappearing into the Tavern.

They were in Rosavern for quite awhile, Vaidya supposes, looking at the starry sky above.

Maggie bursts into laughter after she recovers her balance. “Wow, she’s a real piece of work ain’t she?”

“Well, she runs a tavern. She probably does have to hold her own.” Pearl giggles.

“Chasing us off once she finished chatting us up, is she always like that?”

Pearl puts her hand on her chin thoughtfully. “I think she was in a good mood actually.” She suggests. After a pause, her eyes widen. ”Oh! Vaidya! You never got to ask her about the Rose Wine Steak.” Pearl exclaims.

“That’s just fine.” Vaidya says. “One of two recipes is enough work for me.”

Truthfully, he doesn’t think he’s quite ready for another encounter with the lady. He’ll take her supposed “good mood” as a blessing though.

They hear Rosavern’s door open, and a voice calls “Hey. I heard your conversation. You’re postknights, right?”

The trio turn around to see the waiter approach them. “Yeah, we are. What’s it to you?” Maggie asks.

“I want something delivered.” He says. The waiter procures a letter from one of his pockets. “It doesn’t have to be soon, I just don’t want to go through the paperwork.”

“That sounds kind of sketchy.” Maggie crosses her arms defensively.

“It’s a harmless letter.” He opens it from a distance and shows both sides before resealing it. “I know about the incident with the princess. It’s safe.” The waiter’s tone is flat, disinterested in the outside affairs. “I just want the message sent.” He hides his face in his red scarf. Vaidya thinks he’s just shy.

“If that’s the case.” Vaidya suggests. “I can deliver it sometime. Who is it for?”

“Merchant Carle of Pompon.” The waiter answers. “You don’t have to go out of your way to do it, just deliver it if you’re already going to Pompon or something.”

Vaidya accepts the letter. “It won’t arrive in a timely manner, but I promise it’ll be delivered eventually” He smiles.

The waiter nods. “Good enough for me.” 

The door to Rosavern bursts open as Dahlia calls into the street. “Flint! Get back to work! We’re at peak hours here!”

“...See ya.” Flint walks back into Rosavern before any of the trio can return the farewell.

…

Maggie groans. “What a weird guy. Why’d ya accept the letter Vaidya?” 

“It seemed important.” Was all Vaidya had to say.

“What do you know about him, Pearl? You’re a regular aren’t ya?” Maggie asks.

Pearl sighs. “I’ve tried talking to him before, he just shook me off. Besides that, he came to Caldemont a little bit after me and ended up working for Dahlia. Wally and Hazel seem to know him though. This is the first time I’ve even heard his name, honest.”

“I’m glad we have some friends that know him at least.” Vaidya says, relieved. “Though I wonder why he wouldn’t ask them.”

“Probably some kind of personal business.” Pearl suggests. “I guess this is goodbye though, it’s really late now.” She adds sheepishly. “Sorry for keeping you.”

“Oh don’t you dare apologise!” Maggie exclaims. “It’s our time and we choose how to spend it, right Vaidya?” She grabs his shoulders and looks him in the eye.

Vaidya gives an exasperated half-chuckle. “Excited aren’t we?” Looking at Pearl, he says, “She’s right though. And don’t worry about whether we enjoyed it or not, it was a pleasure.”

“All of it.” Vaidya adds pointedly, turning away.

“Have a safe trip then! Come back soon.” Pearl waves the pair off.

Once Pearl left them, the two postknights signed their names out at the Caldemont gate. Vaidya notes that Cooper isn’t on the night shift. He reminds himself to greet Cooper the next time he visits Caldemont.

Vaidya ponders his time in Caldemont. Generally, he thinks he had a good day. Though there are a few sour notes that sting through the otherwise smooth ordeal.

When he went on about passions with Pearl, he remembers mentioning that he isn’t as passionate about alchemy as she thought. Only now did saying it really sink in though. It’s not that he takes it as an unusual fact, being an alchemist simply is for him.

Then what to do with the weird way that phrase sticks out in his mind? Like some small rock in a shoe you can’t take your mind off.

Vaidya supposes for some reason saying it out loud made this rift in his head.

When the pair are what Maggie decides is a safe distance away from Caldemont, she asks. “Coin for your thoughts?” It’s casual. She doesn’t even glance at him.

Vaidya chuckles, adjusting his hold on the bouquet. “What’s this about now? Offering money for conversation?”

“I’m serious, you know.” She shoots down his joke. “You look like something’s on your mind. Kind of like Pearl a while after she failed her exam.” She still doesn’t look at him. “You’re all mopey and stuff when you’re not talking.”

Vaidya thinks about this for a moment. “Passion, perhaps?”

“What, did what Dahlia said about the flowers get in your head?”

“Not at all. The flowers just happened to line up.”

“What do you mean by passion anyway? If you’re the hopeless romantic type, I seriously misjudged you. That’s Pearl’s job.”

Vaidya laughs at the joke. “Specifically, my passion for Alchemy.”

Maggie groans. “It’s gotta be more than that. If you want to go back to being an alchemist, I’m sure Tedric would love you full time in Maille.”

Vaidya hesitates. “It's the opposite, actually. I’ve been wondering what alchemy means to me.”

“Besides being something that your parents dragged you into?”

Vaidya ponders his parents for a moment. “The thing is that’s never bothered me. I don’t hold a grudge against them for teaching it.” Vaidya coughs. “If I had to put it into words. I wasn’t expecting it to feel so empty. Like alchemy is just some repetitive motion I’ve always been doing.”

“Well, what would happen if you stopped then?”

Nothing, Vaidya supposes. Logistical consequences like the need for his replacement aside, nothing would actually change for Vaidya if he did stop. Taking away a meaningless activity doesn’t make it any more meaningful.

He says as much to Maggie.

“So what’s the problem then?” She asks.

“I can’t really place it.” Vaidya says. “It’s just been weighing on me I suppose.”

“What a stupid paradox.” Maggie snarks. “Alchemy means nothing to you. Doing it or not has no meaning. But not caring about it is still bothering you.” Oh, Vaidya completely agrees.

“It’s just something for me to think through, I suppose.” Is all Vaidya can offer. “Alchemy just seemed farther away than before.”

Maggie clicks her tongue. Unsatisfied, she ends the conversation. “Don’t go around hiding secrets, yeah?” 

Vaidya nods.

It’s similarly flat and casual as her tone throughout the conversation, but there’s a force in it that Vaidya thinks is so perfectly the Maggie that encouraged him and Tina to complete their training.

She really is strong afterall.

The rest of the trip back to Maille resolves itself into a relaxed silence. The sort of purposeful silence where it’s okay to not say anything around the person you’re with. Maggie and Vaidya say their goodbyes and head to their respective dorms.

There’s a letter in his dorm mailbox. He takes it.

He sets aside a vase and fills it with water. The Red Daisies go inside and the vase is placed next to the one of Yellow Poinsettias.

It’s probably long past midnight at this point. Vaidya can’t be bothered to do most of his before bed routine. So he settles for splashing some water on his face and letting his hair loose. 

At a brief glance of the sender’s name that reads From Naina , Vaidya shoves it in the bottom of his black compartment, sorted by date. He’s too tired to think about it.

He practically falls into his bed.

Alchemy is meaningless to him. He knows what passion looks like. Passion is Lily going against all odds and making a secret lab specifically for alchemy. Passion is Pearl looking for every option she can to help people, even after failing to become a postknight.

Passion is definitely not whatever motions Vaidya goes through in the alchemy stand. But he doesn’t hate it either? But at that point why go through those motions in the first place? But at that point, there’s no real reason to stop either?

What a mess really. 

Vaidya at least knows he does care about being a postknight. All the places he ends up going. He loves the chance to help people, and delivering does a lot of that.

But then why is stopping alchemy “similarly meaningless” to doing alchemy at all? It’s in the way of his postknight work afterall, and he has been picking up more shifts.

But then, wouldn’t that mean that there is some kind of hesitance Vaidya has about stopping alchemy entirely? But that doesn’t entirely make sense either he thinks. There’s still something about the whole thing Vaidya’s missing.

Vaidya turns over in his bed, tired of the topic. Instead he thinks about the events of today. Meeting Tina’s brother. Helping Neville. Playing with the kids. Meeting Pearl again. Dining with her and Maggie. Meeting Dahlia. 

In general, Vaidya knows one thing.

Today was a good day .

Chapter Text

For once, the envelope in Vaidya’s hand is not labelled with the familiar signature of his sister.

It’s not even the same type of envelope really. The letters Naina sends are always plain and white, stamped with their family seal and neatly labelled. This envelope’s a rosy peach, with elegant orange markings along its edges and an unsubtle rose seal that could only come from a certain tavern keeper.

In the midst of the Wintertide rush, Vaidya ended up forgetting about their “deal.” Not that it’s much of one. Vaidya thinks all that Dahlia actually wants from him is a bit of entertainment in exchange for the recipe. 

Postknights run at peak hours during the holiday, and he never got the opportunity to open it until the new year passed over. He’s taking the morning off to recuperate.

First though, Vaidya sets the letter down on a table. On the edge are two simple vases, one sporting flowers of fiery red, the other with a cheerful yellow. Vaidya fills up a bowl and waters them both.

After setting the bowl away, Vaidya takes a seat in front of the letter and kicks back. He opens the letter.

Well, it’s not really a letter. Vaidya’s actually a bit put off at how straightforward Dahlia’s gift is. No greetings, no notes, no anything. Just a straightforward recipe for what Vaidya assumes is her brand of energy pop and a tiny little addendum that says send a serving over when you try it!

Skimming over the ingredients, a smile reaches Vaidya’s expression when he reads the ingredients he did identify. Not that Dahlia lets him have that much of a victory. The two ingredients he did miss are circled with bright red ink: low mallow, rotaseed. Outside the circle—also in red ink—is a smiley face, innocuously mocking his mistakes.

Tragically, those are also the herbs Vaidya has a shortage of at the moment.

It’s been some weeks since his first and most recent trip to Caldemont, but Vaidya still has a decent stock of herbs from there to show for it. The same can’t be said for Pompon herbs though.

A few rapid fire knocks sound across his apartment. Vaidya sets the recipe to the side, he’ll try it out later. For now though, he ought to answer his door.

And a purple haired postknight strolls straight into his dorm. She holds a rolled up scroll in her right hand.

“Hello, Maggie.” Vaidya greets his friend with a smile. “Did something happen?”

Maggie casually tosses the scroll onto the table. “Got a quest for you. Tedric thought you’d be up to the job. I’m the messenger.” She slides right into Vaidya’s seat and leans back, tucking her hands behind her head. Maggie eyes the letter still on the table. “Oh hey, that from Dahlia?”

Vaidya nods. “It is. It has the recipe to her energy pop, as she promised.”

Maggie’s right eye narrows, the corner of her mouth rises to meet it in a smirk. “One of the great Dahlia’s oh so secret recipes huh? How much do you think you could make if you resold the drinks?”

Vaidya sighs at his friend’s antics. “She sent it to me in good faith. Let’s leave it out of your schemes, shall we?” He casually slides the letter off the table, and tosses it into a drawer. 

“... Lame.” Maggie rolls her eyes. “Did you try the recipe out at least?” She twists in her seat to keep her eyes on Vaidya.

“Unfortunately not. I don’t have all the ingredients.” Vaidya goes to the kitchen and pours two cups of barley water.

Maggie tugs her trademark beanie down with a glint in her eyes. “What if we struck a deal? I supply what you’re missing, and if this energy pop thing works out, you help me sell it. Call it an investment.”

“Eager as always aren’t we?” Vaidya chuckles. “I appreciate the offer, but the ingredients aren’t so rare that I’d need to outsource them.” He places a cup on each side of the table, and takes the seat opposing Maggie.

“What are these ingredients we’re talking about anyway?” The words come out smoothly, like Maggie’s asking about the weather.

Vaidya sees through her ruse though. “Not going to get them that easily now.” He takes a sip of barley water, a smirk dancing his lips.

Maggie shrugs humorously. “Can’t say I didn’t try.” She also takes a sip.

The two of them laugh. Realistically, Vaidya knows that telling Maggie the ingredients wouldn’t do much harm. Of the antics he, Maggie, and Tina have gotten into, one of them was a hobby exchange. Vaidya’s scrawny arms went to work blacksmithing. Tina tried her hand at bartering. And Maggie…

Yes, Vaidya knows for a fact that Maggie wouldn’t get anywhere even with the right ingredients. A trail of shattered glasswork is proof enough of that. The banter is a bonus though.

“So what is this delivery?” Vaidya changes the topic.

“Oh right.” Maggie relaxes. “You know that whole bug floating around lately?”

Vaidya nods. It caused a small stir. Nothing major from what Vaidya’s heard, new colds pop up all the time afterall. 

“Some alchemists in Pompon have set themselves to do a bit of research on it.” She explains. “Tedric thought you’d work as an extra head while being the delivery boy. Not to mention they’re your buddies. Emelyn and that apothecary with the mask.” Maggie’s face tightens the slightest bit at their mention, a sort of faux pleasantness dancing upon her face. “Some poor sap gets dragged into it everyday. You’re the first one doing it officially.”

Vaidya knows that Maggie has had some, let’s say troubles, with the two. In her defence, some of their eccentricities are a bit much. “I suppose it’s been some time since I’ve last seen them. What exactly am I delivering?”

She takes another sip. “The receipt said that this was enough golden basil to sustain a village like Pompon for months, but you’ll be running errands for them all day.” She clicks her tongue with a raised eyebrow. “Aren’t they a bit wasteful?”

“Experiments tend to be wasteful.” Vaidya sighs. Golden basil’s been a bit of a first response cure since the Fracture Forest Plague. It’s probably seen as a bit too much of a cure-all, but Vaidya digresses. He takes the postknight scroll and rises to his feet.

Maggie joins him and grabs the hand with the scroll. “If you’re not up to it, I can take over for you. It’s not like the weirdos in Pompon know to expect you.” The tone of her offer is perfectly flat. 

Vaidya supposes she still remembers their conversation from a month ago outside Caldemont. “I’ll be fine.” He releases his hand with a chuckle. The two exit the dorm.

Maggie just nods. “Tina’s working on some Pompon deliveries too. Say hi to her, will you?”

“Of course.” Vaidya clasps his hands in a prayerlike motion. Maggie walks off, a casual wave trailing behind her.

Once Maggie’s suitably far away, Vaidya slips the scroll into his bag and sets out to Pompon.

The air around Pompon is quite pleasant, Vaidya thinks. There’s a nice cozy warmth that seeps its way into the air, an aftereffect of the incident with the Kuregon. The smokey residue leaves a mix of woody and fruity scents that Vaidya’s sure is reminiscent of some kind of dish, even if he can’t place just what.

That said, Vaidya admits that the forest itself has had better days. Not to say it hasn’t been recovering, but it’s a far cry from the fresh healthy greens of days past. Rather, there’s a spread of dry crunchy weeds caking the ground, pleasantly crackling under his steps.

Vaidya doesn’t have particularly strong feelings on his assignment. It’s like he said to Maggie: his feelings towards alchemy are perfectly empty.

Not that he’s against assisting others in the trade of course, just that Maggie’s worrying a little too much. He’s been feeling it, this sort of gaze she’s had on him from time to time since their dinner at Rosavern with Pearl, especially on the days he runs his alchemy stand.

He doesn’t want to be ungrateful, it’s just, he doesn’t want to waste her time. The odd thought sticking out really doesn’t need to call for that much concern, he thinks, crushing dried grass into dust as he trudges along.

Vaidya’s quite thankful that Pompon is a quiet town. It’s a nice reprieve from Maille, one that’s not incomparable to Violetfair’s sleepiness—if not as relaxed. Everyone’s calm the same way Violetfair always is, but it’s awake in a way Violetfair isn’t.

Not that it’s busy per se. If it was, Vaidya would’ve been overwhelmed. It’s just that everyone’s taking their time to meet some kind of end. They know what their aim is, but they’re in no rush to reach it.

On the side of the lane, Vaidya sees some workers relaxing on the roof of a half-burnt half-rebuilt home. They’re sipping drinks as they share some casual banter that only comes to Vaidya’s ears as nondescript bumbling.

A bit further down, a group of children and a chaperone—a teacher, Vaidya assumes—are replanting trees and spraying plants (and each other) with water. It’s carefree. It’s probably fine as long as the water reaches some plant’s roots in the end.

There’s a warmth that radiates from the town, the kind where everyone’s just so happy to be where they are. It’s the same warmth as his first visit, and all the ones in between.

Visiting Pompon is a pleasure each and every time. For all the damage the Kuregon wrought, spirits are high. Damage aside, you’d never realise the chaos from months past. Though Vaidya thinks that they might be a bit too on the slow side with some of the fixes. He spies at least a few crispy-looking soot–stained wooden beams.

Near the end of the road is Vaidya’s destination. The colourful stained glass window makes an easy landmark despite its broken state. Each step Vaidya takes, the window’s image transforms again and again in a flurry of colour. 

And, of course, there’s the redhead alchemist at hand stirring away at the cauldron out front. She’s humming a cheerful melody in beat with her stirring—doing a sort of half-dance in her yellow attire.

Vaidya barely catches her eye before she abandons her cauldron and dashes up to him. “Oh Vaidya! You’re the postknight they sent?”

“That would be me.” Vaidya answers, raising the scroll. “And I believe this is the Golden Basil you requested.”

“Right!” Emelyn grins. “Just dump it in the pot. I’ll be right back.” She sprints back into her house. She swings open the door with enough force for it to hit her wall with an audible crack, bounce back, and slam shut. Vaidya winces at the impact. He imagines some smoking crater in the wall from the force, but it’s in one piece.

He takes a peek into the cauldron she was stirring to find a clear, steaming, scent free liquid bubbling from the heat. Yes. Alchemist Emelyn—the genius who cured the Dark Knight’s original plague—was stirring water.

Vaidya shrugs. Maybe it’s just a thing among brilliant alchemists. His sister certainly isn’t short on any eccentricities; an argument she had with Miles on the best evercherries comes to mind. Emelyn isn’t short on achievements either, working alongside the legendary postknight to cure the original plague certainly fills up a resume. Yes, this is probably just normal.

Maybe this is why Vaidya just can’t keep up with his sister. 

He sighs and unravels the scroll. As per Emelyn’s instruction, each golden leaf makes its way into the pot of piping hot water. Steam billows past his face as he stirs the mixture, alternating between an O-shaped and eight-shaped motion. Just as he was taught.

The leaves of Golden Basil go flaccid, squishing together in a sort of yellow-grey clump at the bottom of the now-yellow mixture. A mellow sort of sweet, grainy scent fills the air. 

After most of the leaves are thoroughly greyed out, Vaidya takes a sieve and extracts them, squeezing out the remaining moisture with his hand—quickly too, they’re still piping hot after all. The leaves are all intact, with the firmness of a thin rag or washcloth.

By the time all of the golden basil leaves are strained and squeezed, Emelyn twirls out of her house in a showy pirouette. The door repeats the same motion as before, cleanly closing with a resounding thump. 

Two burlap sacks—each the size of her head—spin around with her pirouette. “And these are for that superhero!” Emelyn tosses them both mid-spin to Vaidya’s feet, who cringes from the clunking and screeching of metal and glass. 

Vaidya gives each sack a testing lift. There’s a bit of heft to them, but nothing that demands a knightmail scroll for the short trip. They clatter at the movement. “May I ask what these are?”

“They’re some specialised thingies.” Emelyn grins. “We probably won’t need them, but we wanted to be sure. Play nice with them. They’re a gift from the scholars.”

It only makes sense, Vaidya supposes. Emelyn has the connections, and it’d be more surprising if the Aldor Scholars weren’t the least bit invested in a cure for this newer sickness. Not to mention the reliability of the alchemist in front of him.

Kneeling down, Vaidya stuffs both sacks into his bag. It’s a tight fit, but after some adjustments, Vaidya adapts comfortably.

Emelyn walks to the cauldron. “While you’re taking those away, I’ll be working on– Oh! You already finished with the Golden Basil!” Her eyes widen theatrically, but Vaidya’s pretty sure she’s just playing around. She should know of his capabilities afterall.

Vaidya just nods. “I thought I’d be a bit of help.” He smiles.

Emelyn matches his smile with a beaming expression. “Your bit of help saves me some time though. So thanks for that.”

“The rest of the research is on you though. I wish you luck with it.” Vaidya waves back at her before turning to head off. 

Vaidya’s quite confident Emelyn won’t stop waving until he’s out of sight. He quickens his pace.

Emelyn’s pleasant, Vaidya thinks. He’s making his way down the path to the apothecary’s abode. She’s never not friendly really, always scrambling and chattering about. 

It’s warm really. The display of friendliness she always shows. The welcoming sort of cheer that drags you in before you realise. Probably the most excited anyone’s been to hear Vaidya had alchemy experience anyhow.

Though Vaidya admits that that same attitude can get in the way of his colleagues. She’s a bit too laid back he’ll admit. And the mess being cleaned up usually takes an extra delivery.

They’re a regular client for the postknights, always tossing materials back and forth between each other. Not to mention Emelyn’s endless letters and the apothecary’s packages to and from Lily (which Vaidya will ask the girl about, later of course).

Sometimes, Vaidya doesn’t get why they need the postknight’s support. On days like this—where it’d make so much more sense for them to work together directly—they still end up relying on the postknights.

It makes sense for the apothecary to live a ways away, he handles dangerous materials afterall. But considering Emelyn’s experience in the Fractured Forest, she’s more than capable of making the relatively short trip.

That said, this is the first time he’ll be staying as an active helper. Maggie was their helper last time, a week or so ago if Vaidya remembers right. She had some scathing reviews of the day. Honestly, he’s touched Maggie offered to do it all over again.

Here’s hoping Vaidya hangs in better than she did.

Moving his mind to other places, Vaidya settles his focus on the path, the underbrush, and the boy picking herbs on the side of the trail.

Well, this is familiar.

Vaidya crouches beside the boy. “Hello, Neville.” He smiles.

Hearing Vaidya’s voice, Neville perks up instantly. “Oh it’s you!” He exclaims. 

“Yes, it is me.” Vaidya chuckles. “What are you up to, Neville?”

“I’m picking plants for Lily!” Neville shows a toothy grin. “I remembered that Ro-tor-seed and Low Mel-low stuff you mentioned! Miss Emelyn showed me what they looked like!” He makes a wavy hand gesture before switching to one where his fingers pop out. Low mallow and rotaseed respectively, Vaidya assumes.

Vaidya takes a peek at Neville’s basket. “You certainly made yourself a collection of Rotaseed and Low Mallow. Lily will be happy.” The contents are disorganised, but Vaidya definitely recognizes those wavy leaves of Low Mallow and the bright orange wings of Rotaseed. 

Neville shakes his basket proudly with both hands and wobbles to his feet. “Yeah! They’re a lot easier to find than Valley Bells!”

“Not having much luck with the flowers then?” Vaidya raises an eyebrow.

“Nope,” Neville makes a popping sound with his mouth. “But that’s okay, I picked a bunch from before! I’m ready the next time I see Lily!” Neville tries to pump his arms in the air. The weight of the basket sends him stumbling.

Vaidya catches the basket before Neville can fall over. “You might need to take half with you for your next trip.” He suggests. “You can only carry so much afterall.” He hands the basket back.

Neville ponders this. “What should I do with the ones that don’t go to Lily? Mom doesn’t like having too much in the house. She says it’s a waste.” His eyes scrunch up into two little arches from thinking.

Vaidya supposes that the timing couldn’t have been better. “Well…” He starts. His finger taps his chin rhythmically, making a show of thinking. “Do you know any other alchemists?”

Neville’s face scrunches up more, twisting into all sorts of weird and silly contortions. “Not Miss Emelyn.” He says. “She picks herbs too often, she doesn’t need mine.”

Makes sense. Vaidya hasn’t seen her work in person, but Emelyn just seems like that type of alchemist to keep her herb stock full at all times. Not to mention squandering it all at a moment’s notice—seeing how the Golden Basil was treated at least. 

So Vaidya presses on. “Anyone else you know?”

Neville hums thoughtfully. “That mystery doctor man doesn’t really use plants around here. He always has these fancy things that I’ve never seen.”

That also matches what Vaidya knows. A part of Vaidya wonders why the apothecary lives in Pompon of all places. Though considering the variety of herbs that he requests on the regular, no one place is truly suited to his needs. To that end, being on the border of Kurestral and Quivtol makes quite a bit of sense, he supposes.

But, “isn’t there someone you’re forgetting?” Vaidya hides an amused smile with his hand. “Anyone else that might be familiar with alchemy?”

Neville tilts his head. “I can’t do Lily’s dad. He’s too far away.”

At this point Vaidya wonders if his knowledge left any impression at all on that day in Caldemont. He thought his instructions on Valley Bells would have left something behind. “Maybe someone in walking distance then? They don’t have to be from here. But they might be right in front of you.”

Neville’s neck straightens, his face untwists and his mouth goes into an o-shape in realisation. “Oh! Mister, do you want my leftover Rotaseed and Low Mallow?”

Sighing with relief, Vaidya gives a warm smile. “That’d be lovely.” He answers. “I actually wanted to pick some while I was here, so you’d save me some time.” He gives his pack a peek. “I don’t have the space for it now though. Would it be alright if I came to your home later?”

Neville nods. “I’ll keep them safe for you!” He does an odd little half-shuffle in an attempt to cheer.

Vaidya clasps his hands in front of himself and nods. “Thank you, Neville. I should be going though, I am on duty afterall.”

“Okay mister, bye!” Neville half-skips half-waddles the way Vaidya came from.

Looking back on the interaction, Vaidya wonders just how much is he associated with alchemy? Alchemy is something Vaidya associates with himself, even if it’s felt further and further away. But being the last pick out of a selection of alchemists does shun that confidence a bit. Not to mention Emelyn’s apparent surprise at his help.

It’s just something that happens, he supposes. Vaidya doesn’t mind the paradigm shift. He has been working for more deliveries afterall. It only makes sense for his image to shift in that direction.

For all intents and purposes, the apothecary’s abode is very… serviceable. And Vaidya means “abode” in the purest sense he’ll have you know. He can’t quite tell if it’s more of a tent or a house.

There’s a very distinctive framing to the abode. Panelled walls of greyish leather and wooden shafts give the abode a distinctive form. Similarly greyish leather expands outwards from this form—as patchy roofing held up by wooden poles and as carpeting. The whole display comes off like a very drab circus.

A couple tables are spread out over the carpeting. Most sport some apparati, multi-colored fluids, and tools. A few colourful stains cover the mostly consistent—if stitched together—grey. There’s a particular set of tables without the same mess on top. Where his contraption is meant to go, Vaidya presumes.

Naturally, the apothecary is already at work. He’s masked as always, and seemingly fussing over some complex looking contraption of glass bottles in a maze of glass tubing. Notably, Vaidya sees one of the glass bottles in this contraption glowing a menacing sort of purple.

A few steps closer and the apothecary twists around. “WHO’S THERE?” His voice is muffled by his mask, but he makes up for it in volume. “I’M WORKING ON A DANGEROUS PROJECT, YOU SHOULD STEP AWAY.”

“Hello there!” Vaidya shouts louder than usual for the apothecary’s sake. “It’s Vaidya! I have a delivery from Emelyn!” Vaidya thinks his voice sounds wrong at this volume. It’s always too high pitched. Or too scratchy. Or there’s some phlegm in his throat. It makes Vaidya cringe.

Not that the apothecary is any the wiser. “OH VAIDYA! ARE YOU THE HELPER THEY SENT?”

Vaidya clears his throat, swishes saliva in his mouth trying to make sure his voice comes out right. “If ‘they’ refers to the postknights, then yes that’d be me!” Vaidya would much rather talk at his normal volume, but he can make due. “I have some tools Emelyn got from the scholars!”

“LEAVE THEM ON THE GROUND.” the apothecary yells. “DON’T GET TOO CLOSE. IT’S DANGEROUS.”

Surely Vaidya should be of at least some use since he’s here. “Do you have a spare mask? I can leave the tools on that table there while you work on that!” He gestures to the empty table.

The apothecary considers this for a moment. “STAY WHERE YOU ARE.” He commands. Vaidya hears the shuffling of walking on leather as the apothecary heads back into his abode. Moments later, he procures an identical mask to his own beak-shaped one, and throws it to Vaidya’s feet. “PUT THAT ON. STAY AWAY FROM THIS PART THOUGH.” He gestures to tools he was fussing over.

Vaidya puts on the grey leather mask to the apothecary’s instruction. It’s tightened just enough for him to feel it squeeze his face. It’s a bit stuffy. When Vaidya breathes the air’s movement spreads to the rest of his face. He makes due though.

As the apothecary goes back to work, Vaidya goes to place his bag down by the empty table. Vaidya follows the instructions of a slightly crumpled manual left in one of the sacks. 

It’s simple mechanical work really, what the manual says goes. Fire basin there? Check. Glass tubing connecting two flasks? check.

The two of them continue at an even pace. Vaidya doesn’t look over at the apothecary, but with the sounds of shuffling, liquids pouring, and glass clinking suggests he’s certainly keeping himself busy.

A few steps into the process, Vaidya recognizes just what contraption he’s tasked himself with building. It’s a distiller. A fancy sort of contraption that made a lot of ruckus back when Vaidya was a toddler.

To an extreme end, it’s just a complicated water boiler really. They’re used to suck the moisture out of a mixture so that the only thing that remains is whatever was in the mixture to begin with. 

There’s some famous experiment involving pure distilled Glowbud oil that led to alchemists from all over wanting to try one of their own. A few papers went so far as to claim that distillers “made an entirely new dimension of alchemy.” 

Vaidya’s parents were in that crowd that jumped on it. Got one for themselves, and for the kids when they’re older of course. Future-proofed too! Because this technology is so clearly reliable! Naturally a worthy investment!

As it turns out, only a select few herbs had any compatibility with distillers at all. Most would leave behind mostly burnt compounds that were a pain to scrub off. Life moved on.

Nowadays, Vaidya usually hears about distillers being used to make sauces or drinks. Might be worth asking Dahlia about, now that it comes to mind. Granted, it might serve its original purpose here—assuming of course, Pompon’s dynamic duo needs it.

And also assuming, of course, that the thing works. There’s a broken hinge in Vaidya’s hand that seems to suggest otherwise though. When he fiddles with it, it just refuses to clamp properly.

Well, Emelyn was a little rough with the sacks. Vaidya sighs. He supposes the shenanigans begin now.

Vaidya turns around. He checks that the apothecary isn’t taking anything precise before calling out. “Excuse me!” Vaidya calls. His voice echoes in his mask. “One of the pieces to the distiller is broken!”

The apothecary continues his motions as if Vaidya didn’t just use his embarrassingly off-pitch and scratchy loud voice, amplified by the stuffy mask. 

So Vaidya tries again. A bit louder. A bit more off pitch. So scratchy Vaidya feels the walls of his throat rubbing. His voice echoes even louder in the mask—hollow, distant, but pounding. At least it gets the job done this time.

The apothecary turns around this time and tilts his head. Vaidya waves him over and smiles, not that it’s visible behind the mask, just a habitual polite tic. “One of the hinges for the distiller is broken! I can probably ask the blacksmith in town to fix it! Do you need anything else delivered?”

The apothecary tilts his head thoughtfully. “WAIT A MOMENT.” He runs back to the table and scribbles something on a sheet of paper. Satisfied, the apothecary roughly grabs it and hands it to Vaidya. “GIVE THAT TO EMELYN WHILE YOU GET THAT FIXED.”

“Much obliged!” Vaidya takes the paper and heads off. Once he’s suitably far away he takes off the plague mask and lays it on the ground. A pleasant coolness settles on his face. “I’ll be leaving the mask here!” He says, with less force now that the mask is off. The apothecary just turns back to his work with a sharp nod.

Vaidya takes a cursory glance at the paper he was handed. He can’t quite make out the words from the sharp twisty cursive, but it’s some kind of list. Folding the page, he slips it in his bag.

Electing to start the repairs as soon as possible, Vaidya takes the loose hinge to Pompon’s blacksmith before delivering the apothecary’s note.

The still-damaged roofing aside, Pompon’s blacksmithing station is in relatively good shape. Though he does note a canvas covering part of the roof, with bright yellow hay roofing pooling from underneath. House aside, the red brick kiln and stone anvil are in good shape, which is all Vaidya needs as the customer.

Except for the fact that he also needs the blacksmith’s acceptance. “Sorry, Postknight. I’m not too good at working with these sorts of contraptions.” Hayden awkwardly twists his moustache, sighing. “More of an equipment guy, you get me?” He slides the hinge back to Vaidya.

Unfortunately, there aren’t many other options. Vaidya pushes it back. “It’s already broken, so you don’t have to worry about breaking it any more than it is.” He’s a little bit desperate here, in case they really do need a distiller. “I know I’m being insistent, but would it be alright to ask you to try?”

Hayden sighs. “Just don’t get your hopes up there. Come back in awhile. See if I’ve given up.” He takes the hinge and waves Vaidya off, turning to some other project he’s been hammering away at. 

Vaidya feels a bit guilty for being demanding, but there really aren’t so many options around. After a few more thanks and pleasantries, he goes down the road, past Carle’s shop, and back to Emelyn’s. 

At Carle’s shop, Vaidya thinks that he’s forgetting something about the merchant, but he brushes it off. He still needs to play assistant afterall.

A cheerful, clear, but somewhat off-tune hum floats along in the sound of Emelyn’s voice. A bit closer, and some rather volatile splashing beats beneath it like drums. Both are more energetic than the humming and stirring from Vaidya’s first stop here. Like Emelyn’s cheer went from a light simmer to a full-blown boil.

She doesn’t seem particularly busy, but she never does. Just to be safe, Vaidya seats himself on a nearby crate and watches her continue her work. He doubts there’s that much of a rush anyhow if she’s working this hard. He supposes some of his colleagues might now appreciate this sort of waiting though.

Vaidya would also feel kind of guilty for interrupting. She looks like she’s enjoying herself at least. Nothing much to do but watch the alchemist in her natural habitat. Joyously twirling about her station. Tossing herbs in her cauldron. Wafting in the scents of her solution.

Offhandedly, he wonders what he looks like when he goes about alchemy. He doubts he’s anything like the scene before him, looking more like a child at play than an alchemist curing a plague.

But he doubts he’s comparable to his sister either. When Naina does her tasks, Vaidya can almost see some immaterial veil between them. Like there’s some kind of holy barrier that thou shalt not pass. Her devotion to alchemy is something Vaidya doubts any priest can come close to.

She just seems so far away when she goes about her work.

After a few more moments of her motions, Emelyn catches Vaidya’s eye mid-twirl. Pausing for a moment, she catches herself. “Oh! You’re back! Any news from that hero of ours?” Thankfully she doesn’t seem to question how long Vaidya was waiting.

“He gave me this.” Vaidya pulls out the list from the apothecary and offers it to Emelyn. “I can’t quite make out the writing though.” He admits, scratching his head with his other hand.

Emelyn accepts the page, making an audible hum as she skims through the page. “Oh I see.” She grins. “The thing I sent from the scholars might be useful afterall, but,” she pauses, like she’s making sure she’s reading properly, “what’s this about it being broken?”

“It’s not anything major.” Vaidya sighs. “But yes, one of the hinges for the distiller came loose. I already sent it to Blacksmith Hayden. Though I can’t guarantee it’ll be fixed.” He does want to add though, “Please do be gentler with potentially fragile materials the next time you hand them out.” He presses his palms together in front of him.

Emelyn just laughs it off. This nonchalance is probably what drove Maggie up the wall. Vaidya can’t imagine his friend would appreciate waiting around only for something to break and make her wait longer. “Oh well. We can just test one of his other theories while we wait!” She smiles at Vaidya. “Wanna help?”

“At your service.” Vaidya chuckles. Emelyn’s cheer is a bit infectious. They get to work.

For the breakneck pace Emelyn works at, it’s surprisingly easy to work with her, Vaidya thinks. Not to say keeping up is easy per se—he means it when he says Emelyn’s fast—just that it’s far more manageable than watching her juggle apparati and herbs would suggest.

Most of the tasks Vaidya’s assigned are simple. The sorts of duties a research assistant would attend to. Duties he’s perfectly qualified for. Emelyn seems to enjoy it too. With Vaidya managing the more menial tasks, she can focus on the more complex theoreticals and measurements.

Makes a fun little show of it too. He can’t say for sure, but Vaidya thinks Emelyn’s showboating. Like when she throws a clump of herbs into the cauldron he’s mixing, or when she reads out one of the apothecary’s theories; she explains the theories and studies that the apothecary builds off of as she goes about her work. It’s nothing Vaidya’s never heard before, but it’s still somewhat humbling to remember how the research builds and compiles.

By now, the two have brewed a selection of golden basil mixtures. While most bottles sport the expected golden sheen of the extract, some mixtures turn hues of orange or green in response to the seemingly random selection of herbs they’re mixed with.

Vaidya supposes Emelyn and the apothecary have been preparing this project for quite some time. At a glance at least, a good few of the herbs Emelyn’s mixed go well beyond Kurestal’s borders—and Vaidya’s confident in that judgement at the very least.

He’s not sure what’s more impressive really, the crazy extensive collection Emelyn’s procured from her travels, or that guiltless ease she has when she carelessly chucks them into the cauldron. “Where did you pick all these herbs from? I don’t believe most of these are from Kurestal.”

Emelyn leans back and belts out a laugh. “You’d be right on that! I keep them as souvenirs whenever I go someplace.” She tosses a bundle of reddish leaves into the cauldron.

Raising an eyebrow, Vaidya continues stirring. “You’re rather carefree with using these ‘souvenirs’ aren’t you?”

“Well. If I run out, isn’t that just the greatest excuse to return there?” She answers, nonplussed. “I’ve always been looking for a reason to take a boat back to Ammereane.” 

That makes sense, but… “It looks like you have quite a bit of travelling on your belt then.” Vaidya eyes the rows of test remedies they’ve prepared.

Emelyn just gives off another open-mouthed smile. “All the better for me then! I’ve been meaning to say hi to some folks back there anyway.”

“Speaking of travelling actually,” Vaidya starts. “Why is it that you and the apothecary work separately? I’m sure you’re more than capable of carrying a few herbs and tools to his, abode.” He pauses just the slightest bit at ‘abode,’ wondering if Emelyn would understand his phrasing.

Emelyn makes a popping sound with her mouth. “He won’t let me.” She says it simply, like commenting on perfectly ordinary weather. In Emelyn’s voice, it almost sounds disappointed, Vaidya thinks.

The prospect is just the littlest bit odd to Vaidya. “May I ask why? I’m sure you’re more than capable of being his partner.”

“He’s just being careful really.” Emelyn gives off a thin-lipped smile. “Dealing with diseases and everything can get a lot of people into danger. And there was a little incident where a fire broke out from one of his experiments.” She gestures vaguely around the town. “The newer burns around here are from that, not that whole dragon incident.” 

Seeing Vaidya’s expression shift, she quickly adds that no one was all that injured by it. “Nothing some salve didn’t fix.” She said, “he’s just scared.”

Vaidya nods. “I can see why he’d be worried.” He sighs, “alchemy’s… not always the safest trade.” He holds up a glass bottle with a metal claw and swishes it through the cauldron to fill it. It gently taps the table to dry once he finishes. Hot yellowish liquid either flows down the side of the bottle or steams up into the air.

“Yeah.” She agrees, chewing her cheek. “But he shouldn’t hide himself away either. He’s still doing his best to help.” She takes a few steps and waves her arms wildly towards the builders Vaidya passed by. “Like them! Even if some of us take a more relaxed pace, we’re all trying!” After a beat, her expression turns sheepish from the outburst.

Emelyn sighs and takes short, quick strides to a table that she sits on. “Blossomfest’s coming up soon. I’ve actually been helping the chieftess with the preparations.” Emelyn’s face brightens at the thought. “I might not look it, but I’m a pretty good gardener.” She says, flexing an arm with a grin. Not that Vaidya can tell what muscles have to do with gardening.

“Anyways.” Emelyn grips the edge of the table, waving her legs. “I’ve been preparing something a little special for him. A bouquet just for him.” She grins. “He ought to know how much good he does too!”

A short silence passes. Vaidya doesn’t have much to add besides a hum of agreement, so he just keeps stirring the cauldron, letting the swish of liquid fill in the awkward pause.

Emelyn’s eyes flash in realisation. “Oh! You can probably check on Hayden now.” Hopping off the table, she casually takes the ladle and gently shoves Vaidya off. “I can take over.” She grins. “Leave your bag here, I’ll get to packing up.”

Vaidya nods. “If he’s finished, I’ll take the hinge and the mixtures we’ve finished over to the apothecary.”

“And if it’s broken, we can just work with what we have.” Emelyn smiles.

“Well well well, Hayden tells me about some polite, soft-spoken postknight with a weird request. And look who we have here.” A green-haired postknight leans up against the wall all casual-like, an elbow against the wall and a hand at her hip. Her pearl earrings flash in the sun.

They’re just outside the Pompon’s smithery. Vaidya was just about to check in on Hayden’s work when this familiar face showed up.

Vaidya half-chuckles half-sighs. “Just how long were you waiting there, Tina?”

Tina unlatches herself from the wall and wags her finger playfully. “I wasn’t just waiting here I’ll have you know. Didn’t you have a little something you needed fixed up?”

“The hinge is fixed then, I take it?” Vaidya relaxes at the thought.

“Naturally. That shepherd’s gate has a few similar parts. It works out in our favour.” She leads Vaidya into the workstation. “You’re lucky I was here.” She flaps her hair smugly.

“That I am.” Vaidya agrees. “How did you end up taking Hayden’s place?”

“Guy knows his way around equipment, being from Ironwald an’ all but…” Tina trails off. In a lower voice, she adds, “Between you and me? He doesn’t know a thing about mechanics. He was just staring at the thing until I showed up.”

“I can’t say I agree with your attitude. But I am thankful for your help.” Vaidya sighs in exasperation.

Tine meets it with a grin. “That’s all I need then.”

The pair turn the corner, out to Hayden’s workstation. Once Hayden’s in view—now working on some bright yellow bear-like helmet—Tina shouts. “Hey Hayden! Your ‘polite, soft-spoken postknight customer with a weird request’ is here!”

Hayden sets his hammer down in response. He looks up, unimpressed with Tina’s antics. “You could be a bit nicer with him right there.”

Smiling sweetly, Tina replies “What? I’m just using your own words.”

Sighing, Hayden looks to Vaidya. “Sorry about her. The lil’ doo-dad you put in is fixed up though.”

“It’s no problem.” Vaidya chuckles. “If anything I owe you an apology on my friend’s behalf. Seems she’s caused you some trouble.” He shakes off the heat from the aforementioned’s glare. 

Hayden shrugs. “We’ll call it even since she fixed up your little doo-dad here.” He gestures to the hinge laying on the edge of a table. 

It’s far from ‘even,’ Vaidya thinks. It just so happened that one of the two problems cancelled the other, so he can’t help feeling some guilt. Seeing Vaidya hesitate, Hayden waves him on. “Go on then, what’s done is done. You don’t see me complaining anyhow.”

“Much obliged, Hayden.” With a half-bow, Vaidya takes the hinge and scurries off. Tina follows along, flashing a wink at Hayden before turning the corner.

“You don’t need to worry all that much, y’know.” Tina teases on their way to Emelyn’s. “Hayden’s a softie. He won’t actually hold it against you.” With a laugh, she adds, “Besides, have you seen that helmet he’s working on? It’s like a teddy bear. He’s a total softie. Someone who makes anything like that can’t really hold a grudge.

Chuckling, Vaidya lets himself have a small smile. “The helmet was quite cute.”

Tina grins. “See? Wasn’t that hard. Hayden’s basically our age anyway. He’s what? Two or three years older? You’re treating him like he’s thirty.”

“I just didn’t want to trouble him.”

Thoughtfully, Tina takes a moment. “Well, there’s not much you can do there.” She concludes. “I said he’s not much of a mechanic, but he doesn’t really care about smithing all that much.” Seeing Vaidya give a slow, somewhat hesitant nod, she chuckles, “I know right? He looks born into it.”

“But,” Tina pulls her hands behind her head and leans back as they walk. “He’s still from Ironwald. Doesn’t give much of an option for anything else, even now that he’s here in Pompon. Just how things go, really.”

Vaidya can emphasise. Though he supposes he’s lucky, or more stubborn, in that sense. Maybe both. Afterall he’s out in Pompon as a postknight instead of back in Violetfair as an alchemist.

The day he left to be a postknight was… messy to say the least. His parents had alchemy planned out for him from the start. It was never going to be a clean cut. Despite that, a lingering part of Vaidya regrets just how it all turned out. It didn’t help that he couldn’t fully grasp why he had to be a postknight.

Even now, he can’t quite say for sure why he chose this path. That said, Vaidya regrets nothing about being here, right now, as a postknight. Learning to do deliveries, meeting Maggie and Tina, travelling about Kurestal. Everything confirmed his feelings. He has to be a postknight.

Since he started, there’s been this heft in his chest—maybe confidence, maybe the sunk-cost fallacy—that pushes that feeling. But turning back isn’t an option for Vaidya. Those feelings aren’t just him being a rebellious adolescent with more dreams than vision.

Following his train of thought, Vaidya’s mind shifts to Naina. It’s a bit embarrassing actually, that the last time Naina’s heard of him was that day he split off, arguments and all. Not exactly a stellar last impression. The letters don’t help either.

Offhandedly, he wonders what she thinks of him.

Tina kicks him in the shin, not too hard, just enough to sting. Looking away innocently, she says, “I don’t like that expression of yours. Care to share with the class?”

Relaxing his face, Vaidya considers Tina’s offer. “Maybe later.” He decides. “I still have some work to finish. We can travel back to Maille together.”

“Suit yourself. Meet me at the inn. I’ll be waiting” Tina strolls off with a wave, leaving Vaidya in front of Emelyn’s home.

When Vaidya steps into the yard, he immediately hears a shout of “Welcome back!” Followed by a query from Emelyn. “Did you know about this letter in your bag? It’s a bit crumpled, but I don’t see an address or anything.” To her word, she holds up the letter. 

Vaidya takes it. “I don’t recall…” The letter’s certainly seen better days. When Vaidya trails his finger over the black envelope edged with red, dusty paper specks stick to his hand. Was probably in his bag for a while.

Something with such a jagged colour scheme during Winterfest of all times would certainly stick out too much, so it would have to be from before then. Where did Vaidya go a month ago? He has less deliveries than most other postknights, so it can’t be that hard to remember. Not to mention that he can’t imagine anyone from Maille sending a letter quite like this—black and red just wouldn’t suit Tedric or Hettik or Sandy. Which leaves that time in Caldemont when he went dining with Pearl and Maggie and accepted that odd request—

Ah. He forgot about that didn’t he?

A low mumbly groan makes its way out of Vaidya’s throat as his cheeks heat up. Flint did say the letter wasn’t in a rush, but Vaidya seriously thinks this is pushing it. The care he gave the letter certainly doesn’t help his case there either.

“Are you okay? Vaidya?” Emelyn’s voice is about an octave lower out of concern, but Vaidya doesn’t give it any mind.

Rather, he rubs his face, the friction giving a weak but satisfying sting. He takes a deep breath. After a moment he answers, with exasperation, “I’ll be fine.” Then taking another breath and asking, “Would it be alright to delay the delivery slightly? I need to send this to Merchant Carle.” He knows the answer though, seeing as Emelyn hasn’t finished packing.

“You don’t need to apologise. I’m glad this letter was able to arrive at all, really.” Merchant Carle’s voice is gentle, and Vaidya has a hunch his slightly widened eyes are out of worry more than anything else.

Vaidya still disagrees though. “I should still apologise. If it’s so important, I should have given it far more care. I have no excuse.” With closed eyes, he presses his hands in front of him in a bowed stance.

Carle chuckles. “It’s quite alright, really. I know Winterfest is a busy time.” In a smooth motion, he reaches for a glass. “Would you like something to drink for your troubles?”

Vaidya opens his eyes. “No no, I couldn’t.”

“I insist. I’d like to talk to you anyhow, I hope you’re not in a rush.”

“Well, Emelyn’s still packing for a deliv-”

Carle smiles. “Perfect.” Vaidya feels an odd sense of authority from Carle, even though his tone is mostly the same as before. He complies.

So Vaidya finds himself seated in Carle’s house. The only fitting word for it is ‘tidy’ really. Vaidya supposes it’s not much of a surprise given Carle’s demeanour. It’s a perfect match for his priest-like attire too, the carpeting and tablecloths all don similar bodies of white edged with blue.

At a glance, the letter seems to have no place in this house. A total inversion. The black and red starkly contrast the table it lays on unopened. Not to mention the signs of its rough journey contrasting this place’s tidiness. Vaidya wonders just how Flint and Carle know one another.

The gentle clinking of two glasses on wood rings out. An orangish colour in each glass. Peach tea. “Sorry for the wait, I wasn’t expecting guests.” Somehow Carle’s the one looking sheepish in this position.

Vaidya scratches his head. “Again, I should be the one apologising. I did come unannounced.”

Carle chuckles, neat combed blonde hair rustling with the movement. “Well, we’re not going anywhere if we keep apologising in circles.” He pulls the chair opposite to Vaidya back and takes a seat. After taking a slow drawn-out sip of the peach tea, he asks, “So how is he? Flint, I mean.”

Vaidya scratches the back of his head, chuckling. “Like I mentioned, it’s been about a month. But he seemed to be doing well. He’s working as a waiter in Caldemont.”

Carle’s lips turn upwards. “I’m glad he’s doing well for himself.” His voice is light, fluttery. Definitely interested in the topic, but Vaidya thinks he’s keeping a distance. “Moving to the city is a big step, how has he been adapting?”

“I wouldn’t know too much outside of his work. We only met for one day.” Vaidya admits. “He’s skilled at navigating a busy tavern though.” He remembers the ponytail trailing about as Flint danced through the tavern—taking orders and delivering meals. Yeah, he’s probably doing just fine.

Carle nods. “I’m glad then.” 

Vaidya takes a sip of the peach tea. Too sweet, as expected. But it does feel nice to drink something cold right now. He has been running about for awhile afterall. “Sorry that I don’t have the most satisfying answers. If you want to know more you’d be better asking Miss Dahlia or postknights Wally and Hazel.”

Carle shakes his head slowly, never taking his eyes off of Vaidya.“All I wanted to know is that he’s doing okay really. This is enough.” He smiles. “Besides,” he slides the letter over to himself, holding it up. “If I have any more questions, I could ask the source now, yes?” He says with a wink.

Getting caught up in Carle’s attitude, Vaidya chuckles. “That’s true.” 

The pair sit in silence for a while, sipping at their glasses. Now that the initial panic Vaidya felt when he first knocked on the door has subsided, Vaidya thinks the home is rather comfy. The host’s easy to talk to at least. 

A few handicrafts are scattered on the tables, carved toy boats, children’s toys, the works. Vaidya breaks the silence. “Seems you're rather handy with carving, I take it?”

Carle chuckles. “You’ve noticed then. I learnt how a long time ago now, when I was a priest.” There’s a sudden tension Vaidya feels from Carle, but it dissuades just as suddenly. “I learnt to carve these small wooden figures then. I’m not a priest anymore but I still carve from time to time.” With a smile, he adds, “tiny ships are a favourite of mine.”

Vaidya eyes a familiar looking toy ship. “I’ve seen these tiny ships with some shipped goods sometimes. Were those yours?”

Carle’s laugh is very homely, like it’s rewarding Vaidya for paying attention. “You’ve seen my handiwork then. It’s a nice touch, isn’t it?”

Vaidya agrees. “Very cute.”

“… Before Flint left, I was actually working on something for him.”

Vaidya tilts his head. “He seems a little bit old for toys, isn’t he?”

“Well yes,” Carle hums thoughtfully. “I thought a little something to keep his hands busy would be nice.” Raising his eyebrow, he asks. “Do you know of his habits?”

Vaidya shakes his head. “Admittedly, we’re hardly even acquainted. The only conversation I’ve had with him was when he asked me to deliver the letter.”

Carle pauses for a second to think, like he’s deciding the details worth mentioning. “That boy’s from Ammereane. I was friends with his parents, so when they moved here I helped them settle down.”

Carle leans back into his chair. “It… was a stroke of bad luck though. They weren’t here for long before the incident with the Kuregon…” He trails off, closing his eyes. Carle takes a breath, frowning.

“I think I can fill in the blanks there.” Vaidya interjects. A thankful smile is his response.

“Anyhow, I ended up being his caretaker for some time.” Pausing like before, Carle seems to be considering what to mention. “Flint’s a bit… fidgety at times. And sometimes it causes some trouble.” Carle says vaguely. “But he really doesn’t mean any harm.”

With a sigh, Carle sips some peach tea. “No one I know held it against him. Nuisanced, maybe. But they were sympathetic to his position. Our chieftess even wanted to help him.”

“I think that’s where it went wrong.” Carle’s glass hollowly taps the table. “He… was probably guilty over his parents, I think. And our attempts came out the wrong way to him. So he left, plain and simple.”

Vaidya hums. “You don’t seem to mind that very much.”

A hollow chuckle rumbles out of Carle’s throat. “I did.” Leaning back into his seat, Carle looks at his ceiling. A little bit of sunlight peeps through a hole in the roofing, catching his eye with a very particular gleam. “I owe it to his parents to take care of him. But, at the same time, it wasn’t my care he needed.”

Smiling, Carle looks Vaidya square in the eye. “But we’re past that now. It seems he’s been doing well for himself. If he’s willing to talk to me once more, then I’m more than happy to finish that project I was working on.”

“What is it that you were working for him anyway?” Vaidya thinks this is probably a safe topic to segway into.

“Just a little object.” Carle answers. “‘Toy’ is an accurate word for it really. I should still have it somewhere here. Give me a moment.” He leaves his seat.

The moment passes in relative peace. Carle disappeared to a room in the back of his house—presumably a workstation. If he focuses, Vaidya hears the clattering of wood and tools being moved about. Vaidya takes a sip of peach tea. Yes, a cold drink is nice after all the running around he’s been doing, even if it’s so sweet it stings.

When Vaidya’s glass has been drained, Carle returns with a small, wooden, star-shaped object. “This is what I was working on.” He offers it to Vaidya. “You can try it. Don’t worry, you won’t get splinters.”

Vaidya takes it. It’s a rough job compared to some of the woodwork Carle lays about the house. When he runs his finger on it, residue sawdust sticks to it. Vaidya blows it off.

Intuitively, Vaidya holds it by pressing the centre between two fingers. Gravity kicks in, and the star shape slackens, wobbling. He flicks it with his other hand. The star spins rapidly before slowing to a stop. He flicks it again. A quiet whirring fills the room.

“It’s a fidget star.” Carle explains. “They’re sold occasionally, but the mechanisms can make it a bit costly. I thought if I made one, it’d be nice to keep Flint’s hands busy.” With a smile, he adds, “It just might work out now though.”

Nodding, Vaidya sets it on the table. 

Rhetorically, Carle asks, “I shouldn’t keep you any longer, should I? You’re on duty afterall.”

Vaidya nods, rising to his feet. “Yes. I should be off. Thank you for the tea.” He clasps his hands in front of him in his typical motion.

The two now-empty glasses are lifted off the table as Carle waves Vaidya off. “Have a good day, postknight. And thank you for delivering the letter.”

When Vaidya returns, Emelyn is kicking the air as she sits on a table. Noticing Vaidya, she waves him over. “Welcome back! I’ve finished packing for a while now.” She gestures to Vaidya’s bag.

“Apologies for the delay. Carle wanted to talk with me.” Vaidya strolls over and takes the bag.

Emelyn flashes a grin. “I’ll bet! That letter was from Flint wasn’t it?” She grips the edge of the table and leans forward at Vaidya.

Vaidya nods. “I take it you’re acquainted with him?” Hefting his bag over his shoulder, he gives it a few testing lifts. The flasks within quietly clink. It’s safe to deliver. Probably.

With her arms, Emelyn pushes herself upright and swings side to side, like a pendulum. “Not really.” She pops her mouth. “He didn’t really let me. All gloomy and stuff. Making it harder than Hayden.” She pouts.

“He did give that impression when I met him.” Vaidya admits with a chuckle.

With both of her legs, Emelyn kicks off the table. “If he’s sending letters back to Ponpon, d’ya think he might accept one from me?” When Vaidya meets her eyes, they’re sparkling. Like a child that found a new toy or pet—or in this case, penpal.

“Can’t say for sure.” Vaidya says honestly. “You could always try though.”

“I’ll do just that.” Emelyn grins. “Good luck on the delivery Vaidya!”

The air’s cooler than before. The late-afternoon sun gives off a final hurrah of heat before turning from afternoon to evening to night. Each step Vaidya takes is met with a gentle clatter of glass as he strolls down the lane. This, and whatever the apothecary might send back, are probably his last deliveries for the day.

Vaidya thinks whatever Flint has right now is probably a happy ending. Not that any of that good was worth his parents. But that the recovery went about as smoothly as one could hope. Whatever trouble Flint caused is forgiven, both he and the villagers are willing to reconnect, and his grief moves on.

Not a clean shift in any case, but above ambivalent. They seem like they’ll be okay.

He wonders if he’ll get anything similar to that.

Obviously, he’s not Flint, and his family are nothing like the people of Pompon. But they share that harsh, jagged splitting of ties. Except of course, that Flint’s trying to reconnect.

Vaidya can’t exactly say the same for himself though. Rather, he’s doing quite the opposite. Naina’s letters still come in through the mail. He… just can’t open them. Opening them would mean facing this hard discussion becoming more and more overdue. It’s easier to just put it off. And it gets easier with each passing letter he stows away.

Maybe Vaidya should do something new.

Yeah, that sounds like it might go somewhere. The past few months, Vaidya hasn’t really changed anything in his routine. Sure, he took up more deliveries. Was there less often for infusions. But it was still the same old, just balanced differently.

Suddenly, the recipe laying over in his dorm becomes more enticing. His plan to try it out turns from a “might as well” to a jolt of genuine excitement.

A little skip comes into Vaidya’s step as he struts along the lane. His lips curve upwards comfortably.

“Delivery for you!” Vaidya shouts. His feet are safely planted on an imprint in the grass left behind by the mask from earlier. It’s probably far enough for the apothecary to consider safe.

The apothecary is seated at one of the tables, seemingly waiting. He doesn’t budge at Vaidya’s voice though.

So Vaidya tries again, louder. The apothecary remains unmoved.

After two more attempts, Vaidya gives up and strolls right up to the apothecary. He gives him a light shake.

A muffled groan makes its way out of the apothecary’s mask. Vaidya chuckles. “Good morning to you.”

In a dazed, sluggish movement, the apothecary’s posture straightens. His head wobbles side to side lazily as he gathers his bearings. 

After a pause, the apothecary cries out. “AH, VAIDYA! YOU’RE TOO CLOSE, YOU SHOULD STEP BACK!” His movements are still heavy, but the apothecary succeeds in pushing Vaidya backwards.

Holding his arms up in surrender, Vaidya laughs. “Apologies. I thought it’d be better to wake you sooner than later.” He backtracks as the apothecary swats at him.

“BETTER ME THAN YOU GETTING CAUGHT UP IN SOMETHING!” 

“I’d much rather you stay safe as well though. I know your work gets dangerous.” Vaidya means it too. His conversation with Emelyn comes to mind.

“STILL THOUGH. YOU SHOULDN’T BE TOO CLOSE.” The apothecary has succeeded in chasing Vaidya to what he considers a safe distance away and stops. “SO HOW IS THAT HINGE?”

Vaidya grins. “Good as new. A friend fixed it up.” Gently, he sets his back down on the ground and opens it. “Emelyn also got some mixtures for you.”

The apothecary turns to Vaidya. Best he can anyhow, the mask makes it hard to tell. But Vaidya thinks he’s trying to send a pointed look his way. “DID SOMETHING NICE HAPPEN? YOU’RE KIND OF CHEERFUL.”

“Nothing much. I just came to a conclusion on something.” Vaidya smiles. Shifting the topic, Vaidya asks. “Would you like a hand with the distiller?”

After a pause, the apothecary shakes his head. “IT’S GETTING LATE, YOU CAN GO. BESIDES, YOU’VE DONE MOST OF THE DISTILLER ANYWAY. GET SOME REST.”

“I could say the same for you though.” Vaidya replies. “You shouldn’t tire yourself out.”

The apothecary just stays silent for a moment. Probably just finding an excuse, Vaidya thinks. “It’s alright to slow down a bit. You won’t get anything done if you push it. Better to get all your work done after a night’s rest, right?”

Silence still. Vaidya tries to push a little bit. “Emelyn’s a bit worried for you.” Smiling, he adds. “Our hero needs to be in good health if he’s gonna help anyone, yeah?” With a wink at the end.

He’s taking a lot from Tina and Emelyn’s books today. Playing the cheerful role isn’t really his thing. He thinks it’s working though. The apothecary is considering it at least.

“I NEED TO CURE IT THOUGH.” He hesitates.

“And you’re trying your best, which is great. But it’s okay to take a more relaxed pace.” Vaidya thinks back to Emelyn’s little outburst. “Even if some of the townspeople are relaxed, they’re still trying too. You could learn from them.”

The apothecary pauses again. Vaidya thinks he probably shouldn’t push too much. It’s not his assurances that the apothecary needs anyhow. “I’ll head back, like you said. But you should take care of yourself too. There are people who are looking up to you, afterall.”

By the time he’s back in Pompon’s borders, Vaidya realises he forgot to ask if the apothecary needed anything delivered back. Thinking back to Emelyn’s own plan though, he elects to let it play out. They’re both geniuses afterall, those two can work out these hiccups.

But, one last report to Emelyn, just to confirm everything should be fine.

When Vaidya’s in view, Emelyn jumps in his path. “Welcome back again!” Her hands are behind her back. “I have some extras from my Blossomfest preparation, I thought it’d be a nice thank you gift.” With a twirl she flashes a green bouquet in Vaidya’s face.

Chuckling, Vaidya accepts the flowers. “Thank you Emelyn. I’ll take good care of them. What are they called?”

Emelyn grins at the excuse to talk about them. “Green Marigolds!” She exclaims. “They’re the same flowers I want to give that superhero.”

Vaidya cocks his head. “Are they about forgiveness then?”

“Not quite.” Emelyn chirps. “They’re about connections and emotions, old and new experiences, letting time pass us by.” As she lists them off, she paces in a circle dreamily. “And you’re a pretty new connection, ain'tcha?” They had only known one another for a bit over a month afterall.

Vaidya laughs. “Plenty of time to become an old one though.”

Emelyn grins. “I’ll hold you to it! Have a safe trip home!” She waves him off. And she keeps waving until Vaidya takes a turn to Neville’s home.

At the first knock, a barrage of light footsteps echo out, and the door swings open. “Mister! You’re here!” Neville greets.

“I did say I would be here.” Vaidya chuckles.

“I thought you forgot, it’s so dark now. My mom’s been trying to get me to sleep.” Neville pouts.

Normally, Vaidya would say that he has at least some confidence in his memory. But after the incident with Flint’s letter, he elects to laugh politely, saying nothing and ruffling Neville’s hair with his free hand.

“You have flowers again.” Neville observes.

Vaidya chuckles, holding up the green bouquet. “I do. Would you like to smell them?”

Obligingly, Neville nods. Vaidya kneels down so they’re in Neville’s reach. The boy walks up and plants his face in the blooms. He makes an audible breath before stepping back and smiling. Green petals decorate his face.

From behind Neville, gentler footsteps make themselves known. A dark-skinned woman with silvery hair turns the corner. A book is in her right hand. “Are you the guest Neville said we’d be expecting?”

Vaidya nods. “Yes, that’d be me. I’m Postknight Vaidya. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He clasps his hands in front of him, bowing.

“So polite!” The lady laughs. “I’m Linda, Neville's mother. You don’t need to be so formal, my son’s talked about you.”

“What sort of things?” Vaidya’s a bit curious on just how the boy sees him.

“Well… I’ve heard that you’ve a very kind young man who helped take care of my son when he got lost in Caldemont, even if you’re so weak as to get dragged around by children.” There’s a faux-serious evaluative tone in Linda’s voice. Vaidya can imagine her adjusting her glasses to add more points. “So, good things. Thank you for taking care of my son.” Her expression turns into a more genuine smile. 

Vaidya smiles. “Not at all.” He feels a bit of heat creeping up his cheeks though.

“I won’t take any more of your time.” Linda chuckles. “It’s late, and I’m sure you’d like to head on home.” Ruffling Neville’s hair with her free hand, she adds, “And this boy here needs his sleep. Don’t you have a gift for our guest, Neville?”

With a dutiful huff, Neville nods and disappears into the house. Tiny footsteps grow quieter. 

“Those flowers are lovely, by the way.” Linda says. “Are those from Emelyn’s garden?”

Vaidya nods. “They’re a gift for helping her with her work.”

“Green marigolds are a lovely choice though. They suit someone like Emelyn, always travelling about and meeting people.” Vaidya’s inclined to agree. “Though, I see my son left a mark in your bouquet.” Linda almost looks apologetic.

Vaidya laughs. “Nothing irreversible. I take good care of my flowers.”

“Oh? Well you do have the look of a gardener.” Linda looks at Vaidya’s face more carefully.

“I’m not, really.” Vaidya admits. “Maybe I should though. I’ve ended up collecting a few.”

“Sounds like a lot of extra busywork for a postknight though. Travelling can’t be all that good for the flowers.”

Vaidya nods. “It isn’t. They stay in Maille. The flowers don’t need too much care, and I have friends I can ask when I’m unavailable.”

“That’s a lovely arrangement you have. I wish I had the time to grow my own Valley Bells.” Linda laughs. “The rascal over there is quite a handful though.” Vaidya chuckles along politely. 

Linda smiles warmly. “The Kuregon made it a lot harder. But we make do.”

They exchange small talk until Neville returns with the Low Mallow and Rotaseed. The herbs are sorted into two different burlap sacks. It’s a pleasant surprise considering the state of Neville’s basket earlier today.

“That boy knows nothing about organisation, but I thought you might appreciate them like this.” Linda says.

Vaidya nods. “Much obliged, Linda.”

They exchange farewells, and the mother-child duo wave Vaidya off. Out of his sight, Linda carries Neville to his bed as Vaidya heads to Pompon’s inn.

“Aren’t you a little late?” Tina’s two unimpressed, narrowed eyes dark towards Vaidya.

“Well, we never did agree on a time now did we?” Vaidya dodges responsibility with a smile.

Groaning, Tina does an exaggerated eye-roll. “There’s agreement and then there’s etiquette. Any longer and I would’ve just slept here instead.”

Laughing, Vaidya opens the inn’s door. “Shall we head out?”

“Naturally.” Tina snarks. “I wanna get back before dawn y’know.”

The two head out in the dark. Now that the sun’s set, the warmth that permeated the air is gone. It’s not quite cold, but certainly without warmth, the surest sign to pack up a picnic. 

In the darkened lighting, the crisp toasty crunches of the leaves seem just the slightest bit more haunting. Like the jaws of some monster in the dark now that the sun has let out its last burst of heat for the day. Despite that, the two postknights go one their way freely. 

“So…” Tina starts. “What’s with the flowers this time?” She points a finger at him accusingly with a smirk. “This makes three now, right? I remember one Maggie mentioned from Caldemont.”

Vaidya laughs. This is a much safer topic than Tina’s question earlier today. “Emelyn was preparing for Blossomfest. These are just some extras she gave as thanks.” He readjusts his hold on the flowers. “And yes, this is the third bouquet.”

“Kind of boring though, don’t you think?” Tina pops her mouth. “They’re the same colour as their leaves. The yellow ones were way flashier.”

“I think they’re rather nice though.” Vaidya smiles.

There’s a gleam in Tina’s eye at the chance for a jab. “Yeah of course you do.” She snarks. “You’re such a boring person, basically a perfect fit.”

“I don’t think that’s quite right though.” Vaidya chides. “I can’t quite say that their meaning quite suits me.”

“‘Course, you’d care about something like that.” Tina says this under her breath, but she makes sure Vaidya can hear it. Raising her voice back to normal volumes, she says, “Let’s hear it then. What do they mean?”

“Emelyn was a bit vague with her wording.” Vaidya admits. “But they’re about connections and emotions. And keeping both old and new ones.”

“What, are you not making enough new friends or something?” Tina’s voice loses its edge. Still in her casual, banter-happy tone, but less jagged. “Because from here you’ve been getting along just fine.”

Vaidya shakes his head. “Not that. But I haven’t been treating my old connections quite as well.” He looks around the darkened forest, electing to break eye-contact.

There’s scoff from Tina’s direction. Vaidya imagines her expression is more than a bit dissatisfied. “Doesn’t suddenly make it not suit you though. So what if the whole thing with your family went a bit awry? If it’s about all connections, then the new outweighs the old, yeah? I bet you didn’t even know half as many people back then.”

Not wrong, Vaidya thinks. Not completely right either though. Both old and new were specified. It’s not fair for it to count just because Vaidya has made so many new connections. Afterall, a definition specifying “old” has to give an appreciation for those old relationships. Otherwise someone freely making and abandoning friends would fit in just as well. He explains this to Tina.

And Tina laughs in his face.

Well, not in his face, it’s too dark to really tell something like that for sure. But she’s definitely laughing. He sees the edges of Tina’s figure keel over in laughter in snickers and whoops. Vaidya thinks this treatment is a bit unfair, he had some perfectly valid points, probably.

“Don’t… you think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself?” Tina gasps out between chokes. “Are we talking about flowers? Or something else here? Put yourself straight, will ya? You’re getting a bit tense there.”

That’s… probably fair, Vaidya thinks. They’re just flowers, afterall. And it is silly for him to just get caught up with Emelyn’s own vague phrasing. Maybe he’s just been moping a bit too much. Thinking about it that way, an amused huff comes out of Vaidya. “You’re probably right.” Vaidya admits. “I’ve just been thinking really.”

Tina’s silhouette leans back, framed by whatever moonlight makes it through the foliage. “Same thoughts as back when you got that hinge?”

Vaidya confirms this. “Hearing you talk about Hayden made me think of my own situation, really.”

Nodding, Tina replies. “Makes sense.” A slight glare reflects from one of Tina’s teeth. “Guess you’re pretty lucky, huh?”

Vaidya chuckles. “Or stubborn.”

Tina laughs in his face again. “You? Please. Lonely pippops have more guts than you. Don’t forget who picked you up back in Maile. Do you really think you have more than that grump?”

“You’d be surprised.” She really would be, Vaidya thinks. The version of Vaidya that day he left to become a postknight is very different from the Vaidya who is here now, a postknight. And the Vaidya before—training under his sister—for that matter.

It’s… actually quite embarrassing. Vaidya doesn’t think he’d like for his friends to see that side of him.

There’s a beat of silence. Tina interrupts it. “Yeah. I probably would be, huh?”

“Sounds like you have an implication, care to elaborate?” 

Tina scoffs playfully. “Like what you’ve been saying hasn’t been loaded enough. But fine, I’ll play ball.” After a moment to gather her thoughts, she says, “It’s not all that weird, really. You can’t really know someone from chatter alone.” A toothy grin flashes through the darkness again. “Or just by helping an awkward newbie out.” Vaidya can practically feel her wink.

“That’s true.” Vaidya agrees. “What are you trying to get at though?”

“Nothing really.” Tina says shamelessly. “Just that having a secret or two is nothing new. Like what you said about my brother.” Tina laughs with a carefree shrug. “My turn though. Time to share with the class.”

Ah. She tricked him. Vaidya tries deflecting. “Not much of a class though, is it?”

“It’s fine as someone’s learning, isn’t it?”

“Which one of us would be the teacher and student then?”

“Well… since I just taught you to not get overly passionate about flowers and that people can have secrets. I make a pretty good teacher. So you should stop playing this game and share with the class.” She snickers and snaps her fingers. “Teacher’s orders.”

Was worth a shot. Not that Vaidya was trying to dodge. Well, not completely trying. The banter’s just good for destressing. “Back at Emelyn's, I was just wondering how my sister thought of me, really.” He confesses.

“When isn’t she thinking of you though? Don’t think I haven’t seen all those letters. Pretty sure everyone in Maille had a turn with it.”

“‘How’ and ‘when’ are very different questions though. I don’t have the answer to the former.”

Tina hums a half-octave lower in contemplation. “Well, if it were me. I wouldn’t send so many letters to someone I thought badly of. No one has that much spite or energy.” After a pause, she adds, “What does she write in them anyway?”

Vaidya ignores the question. “I’m not really thinking in a good or bad sense either. It’s closer to… what kind of person I come off as to her.”

The pause extends longer, and Tina’s voice lowers more until it’s levelled out and serious. “Well if you ask me…” she trails off, like she’s making sure she’s on the right track. “What she thinks of you, isn’t completely for you to know. She’s been with you longer than you were conscious from what you told me. I don’t think you can really grasp how she thinks of you. But shouldn’t you get some kind of impression from those letters?”

Vaidya ignores the question. Tina’s way of thinking isn’t wrong per se. There’s, something deeply personal about how you see someone. Like when Vaidya thanked Tina and Maggie for how they helped him. But even then, vaguer, less personal impressions can still exist; like how intoxicating Emelyn’s cheer is, or how comfortable Flint’s position seems, or how much Vaidya relates to Hayden’s position. Vaidya justifies this to Tina.

“Well, at that point, just ask.” She says plainly. “She’s writing to you all the time. There’s no way you don’t have the chance to write back, yeah?”

Vaidya ignores the question. 

Well. He can’t really truly ignore it. Vaidya can settle for pretending it went through one ear and out the other, but Tina probably wouldn’t appreciate that. He can feel her eyes boring into him through the darkness afterall. It’s just… not quite embarrassing… just sort of… a bit much to admit, in a sense. 

Afterall, neither of Vaidya’s friends know that those letters are left unopened in a black compartment in his dorm. It’d be easier to just let this float by. Not that it presents itself as much of an option right now.

It’s not like he's uncomfortable with Tina knowing. Or that he distrusts her with that information. It just sort of feels like a lot to admit? Like some point of no return. Cross the flag and you’ll be seen differently by all your friends forever; for better and worse.

And it’s not like he doesn’t get it either. Even Vaidya thinks it’s a bit absurd that skipping Naina’s letters has snowballed into what it is now; a growing stack of unopened letters shoved neatly in a black compartment and hours of pointless musings over the case.

Tina kicks him in the shin, again, cleanly knocking him out of his musings. “Class is still in session here.” She snarks. “The teacher would like your answer now.” Sassy, but her voice maintains that same low pitch.

Vaidya hesitates, uncertain. The view is the same in all directions, darkness forward, back, up, and down. Vaidya chooses the ground to stare at.

“You don’t have to answer, you know.” Tina says after a pause. “Just say the word. I’ll be out of your hair just like that.” The pitch of her voice rises part-way back to her usual joking tone, prepared to shift either direction.

Another beat passes. “I… ” Vaidya gulps. “Haven’t actually read any of her letters.” He confesses. 

Vaidya can make out a surprising amount of fresh blades of grass. The little moonlight glistens off them like pebbles on a lakeside. Dead grass is too dull for the light to reflect afterall. He supposes it’s just another sign of Pompon's recovery.

Wow, Tina isn’t saying anything. Maybe if he was looking at her instead of the ground he’d at least see her nod or something.

Taking the silence is a sign to continue, Vaidya does just that. “It’s… probably odd, I know.” He admits. “I just couldn’t bring myself to really.”

Even though he can hear her footsteps beside him, Vaidya checks to make sure Tina’s still there. As expected, a silhouette with a messy bob cut is to his side.

This is a very stressful interrogation, he thinks. But it’s not really something he can stop now that he started. “The last time I actually saw my sister was the day I became a trainee, actually.” He laughs awkwardly, scratching his head. “It was a bit of a messy scene really.”

Some more silence passes. They’ve gone out of Pompon forest and properly into the outskirts of Maille. Neat flat plains replace tree-ridden pathways as two shadows continue on their way.

It’s not uncommon to walk in the dark. Sometimes deliveries just call for it. Usually for Vaidya’s case it’s just a long workday. Company’s nice though. Turning his head, Vaidya checks if Tina hasn’t vanished. She’s there.

The last burning lights of Maille are in sight when Vaidya speaks up again. “I’m planning to do something new tonight. A friend of Pearl’s gave me a recipe for a drink. I thought I’d try to make it.” He gives an awkward laugh. “Thought I might need a change of pace.”

Tina hums, finally speaking. “You definitely sound like you need it.” She quips. 

When Vaidya glances over at Tina, residue light from Maille hits her face. She looks straight ahead, mouth set tight. Vaidya lets her think.

“Sounds like you dug yourself into a bit of an annoying hole really.” She says plainly. 

Vaidya agrees completely. “I have.” Lowering his eyes, he gives another awkward chuckle. “I supposed I’m overdue to write back.”

“Think you’re ready to?” Tina asks seriously, turning her head at him. Only half of her face is lit as she looks into his eyes. After seeing Vaidya hesitate, she looks back forward, puts her hands behind her head, and continues. “Nothing wrong with holding off.”

Tina belts out a laugh. “My brother does it all the time. Sometimes I’m a little too much for him.” More soberly, she adds. “Sure, your whole thing is a bit different. But you can only really do this sort of thing when you’re ready.”

“I can’t say I agree.” Vaidya responds. “There’s always the possibility that I’m never ready afterall.” This loop has been going on for months afterall. It’s very possible that he just keeps doing it over and over again.

Shrugging, Tina shoots him a bored look. “Give yourself some credit at least. You’ve been changing it up for a while now.” She yawns, pulling back her arms until they pop. “Don’t think I haven’t seen you busying yourself up. We don’t make much of a Maille trio when you’re out and about.”

“Doesn’t confirm that I’ll be ready, now does it?”

“It doesn’t.” Tina admits. “But you’re still changing it up. The cooking too. Give it time before you call it a hopeless case, yeah?” She winks. “You’ll figure it out.”

On the flipside, all the changes to his routine might just distract him from the issue at hand. Get him too busy to even think about the rest. She is right though, Vaidya concedes. He can’t really say for sure afterall. He gives Tina a nod.

Actually, he’s feeling really tired right about now. The sparse lighting of Maille’s streets at this time gives a sort of hypnotic effect. Yellow lamps flitter and pulsate. They line the roads, each pulse making a hazy orange afterimage that lulls Vaidya’s attention.

Beside him, Tina yawns. “Now, if you’ll ‘scuse me. Class is dismissed.” She splits off from Vaidya to her own dorm. She waves her hand over her head, not looking back. Vaidya raises his hand in a lazy wave before heading to his own dorm.

Once again, he takes another vase—the last one he has ready, actually—swishes it in a water basin, and sets it on the table. Gently, the Green Marigolds make their home in it, alongside its new family: bouquets of yellow and red respectively. Vaidya will get soil for it tomorrow, when Maggie’s shop is actually open.

He picks up a letter in front of his door. Pushed through the mail slot on his door for his vacancy. As usual, there’s a from Naina neatly labelled on the top-left corner of the envelope. Vaidya stares at it.

It goes in the bottom of a black compartment besides his desk. Sorted by date, as always.

The sacks of low mallow and rotaseed from Neville and Linda are tossed on the tableside. Deciding he’s too tired to try Dahlia’s recipe today, Vaidya goes for his nighttime routine. He washes up his face, does his stretches, unties his ponytail, changes into his nightwear, and plops himself into bed.

Vaidya juggles today’s events in his head. Thinking about it, his worries have been warping. Like sand images, sifted, scattered, raked into new and more abstract forms drifting about in his brain. Each shuffle of a grain makes a tingle in his head.

He never did get to think of that initial worry with Maggie: alchemy and whatever vague meanings it has to his person. But, it doesn’t really matter, he thinks. Whatever tight unpleasantness it gave him doesn’t really tie him down as he is tonight.

Offhandedly, he wonders about what Hayden feels towards smithing, and if it’s anything like how Vaidya feels with alchemy. Before, he chalked their similarities up to both having similar families that pushed them onto certain careers. But thinking back, Tina’s words suggested otherwise, that Hayden might be a tad more distasteful to his craft than Vaidya’s own ambivalence.

Vaidya supposes it doesn’t matter either way for himself. He gives a casual hand-waved wish of the best to Pompon’s current smith.

Whatever alchemy talents he has doesn’t really do anything for him, Vaidya thinks. He’s a far cry from the geniuses of his field. The eccentricities of Naina, Emelyn, and the apothecary are all testament to that afterall.

But, they might just serve him soon, Vaidya thinks, and not just because he got a tent in Maille for his services. Might just give a special touch for learning the recipe. A handy party trick if nothing else. Might be good for his next picnic with Tina and Maggie. They were thinking of having it in Caldemont so Pearl could join in.

…

A few minutes pass, Vaidya shifts sleeping positions from his side to his back. Flips his pillow so that the cool side meets his face. Tangles himself in his blankets trying to get that perfect spot.

Yeah, he isn’t getting any sleep is he? Vaidya’s tired, but it’s the sort of tired where your body is too tense to go to bed. Not the kind where you just melt into your pillows and covers and it becomes the next day.

If he can’t sleep, he might as well try it out.

Vaidya flips his cover, rising out of bed. He lights his bedside lamp and carries it to the kitchen. A peek out the window suggests it’s past midnight, but it doesn’t really matter to Vaidya.

In his nightclothes, he hauls the sacks of herbs from Neville onto his table, and goes to grab the rest. Once his preparation is complete, the table has a colourful scattering of purples, reds, yellows, and greens.

Suffice to say, Dahlia’s recipe isn’t very precise. Not to say it isn’t detailed. The specific preparation methods are all very clear-cut. But measurements of “a pinch,” “a tub,” “handfuls,” and the like would make most alchemists very upset, Vaidya thinks.

Vaidya shifts his gaze from the recipe to the table and back again. Eh, he has spare ingredients.

Before he can forget, he stumbles back to his washroom to get a hair-tie. Better safe than sorry.

To start, Vaidya takes a kuroot and chops it in half. Probably close enough to “a quarter handful.” With a mortar and pestle, he grinds the kuroot into dust and boils it in water. He makes sure to wash his hands carefully, the roots are poisonous, afterall. 

In a separate pot of water, Vaidya takes a bundle of golden basil—too much for him to count—and tosses the leaves inside. He hopes this meets the standard of “a tub.” The kuroot grind’s sourness and golden basil’s wheaty freshness fill the air.

When the golden basil greys out, Vaidya strains it out, just like with Emelyn’s shipment. He replaces the now-grey leaves with five foresight fruits. Not that he has a clue if five is too much or too little, all Dahlia wrote was “enough.”

Just like when he made evercherry tea with Sandy, he peels the fruits and let them boil in the golden basil extract. The mixture turns a light shade of orange.

On the side, Vaidya starts roasting the rotaseed. Once the heat gets to the seeds, they start popping. Vaidya hopes his neighbours won’t have anything to say to that.

The pot of kuroot started sputtering while he was roasting the rotaseed. Being a few seconds late won’t hurt, Vaidya hopes. Vaidya takes the cloudy black liquid and strains it over a cloth. Blackish-purple powder is caught by the fabric, and Vaidya throws the bitter and sour-smelling powder out.

While the kuroot concentrate cools, Vaidya adds two handfuls of the low mallow and the roasted rotaseed as a garnish. Probably enough.

Going back to the golden basil pot with foresight fruit, Vaidya takes a ladle and crushes the fruits. Offhandedly, he wonders if he should order some evercherries sometime. It’d be nice to try making it again, maybe.

Two minutes later and Vaidya strains out the pulpy remains of foresight fruit. He tosses a bigger chunk in his mouth carelessly. It’s sweet. Vaidya might just be delirious, but he feels his body relax from the foresight fruit’s energising properties.

Once both mixtures have stopped steaming, Vaidya extracts the low mallow and rotaseed from the kuroot pot. Looking at it, the blackish-purple is lighter, more of a noble’s colour than a villains now. Vaidya supposes the low mallow and rotaseed somehow removed the edge. Something to read on later.

Finally, with a squirt of lemon and a dash of capsid honey, Vaidya mixes it all into one pot. Its colours come off more strongly than the serving in Roseavern. A bit of a darker hue too.

He takes a sip.

It’s not bad, probably. Vaidya thinks if he didn’t have Dahlia’s version as a model, he’d be satisfied actually. But compared to that version, the drink before him is off. 

The kuroot is a tad too bitter, it overpowers the sweetness of foresight fruit and capsid honey, and the aftertaste is a bit too grainy from the golden basil, and none of the sourness in the lemon made its way through.

The airy fizz of the rotaseed tingles just enough that the tingle is painful rather than pleasant. The liquid itself is thicker too, a sign that Vaidya added too little low mallow. The resulting liquid is tingly, and sticks to the walls of his mouth.

All of that is in comparison to Dahlia’s version though. Vaidya drinks the whole cup heartily nonetheless. It’s pleasant nonetheless. 

Though Vaidya absolutely should have thought ahead when he decided to make an energising drink in the middle of the night. He overcorrected. Where his body was once too tired and achy to sleep, there’s now a jittery energy. Vaidya’s mind flashes in a frenzy, thinking of how to correct his brew.

Well, he’s not sleeping like this anyway. Might as well.

Rinsing his appliances, he prepares his kitchen to do the recipe all over again, making a mental marker of how to adjust the recipe. And then he tries again. Makes a drink closer to, but not quite like Dahlia’s energy pop. And he tries again. Until the sun peeks through his curtains and Vaidya is collapsed in a dining chair and fast asleep. His final thought keeping up the cheeky competitive mood of his night.

Today was a good day.

Chapter Text

With the peaceful evenly-paced snores echoing from across the counter, Vaidya’s glad at least someone is comfortable with this situation.

Not to say that Vaidya holds it against the merchant before him, but he’s more used to Otto’s habits as his neighbour rather than a postknight. Once in a while he would send over excess herbs from his and Naina’s own projects. Sometimes Vaidya would even help him keep shop. 

That was before he became a postknight, of course. Before new feelings that Vaidya couldn’t identify boiled up and he left his home in a hazy spiral.

And now here he is, back at home staring down the sleeping figure of the bespectacled blonde. Otto mumbles something and shuffles under Vaidya’s gaze. Vaidya glances to the side awkwardly, not entirely sure what to do in his position.

Vaidya… wasn’t actually supposed to be here in the first place. For one reason or another, Postknight Hector had to reschedule. Being the other postknight from Violetfair, it was thrust into Vaidya’s hands. Which is a perfectly reasonable decision of course—especially now that Vaidya’s qualified for the region with a shiny new silver badge.

It’s just that Vaidya hasn’t been home in a long time. And is far from prepared for the conversations that will inevitably follow his radio silence. He glances at both of his sides. No familiar faces. Yet.

The sun isn’t particularly bright in Violetfair—what with the foliage—but Vaidya makes sure his postknight visor is neatly nested over his eyes. His hair is untied, parted symmetrically over his forehead and flowing down over his shoulders like two sleek waterfalls. This, for the most part, masks his face. It’s a messy display for sure, but it’ll do. The only two people he’s worried about finding him are tall enough that they wouldn’t see his face like this.

As for the delivery…

Vaidya stares down at the knightmail scroll in his hand, and then looks to an open stool near a table by Otto’s store, then back again. I might as well, he thinks with a shrug before plopping into the seat. The still rolled-up knightmail is laid out before him. He leaves his bag of medicine and a mostly-perfected bottle of energy pop to the side

Now that he thinks about it, Vaidya doesn’t actually know what he’s delivering. Hector needed someone to fill in for him. Vaidya obliged. The delivery is definitely to Otto, but Hector never actually gave Vaidya the specifics. Vaidya shrugs. It’s not important either way. A delivery is a delivery.

Careful not to let too much light hit his face, Vaidya glances around Violetfair. It’s… exactly as he left it. Really. Warm shades of reds and purples hit his eye from every angle. Even without looking up, Vaidya’s sure the canopy of the Everwood is all-encompassing as always, like the clouds of an eternal sunset covering all of the highlands.

There’s a lovely union of nature and architecture in Violetfair’s buildings. Pink, purple, and blue flowers spill out of every crevice in the pale structures of petrified wood.

The designs of some buildings are certainly… eclectic. Down the road is a smithery with a helmet-like design. It’s actually quite charming in a sense. Flowered bushes run down the back of the head like a plume, and a red bouquet is nestled in the mask of the helm. It reminds Vaidya of a day out with a certain shepherd. Though the flower was yellow, not red.

Smiling, Vaidya takes a deep breath. The cool air fills his lungs with the smell of flowers and pine. Maybe visiting wasn’t the worst thing he could’ve done. 

Granted the approaching footsteps tells Vaidya that today has more to offer than just sightseeing and a breath of fresh air. 

Thankfully, the footsteps match neither the relaxed yet authoritative strides of Miles, nor the rustling of Naina’s gown over uncut grass. Rather, the steps are confident, but a bit heavy. Like the owner has some baggage on them. Vaidya’s in the clear.

He casts a sideways glance to the direction of the noise. The first thing that catches his eye is the hammer, with a cast iron framing and a fiery orange core. It’s practically a furnace on a stick.

He doesn’t look up to the customer’s face. But the orange gloves and trademark overalls are enough evidence for an educated guess. Clearing his throat, Vaidya waves to the guest in greeting.

Asteria rests her hammer over her shoulder and waves. “Hey there.” She says. “Waiting for your delivery?”

Violetfair’s current blacksmith is a newer addition. By the time she moved in, Vaidya’s own departure was only a couple months away. It definitely helps him stay unidentified. Vaidya chuckles awkwardly at the question though. “My colleague didn’t tell me how to handle Otto here. So I’m enjoying the view.”

Asteria hums in understanding. “Most of us need to work around him too.” Pulling out another stool from under the table, she adds. “Care for some company? I promise to be more exciting than the sleepyhead there.” Seated, the two meet eye-to-eye thanks to Asteria’s lax posture and Vaidya’s straight back.

“Are you sure?” Vaidya responds diplomatically. “I’m sure you have more important things to do than to keep me company.” Not to mention the less he talks, the less likely his cover is blown. 

“I’m an inventor.” She says, gesturing to the helmet-shaped building. “Folks bring materials, ore, equipment, whatever, and I give ‘em my magic touch! If I wait here, I’ll get my materials as soon as I can. This is a personal project anyway.”

Vaidya nods. The logic clicks. “What sort of project are you working on?”

“Tragically it’s nothing befitting my title of inventor.” Asteria says in a downcast tone. After a pause, she grins. “Just a woodcutting axe. I do blacksmithing from time to time.” 

Makes sense to Vaidya. Everyone in Violetfair is friends or family with at least one of the lumberjacks. “For a friend of yours?”

“My brother actually.” She casts her gaze to the side. “He’s a bit hard headed really.” She adds, chuckling, though there’s an awkward ring to it.

“Trouble in the family?”

“Something like that. I was real excited to have a brother too.” She sighs, pausing. “Chris… doesn’t see eye-to-eye.”

Vaidya nods. He remembers Miles going off about how Chris was being ‘all mopey’ around the time Asteria showed up. After a beat of silence, he says. “If your relationship is like that… I don’t believe a gift alone will help you.”

Asteria scoffs. “I know that much! But he’s been needing a new one anyway! I can’t let him keep going with that rusty ol’ thing. And besides! Even if he doesn’t see me as a sister, I can still treat him like my lil’ brother!”

Optimistic, Vaidya thinks. Not that it’s a bad thing. He actually thinks it’s admirable for Asteria to try for so long. That said, as much as he’d like things to turn out well for her, he just can’t see it working out.

After all, he’d know something about being a poorly communicative younger brother. He has a mountain of unread letters to show for it too. Persistence doesn’t always work out for loving older sisters.

“That’s enough about me though!” Asteria laughs the topic off. “Tell me something about yourself, miss postknight! You quiet types tend to have good stories! Like this fella I met in the Valley of Gold! The legendary postknight, you folks call him!”

Vaidya laughs, for real, not a polite chuckle that he usually gives. “It’s a bit unfair to compare me with him, isn’t it?” To the point of absurdity really. Vaidya’s gotten more fit from all the postknight work, but nowhere on that level.

“Well why not?” Asteria grins from ear to ear. “You’re both postknights. The kind of quiet you two are is a bit different though. He had that sort of ‘strong silent sincere’ thing going for him. You just seem awkward. The visor really makes you hard to approach, y’know?”

Ouch.

Seeing Vaidya’s expression, Asteria backtracks. “Your looks are totally different though! Your hair is all wavy and stuff! Like Senna’s with her hair down! And the white streak gives you a really nice look! Like some kind of amazoness warrior calling upon the wrath of the skies!” Asteria gestures wildly in what Vaidya assumes is her mimicry of a lightning strike.

Vaidya twirls that white lock of hair around his finger. “I wouldn’t say I’m much for heroics. Most postknights just run regular deliveries anyway. And my hair is usually tied up.”

“You look good with your hair down though, what’s the occasion?”

“I was in the mood.” Vaidya answers simply. Hiding from old friends and family is hardly an acceptable answer, afterall. 

That said, Vaidya’s curious. “You said earlier that everyone works around Otto’s habits. Isn’t there a better method than waiting for him to wake up?” Vaidya knows the answer, of course. Most of Violetfair just remembers the prices and manages the payments themselves. But Asteria here hasn't caught on, it seems.

Asteria belts out another laugh. “Yeah. Most of us handle the transactions for sleepyhead there. So Otto mainly just organises imports and keeps up shop.”

“So why aren’t you?”

“Ha ha ha…” Asteria laughs awkwardly, looking away. “I don’t actually remember the pricing the same way everyone else does. I’m trying to keep this project secret, so I can’t ask for help either…”

“So we’re really in the same boat then.” Vaidya gives a bemused sigh.

Asteria grins back. “That we are!”

Humming, Vaidya feels his throat clench slightly in thirst. He reaches for the bottle of energy pop in his bag and takes a sip. 

The aftermath of his little all-nighter was a bit embarrassing, really. Maille’s infusion services were held up for his carelessness. Not to mention Maggie and Tina ended up breaking into his dorm for clues, only to see Vaidya sprawled out over a chair with a mess of a kitchen in his wake.

Hey, at least he got the recipe right. Maggie can attest to that too. It's not the perfect surprise Vaidya wanted for their next picnic. But hey, at least the drink’s good.

Well, good enough to be a staple on his trips at least. It’s a bit of a guilty pleasure. But Vaidya indulges nonetheless. Bonus points for being healthy too. 

Tedric still has Vaidya leave a crate of original pops for him though.

Asteria perks her eyebrow. “Is that… energy pop?”

Vaidya sets the bottle down and nods. “It is.”

“Don’t all you postknights stay in Maille? Where do you find the time to get it from Rosavern? Dahlia doesn’t charge cheap either.”

Vaidya adjusts his visor awkwardly. “I- er- made it myself. Miss Dahlia gave me the recipe to try.”

“The Dahlia with an orange ponytail that runs Rosavern? With a bang covering one eye that she flicks oh-so dramatically?”

Vaidya nods.

“The Dahlia with enough sass to talk her way into a pirate crew for stealing wine?”

Vaidya pauses, but nods. It sounds like her anyhow.

After the shock wears off for a moment, Asteria bellows. “I didn’t realise she was taking apprentices! She’s so uptight! Keeping family secrets this… upholding the business that… How’d you meet her standards?”

“An apprenticeship would be strong phrasing.” Vaidya corrects. “She gave me the recipe after I guessed some of the ingredients she used in it.”

Asteria ignores his answer with a smirk. “Slide the bottle over. I wanna see how well you did.”

Vaidya obliges. With a flick of the wrist, the bottle hits Asteria’s waiting hand. She takes a swig and grins. “Not bad at all!” She exclaims. “You have it down to a tee! I gotta write about this to Dahlia! I can’t believe she’s been keeping a secret apprentice around! Maybe I should find my own apprentice! Show her what I can do, y’know?”

At this point Vaidya just laughs along. Asteria’s well in a world of her own—winning whatever imaginary competition she set up between her and Dahlia. The praise feels good though. It’s a warm sort of feeling that bubbles up. Unlike with Maggie and Tina, Asteria doesn’t have the same biases towards Vaidya.

Asteria keeps rambling on about Dahlia for a while. If Vaidya’s being honest, he misses most of it. It’s just a few tidbits of past stories. Like how Asteria was a test subject for Dahlia once upon a time. Or how all of Dahlia’s kitchenware is of Asteria’s design. His chatting partner is having fun at least.

Vaidya decides that Asteria probably wasted enough time keeping him company. He interrupts her. Cutting off some gossip about Dahlia and the legendary postknight. “It’s been some time now. The silver bars are 4,600 coins for two.” He smiles.

Asteria… just sort of gapes at him? It passed his mind earlier. Vaidya was actually thinking about telling her for a while. He just never really found a good time to mention after he forgot earlier, he swears.

“Are… you sure?” Asteria hesitates. Which is fair. For all she knows Vaidya just made up a number.

Vaidya smiles. “Unless he changed his prices recently, that should be it.” And Otto’s prices never change. Vaidya doubts it could ever cross the sleeping merchant’s mind. 

Pulling out a purse, Asteria starts counting coins. “You’re positive? I don’t want to rip him off.”

“If you’re unsure, you can come back and ask later.” Vaidya adds helpfully. “He won’t hold it against you, people ask all the time.” Something Vaidya knows from experience.

A handful of coins jingle as they fall into a register. Taking a pair of silver bars, Asteria asks. “How’d you know? Are you a local?”

Rising to his feet, Vaidya smiles. “Something like that. I wish you good luck with your brother.” His palms press together in front of him.

“Thanks a bunch for this! I’ll be able to get it done today now!” Asteria grins as she drops both bars into her bag. Once she closes her bag, she pauses. “…What’s your name anyway?”

Vaidya considers this for a moment. He doesn’t want to cause any confusion with his new acquaintance. At the same time though, he doesn’t want too many people to know that he’s here. Especially a certain gardener and his sister dearest.

He reaches a suitable compromise. “Ask Miles about me sometime later.” Vaidya answers. “He’ll know it’s me.” Asteria should be too busy working on the axe to ask Miles today. Probably. And Asteria will still learn Vaidyas name, assuming of course she jumps through the hoops.

“I’m hurt!” Asteria exacerbates, clutching her chest dramatically like she was just dealt a mortal wound. “We’ve been bonding for all these hours and you tell me to ask someone else for your name?” With a huff, she looks away with her nose upturned. “If you’re playing it that way, you can ask my name from Dahlia!”

Vaidya can’t help himself. “Very well then, Asteria.” He’s not even hiding his grin at this point. The visor only hides his eyes after all.

Asteria just looks aghast as she takes her hammer and heads into her workshop. Vaidya’s chuckles trail behind her.

And it just occurred to Vaidya that he could have directed her to Dahlia. He sighs, it’s too late now. Instead of worrying about it, he just returns to his original seat.

Time passed. Vaidya doesn’t have the slightest clue how many minutes or hours went by, but time definitely passed. It’s hard to tell from the faint sunbeams that make their way past the Everwood like cracks in a deprecated ceiling. Despite the passage of time, Otto snores on, none the wiser to Vaidya’s presence.

It’s been so long in fact, that another set of footsteps has made itself known anyhow, and in a sleepy town like Violetfair, that says a lot.

These steps are a floaty and confident saunter of faux innocence and mischief. A slight glance over and Vaidya catches torn blue pants and a yellow shirt. Katrina.

Vaidya, doesn’t actually remember much about her. She just… appeared one day. And since then, Vaidya would have to chase her away from his and Naina’s experiments on the regular. The noisy girl wasted no time incorporating herself into Violetfair, for better and for worse.

For worse in Vaidya’s case. Someone like Katrina is too nosy for him to hide away. The word would spread faster than any fire bell could hope to reach. It would probably be best to just ignore her. Save himself the effort.

… Is she stealing evercherries?

Before Vaidya can even think, he calls out to her. “Even if Otto’s asleep, you should still pay for them. Evercherries are cheap here.”

Katrina snaps her head straight towards Vaidya. She looks like the trees suddenly started talking. It’s just Vaidya though. Her expression twists to an unimpressed scowl. “Did he hire you or something?”

“Nothing like that.” Vaidya answers. “I’m just waiting for him to wake up so I can complete my delivery.” He gestures to the scroll. 

Katrina laughs at him. “You’re better off booking a place at the old man’s inn! Otto here won’t wake up for ages!”

Vaidya sighs. “I have time. You could always resort to gathering evercherries yourself instead of thievery too.”

Katrina cringes audibly. “Save it for someone else! You’re not even paid to be here!”

“… I’m paid to be a postknight, you know.”

“Yeah! A postknight!” Waving a set of mocking jazz hands, she adds. “Not a guard!”

For the entire exchange Vaidya hasn’t had to move from his seat. Katrina’s probably sufficiently cowed given that she hasn’t made a break for it. Vaidya wouldn’t let her get away that easily either. He’d hope months of postknight work would at least give him that much stamina.

Or at least do better than the hopeless chases of years past. Katrina’s more than a bit slippery after all. Vaidya would know after the dozens of stolen alchemy materials repurposed for her schemes.

With a roll in her eyes and her back curved confidently backwards, Katrina strolls up to Vaidya’s table. She suddenly slams both hands on the table, trying to jolt Vaidya. It’s a trick that worked in the past. When Vaidya was a dawdling assistant to his older sister.

Not that Vaidya flinches this time. He takes a sip of his energy pop as if a light breeze passed him by. An innocent smile dances on his face.

After a staredown marred by Katrina’s grumbling, Vaidya realises the risk eye-contact holds for his position. He looks back down to avoid recognition. “Is it so difficult to gather evercherries? The Everwood drops them all over the Highlands.” Katrina seems like the outdoorsy type anyways. 

Katrina gives a dignified shake. “And crawl around in the grass all day? No thank you!”

Huh. She didn’t seem the type. Dumbly, Vaidya recites that thought. “You don’t seem the type to be bothered by that.” 

Katrina takes a seat with a groan. “There are so many better things to do than crawl around for cherries though! If you just let me snatch a couple, it’ll save me time!” Absolutely shameless.

Vaidya sighs. “I would rather you not though.”

“How about you foot the bill?”

Vaidya is not getting extorted today. He politely refuses.

“Come on!” Since Katrina took a seat, she’s been constantly wobbling about. Forwards and backwards. Side to side. Though as it stands, she leans in from across the table. “If I’m not getting cherries from Otto, you ought to take responsibility.”

Vaidya sighs. That's not quite how it works. “I already suggested you go gathering them by yourself. And why are you so incessant on getting evercherries?”

“And I vetoed that!” Katrina declares. “Is it so wrong for me to want a snack?”

“It’s wrong for you to steal.” Vaidya clicks his tongue. “And you’re not a fan of evercherries either. The fruits alone are too sour for you.”

Katrina stares at him for a moment. For the first time since being seated, she isn’t bouncing. “How do you know that?”

Whoops. Old habits kicked in. “I’ve had them before.” Vaidya backtracks. “I can’t imagine most people eating them so casually.” That’s a lie. Evercherries are rather tasty in Vaidya’s humble opinion. Even if they are on the tart side, they’re nice and easy to snack on. Admittedly he’s a bit spoiled from having freshly plucked evercherries delivered on the regular from a certain lovestruck gardener. But he digresses. “Unless they’re to your taste?” He asks, tilting his head questioningly.

Thankfully, Katrina takes the bait. Like a child tasting medicine, she sticks her tongue out with a grimace. “Bleh! No thanks! But I still need them!”

“For what? If I may ask.” Katrina’s not exactly a kleptomaniac. So Vaidya’s a touch curious.

Katrina looks away with a huff. “None of your business Ms ‘Oh I’m not a guard, but I’m still going to stop you!’ Why are you even asking? It’s not like you’re going to help me.” She grumbles, downcast.

Vaidya responds plainly, shuffling in his seat. “Well I could.” Egged on by a hard stare from the blonde, he continues. “Depending on the reason of course. But I am not against assisting where I see fit.”

Katrina hums. Twisting the rubber band holding her goggles together, she contemplates the effectively anonymous postknight’s answer. “There’s… a Tanuchi I’ve been taking care of. Ran into it in the woods the other day. I heard from the old man that they usually live off the cherries, so I wanted to give it something to eat.”

Good enough for Vaidya. Once her piece is finished, Vaidya rises to his feet and packs the energy pop and knightmail. Seeing Katrina’s befuddled gaze, he just says. “Let’s go.”

It’s not like Otto’s waking up anytime soon. Vaidya needs to stretch his legs anyway.

“I said I didn’t want to crawl around in the grass yet here we are!” Katrina groans upwards. As if the orange-red roofing of the Everwood’s canopy will respond.

Vaidya gives the path they walk a cursory scan. “If you’re planning to care for a tanuchi, then I would recommend you learn how to gather evercherries yourself.” Catching a glint of light from the ground, he points to it. “There should be some over there.”

For all her complaining, Katrina’s actually quite obliging. After she walks over, she shouts that Vaidya was correct for the umpteenth time. The evercherries go into a half-full basket. Disgruntled, she returns to Vaidya’s side. “How are you right every time?”

They’ve gotten into a routine of sorts. Vaidya points out evercherries. Katrina gathers them. Simple, effective. “The skin of evercherries has a particular sheen. Like a smooth red pearl. The colour alone can be indistinguishable from the underbrush at times, so that sheen is the best way.”

Katrina hums, feigning disinterest. “And how do you know this? Aren’t you a postknight?” 

Vaidya answers with a chuckle. “Gathering skills can be quite useful for a postknight. Some herbs—like evercherries—can be used without any treatment. And potion infusion services lack a stock for customers to use, so we have to offer our own.” Vaidya would know. He runs one afterall. “Would you like to try searching for yourself?”

“You postknights are so weird.” Despite her attitude, Katrina scans their path carefully. 

A silence passes, marred only by the rustling of their footsteps on the underbrush. There’s a slight whooshing of a gentle breeze that passes through Vaidya’s long locks and Katrina’s short hair alike. With narrowed eyes, Katrina’s pupils dart back and forth carefully, a predator on the prowl. More than once the rustling of a bush is met with a tight glare as the pair follow the path.

And then Katrina pounces. 

In a blur of motion, Katrina is suddenly kneeling down at an uninteresting patch of grass. With a hoot of celebration, a hand moves from the ground to her basket and she makes her way back. A complacent smirk rests on Katrina’s face. “Found some.”

And Vaidya laughs at her. 

Something about the display was just so funny to Vaidya. The intense gaze in Katrina’s eye. How carefully she scanned the horizon. That odd attention to the rustling leaves when they’re picking berries. How she pounced on the first glint she saw like it was a scared forest critter instead of some evercherries. It’s like when someone tries to look serious to make up for not knowing what they’re doing.

Katrina is entirely unimpressed at Vaidya’s amusement. “What?!” She exclaims. “I did exactly what you said I was supposed to do!” She continues, holding up her basket. “I got the cherries and everything too!”

Forcing out his last few chuckles, Vaidya smiles. “Indeed. You did well too. I just found your expression amusing.”

Katrina puffs her chest slightly from the praise, but her expression stays flat. “What? I was doing what you said!” She looks about one step away from whacking Vaidya with the basket and spilling the evercherries everywhere.

“You’re so tense!” Vaidya laughs. “We’re gathering berries. They won’t run from you. And I’ll notify you if you miss any.”

Flushed red, Katrina just grumbles as they walk side-by-side. Occasionally, Katrina walks ahead to gather some evercherries (making a point to seem laid back to an amused Vaidya). Rarely, Vaidya will point out a spot Katrina missed. To which the girl dashes to pick them and return. Each return Vaidya flashes an encouraging smile met with a disgruntled huff.

It’s the sort of scene the Vaidya of years past never would have imagined. Those days were filled with regular chases (which Vaidya always lost), and frustrated grumbling in the wake of Katrina’s pranks. He never let his temper get the better of him, but he had far from a high opinion of the girl.

Today though? There’s a warmth. It settles into Vaidya’s chest like a bubbling soup cooling to a halt. Vaidya breathes the chilly, floral, Violetfair air with a relaxed smile. And before long the pair are headed back to town with a full basket.

Katrina in particular is very proud of their collection. The basket weighs her down, but she cheers nonetheless. “Look at it! It’s filled to the brim!” She practically shoves the basket in Vaidya’s face, careful not to spill it.

Vaidya chuckles. “It should last your friend some time. If you gather evercherries again, I would recommend you bring that tanuchi with you as well. They’re quite suited to finding evercherries. And it would be good exercise.” 

“And I’ll get better at finding the cherries too!” Katrina declares.

Vaidya nods along. Without much thought, he takes one of the evercherries and pops it into his mouth. The berry’s firm flesh gives way to Vaidya’s teeth. It’s sour and tart—as expected—but the cool juice flows down his throat with a distinct sweetness that lingers on his tongue. It tingles nicely.

Katrina grimaces. “Didn’t you say something like ‘Oh, most people wouldn’t like the cherries’ or something? How can you stand the stuff?”

After a pause to get his story straight, Vaidya answers. “I don’t expect most people to enjoy them, but there’s a sweetness to evercherries I enjoy.” A polite smile rests on his face.

Visibly disgusted with Vaidya’s taste, Katrina looks back ahead. A beat of silence passes. “We gathered a whole lot of cherries y’know. You could keep some for yourself.”

Vaidya looks over at Katrina. Her face is as red as the evercherries they gathered—clearly not used to something like this. Caught up in his own disguise and thoughts, Vaidya never actually considered that this would be a new experience for Katrina as well. He just smiles in response. “Much obliged.”

Vaidya’s smile is met with a smile of her own. “I’m Katrina by the way. What’s your name?”

Ah, here we go again. 

Like with Asteria, Katrina has her own business to attend to. So Vaidya can just hope his same solution will work twice. Probably. “Ask Miles about me later.” Vaidya puts a finger on his lips with a cheeky smile. “Think of it as a surprise.”

Ideally, by the time Miles hears about Vaidya’s visit, he’ll be back in Maille.

Katrina raises an eyebrow at that, but doesn’t ask any questions. Vaidya supposes whatever nosiness she had in her settled down from all the hiking they did. “Suit yourself.”

With a small sack of evercherries wrapped around his fingers, Vaidya makes his way back to Otto’s shop to see a figure hunched before the sleeping merchant. A couple steps closer, and Vaidya sees the figure wrap Otto in a blanket from his comically large knapsack. It’s that same knapsack that identifies the figure as the wandering merchant Adrian.

Vaidya pops an evercherry in his mouth and takes a seat in the same stool as before. It’s at the perfect angle to watch Adrian fret over Otto. Normally, Vaidya would say something, but he’d hate to interrupt. He swallows the evercherry.

Somehow, Adrian finds a way to drag that knapsack over every square inch of Kurestal, and—if the higher ranked postknights are truthful—Quivtol too. Since Vaidya’s not much of a shopper, he’s never had the urge to browse Adrian’s rare wares. And today’s no different. 

Once in a while—when he watched shop for the sleeping merchant—Vaidya would play third fiddle to Adrian and Otto. It feels weird thinking that since… Otto’s always asleep. But it’s true. Somehow. Even now Vaidya can’t bring himself to break the mood they set. There’s something about that glint in Adrian’s eye. Vaidya takes another evercherry, nonplussed.

Whatever apprehension Vaidya felt earlier today is gone now. He supposes the encounters with Asteria and Katrina helped him settle down. Just in case, he adjusts the visor and brushes his hair with his hands to fix up his “disguise.” He swallows the evercherry.

Alerted by the rustling of Vaidya’s movements, Adrian suddenly faces him. Vaidya gives him a polite wave. A shade not unlike the evercherries covers the merchant’s face. “Wotcher mate! ‘Ow long were ya’ there?!”

“Not too long. Pay me no mind.” Vaidya’s tone is pleasant, exuding the warmth from his last two encounters. Another evercherry is popped in his mouth. He chews slowly, giving the merchant sufficient time to respond.

In an attempted (but failing) discreetness, Adrian takes some careful steps away from the sleeping merchant. His golden silk robe flutters and glistens. “I- er- wasn’t doing anything odd, y’hear?!”

“I believe you.” Vaidya responds after swallowing the evercherry. He really missed having fresh evercherries. For being a central hub of postknight operations, imports don’t come easily to Maille. Maybe he should ask Sandy for some tips later.

Once he gathers his bearings, Adrian gives Vaidya a good look up and down, like he’s trying to remember a face. “Have I seen you ‘round before? Me shop’s open ta postknights all over, but I don’t remember you.”

Vaidya tilts his head thoughtfully. He concludes that a vague answer is probably safest. “We’ve met on occasion. I’m not much for shopping, so I probably didn’t leave much of an impression.”

After some contemplation, Adrian nods eagerly with a grin. “Yer right about that. Folks who spare a bit a’ coin are valued customers.” Vaidya’s thankful that this merchant only has eyes for business. “Are ya on a delivery?”

Vaidya nods. “I’m waiting for Otto to wake up so he can accept it.”

“Considerate of ya. Most of ya postknights just toss it ta him half-asleep.” Adrian’s grin is toothy, his sharp sawlike teeth on full display. “I’m sure th’ fella appreciates it.”

Ah. So that’s how the other postknights handle Otto’s delivery. Vaidya just nods along, chewing on another evercherry. It’s too late to turn back anyhow. He might as well see this delivery through.

Adrian goes to Vaidya’s side. “What’s th’ delivery anyway?”

Vaidya returns the question with a shrug. Swallowing the evercherry, he says. “I wasn’t informed of its contents when I accepted the delivery.” Chuckling awkwardly, he adds. “Something came up for the original postknight, so I took the delivery in his stead.”

Adrian chuckles with him. “Yer a long ways from Maille. That’s for sure. Awfully generous of ya ta’ make th’ trip.” He readjusts his bright yellow hat.

Shrugging, Vaidya slumps over the table. The pale wood of the table cools his cheek as he rests his head on the table. “I’m sure you’ve travelled more than I have though.”

A snicker makes its way through Adrian’s shark-like teeth. It’s somewhat muffled by his arms. “Doesn’t make th’ trip any easier. But business is business. Beats dealin’ with those Lumero folk.”

All Vaidya musters out is a polite half-nod. He can’t comment much on the merchant guild, so vague agreement seems appropriate. His eyes flutter as a wave of drowsiness spreads over his body. It starts from the point his cheek rested on the table, like the gentle impact is slowly shaking his entire body.

Taking the nod as a sign to continue, Adrian rambles on. “Th’ folks in Lumero ain’t much good here either. ‘Specially in these parts. Small towns make exclusive markets. I might be keen, but those folks have long, long arms.” Glancing sideways, Adrian sighs. “Small towns like this aren’t good for my type though. Tradition and imports don’t mix.”

A wooden table never felt so good before. Vaidya shuffles slightly, finding the right position. “It’s good that you’re not here for business then.”

Outside Vaidya’s view, Adrian glows pink from the accusation. And he exclaims some elaborate excuse. Something about customers being everywhere, and non-Lumero merchants looking out for one another. Most of it goes over Vaidya’s head anyway. It’s none of his business, and he’s too dazed to care.

A knowing sigh rings out from beyond his field of vision. “Ya can rest easy. Good for long trips. I’ll watch yer things.” 

A slight murmur of thanks leaves Vaidya’s lips before he drifts away.

When he dreams, Vaidya doesn’t see anything. Or more technically, his dreams have no visual element. No tastes and no scents either, actually. Only feeling, and hearing. Somehow though, his dreams have colour.

Like his dreams with the plush feel of Sandy’s cushioned seating, backed by fire crackling and the murmuring of Hettik and Sandy. The damp coolness of Lily’s laboratory as the crackling, hollow sound of chemical reactions take place. They’re all doused in a childish, joyous yellow. Like his soul is being pulled out of his body to be dyed in those colours and feelings and warmth.

Or dull greys of glass alchemy vials dancing on his fingers, cool to the touch and clattering against each other. Or the messy streaks of paranoid, fearful purples from Dahlia’s domineering voice, the rabble of the background thundering like drums. 

Or the feeling of an envelope, untextured and plain, tainted a gloomy, staticky black.

Lot’s of Vaidya’s dreams are like this, actually. Vague snippets of memories spread out over a canvas. Stripped of layers containing vision and taste and smell and context, leaving only colour.

It’s a weird, surmised, ungrounded description that Vaidya gives his dreams. But it’s how he understands them. And that’s what counts

Today’s dreams are messy and mixed. There are uneven snippets of Miles’ voice, amused, kind, and taunting all at once. Vaidya can just barely feel a cool ceramic teacup in his hands. Or the light velvety feel of flower petals dancing on his fingertips. Or his tiny hand, completely covered by Miles’ big hand. Or the sound of boiling water, billows of steam hitting his face. All these come in chaotic splashes of red and green and yellow and purple.

If Vaidya had to pick someone outside his family that influenced him most, it would be Miles. It’s weird to think of it that way though. That would imply—somehow—that someone who shared more meals with him and his sister than their parents; who would incessantly (and sometimes disruptively) check on their experiments with worried eyes despite knowing nothing; who had a backup set of keys because of Naina’s inattention to anything outside alchemy; who needlessly fussed over both siblings’ dietary habits; somehow wasn’t family.

Vaidya’s not privy to the details of how this came to be. The details of whatever encounter that led to Miles being a regular guest are far from Vaidya’s business. Although the way Miles glances at Naina gives Vaidya an idea as to why Miles hasn’t stopped.

The chaotic splashes of colour expand and contract, stretch and shrink, overlap, intersect, and breathe. Like someone weaved a cloth out of still-live Phyleaf bugs. A living collage. They twist into messy layers and pulsate in rings and ripples. Deformed, chaotic swivels showing off a host of contradictions that can only be directed at family.

But home nonetheless.

Because after everything, that’s still what Miles is. Or rather, he’s at least one half of it. A home needs a family, or something like that. Definitely more than the naive familiarity Vaidya’s coasted on today.

It really did burn when Miles tried to talk Vaidya out of being a postknight.

Not that Vaidya wasn’t expecting it. But it still stings to hear it. You can’t walk through hot coals by bracing yourself. You still have to grind your teeth, bear it step by step. Word by word.

Only Vaidya ever took his current occupation seriously. And again, it’s not like Vaidya didn’t expect this. On this side of Kurestal, postknights are just convenient outsiders more than anything else. Some outsider thing for outsiders to become. Not for one of the villagers. And certainly not for the younger brother of the local genius.

So a storm burst through, wailing through and out the town. Stormed hard enough that by the time it reached Maille all that was left were clusters of tiny pale clouds that would be blown away by a light puff of air. So to say.

The first thing Vaidya sees when he opens his eyes is a glass of white yoghurt speckled with purple berries and brown leafy garnishes. The combined package is laid out on a brass platter right before his eyes. There’s the dull murmuring of conversation coming from behind him.

Beside where his head was, his knapsack is laid sideways on the table, and beside that is the bag of evercherries. Just to be sure, Vaidya shuffles through his knapsack. The herbs, drinks, medical supplies and knightmail scroll are all left untouched. Vaidya sighs in relief and adjusts his visor.

“Well, would ya look who’s awake!” Rings a voice that is definitively, indubitably, most assuredly, Miles. 

It’s just Vaidya’s luck really. He lowers his visor more and brushes his hair with his fingers. Once his scrambled disguise is fixed, he swivels in his seat and turns to Miles, careful not to make eye contact. Wordlessly, he returns a wave to Miles.

Miles’ attire is lax with baggy pants striped in blue and white with a pink vest backed by a paler pink shirt. As usual, he’s leaning back with his arms crossed. Confident, but not trying too hard.

“The meal out there’s yer’s.” Miles points out. “On the house. Consider it thanks fer watching our boy here.” Vaidya can almost see Miles’ warm grin through his visor. A hint of smoke lingers in the air from Miles’ pipe. Sage.

One husky murmur of “thanks” and a slight bow later, Vaidya turns back around to the meal. Now that Vaidya thinks about it, it’s… not actually a dish Vaidya ever remembered Miles preparing. It’s a bit odd, Vaidya thinks, for how much Miles valued those traditional dishes.

Mistaking Vaidya’s pause for meekness, Miles laughs. “No need to be polite! And don’t ya worry about the taste either. It’s one of Chef Fortuna’s recipes. A darkberry parfait she calls it. Hope ya don’t mind me using some of yer evercherries for it.”

Vaidya doesn’t mind at all. Rather, he’s perfectly happy grabbing the spoon, stirring the parfait, and taking his first bite.

The yoghurt makes a lovely smooth base, with the spices complementing the yoghurt’s creaminess. Then Vaidya bites down and juice of the berries mix in with the yoghurt, leading to a rich mixture of sweetness, sourness, and creaminess. Swallowing, Vaidya hums in delight.

“That’s a nice expression.” Miles' voice has a warm undertone. “Maille’s quite the distance from Violetfair. Were ya planning to make the round trip on an empty stomach?”

Vaidya shakes his head slowly. His plan was to grab some evercherries on his own before Katrina came by. They’re good for vitality afterall. Sure, evercherries won’t supplement a full meal. But Vaidya wasn’t planning to stay as long as he did.

“Those evercherries yer snacking on don’t count by the way. It’s like drinking tea or coffee. Nothing substantial there.” Vaidya can quite easily conjure up Miles’ disappointed face in his mind, the same one he had when forcing the siblings to take breaks.

Vaidya returns a reluctant nod before taking another bite of the parfait.

One part amused, two parts exasperated, Miles huffs out a puff of sweet-smelling sage smoke. “Well I’m glad I dropped by when I did. Wouldn’t do for us ta send ya off on an empty stomach.” In a less lecturing, more curious tone, he adds. “Are ya a local? Most outside folk don’t care to eat evercherries straight.”

In response, Vaidya very smoothly and discretely freezes up. Suppose he nods, then it would have to be followed up by a justification on who he is because for as sleepy a town as Violetfair is, everyone knows everyone. That would reveal him quick. If he shakes his head, that would just make Miles more curious, which would also unmask him.

And Vaidya can’t speak either. One word and the entire disguise vanishes before Miles like a hand rippling through a veil of water. Vaidya’s surprised it hasn’t already. It’s a classic catch-22.

Miles chuckles. “I expected ya ta be more talkative from what I heard. Still sleepy?” That works too. Vaidya happily takes the free escape with a nod. “I hope ya wake up some then. Unless ya plan to stay here a while.” Miles laughs warmly. “If ya do, the inn’s open. I’ll give ya a first timer’s discount too.” 

Vaidya shakes his head. That won’t be necessary. He’s definitely not planning to overstay. A beat passes and Vaidya uses the silence to take another bite out of his parfait.

“Best ya hurry then.” Miles pauses dramatically, taking the time to circle around Vaidya. He can feel a teasing smile dance on Miles’ lips. “Otto’s awake right now. No promises on later though.” Miles taps his wrist like he’s checking a watch in Vaidya’s peripheral.

At Miles’ words, Vaidya turns around and sure enough, Otto is awake at his table and chatting with Adrian (he’s actually only half-awake, but really, that’s the best you can get from Otto). Hastily, Vaidya shuffles through his bag to grab the knightmail scroll and rises. Not that they’re rushed, but rather he’s quick, snappy and efficient, like a well-oiled machine.

Miles laughs at Vaidya’s movements, following him to the front counter. “That certainly woke ya yup!” In response, Vaidya looks down to hide the red in his cheeks.

A few steps closer and the two merchants pause whatever conversation they have. Adrian casually waves Vaidya and Miles over. “Look who’s finally awake!”

Otto looks at Vaidya for just a little longer than what would be considered polite, scanning Vaidya like he’s looking for something. Eventually he gives up his search. “Thank you…” He bows. “It’s nice of you to wait for me… But you didn’t have to take the time… It should only be a few bouquets of flowers…”

“Nothing to worry about.” Vaidya smiles. “I’m here now anyway.” He opens the scroll.

And flowers just burst out like a fountain. A smooth stream with bundles upon bundles of blue and purple blooms blast out of the scroll. A crisp, almost minty scent comes in their wake as Vaidya falls over and is buried beneath.

And a note flutters onto his face. Vaidya opens it. It’s in the rough, messy cursive of Emelyn’s handwriting. 

Hey there Otto!

I know you only needed a few bouquets, but there are so many Crystal Larkspurs left after Blossomfest that I decided to send all of them over! Violetfair has lots of flowers anyway, so they can just add to the scenery!

Anyways, thanks for the invigoroot you shipped over! It really helped cure th–

Vaidya knows the end of this story. He folds the note closed, sinking into the mattress of Crystal Larkspurs.

A warning from Hector certainly would’ve been nice, but here he is. There’s muffled sniggering from one side of Vaidya, and shameless bellowing from the other. He joins in the chortles.

It’s absolutely more than just a few bouquets worth. So many that the flowers are bunched together with twine like bundles of hay instead of wrapped in colourful paper. Vaidya sighs, kicking out of the pile and fixing his hair and visor. At least they’re bundled at all. 

Flower-strewn and chuckling, Vaidya hands the note over to a rather shocked looking Otto. His blonde bedhead is even more frazzled, his eyes fully opened for the first time in Vaidya’s life. Even theft didn’t bother him this much.

In other words, Otto is distraught. “I’m… sorry about the mess.” Vaidya flashes a hopefully reassuring smile as Otto accepts the note. Like Vaidya, he only reads the first few lines before groaning softly. “We… have all of the leftovers from Blossomfest.”

The other merchant in the group catches his breath, but still holds up a toothy grin. “What did ya need all these flowers for? A town like this ain’t in much need of much more.”

“I… only ordered a couple.” Otto scratches the back of his head, ruffling frizzy hair. “Most of these are extras…”

“My fault! My fault!” Laughs Miles. “I asked Otto ta place an order fer me. Didn’t realise it’d lead into this mess! Just wanted ta expand my repertoire.”

Otto groans. “Can… I even sell off this many?” Swirls appear in Otto’s eyes from the prospect of even trying.

“I’ll take ‘em off ya.” Miles offers. “I ordered ‘em anyway. Should be my mess ta handle.” A visible sweatdrop streaks down his face. ”Might need a helping hand though.”

“We have our work cut out then…” Otto sighs. He turns to Vaidya apologetically. “I’m sorry… Adrian told me about you watching my shop while you waited… Could you help me one more time?”

Vaidya nods. He’d just feel bad about leaving them behind to handle the flowers. Though if he knew this was going to happen, he’d just send them to Miles outright.

Vaidya supposes they make quite a sight. Him, Miles, and Adrian each carry boxes overflowing with flowers to Miles’ inn. Otto stayed behind, packaging the flowers instead of doing the heavy lifting.

Adrian and Miles exchange banter with breathy huffs (somehow Adrian still manages to carry his monstrous backpack with him). On the occasion when a question was pointed at Vaidya, he’d just nod or shake his head. Asteria hammers away at her project as they pass her by. Vaidya nods to her, and she waves back with an amused look.

It was just a period of walking back and forth really. The banter quiets down in favour of laborious breathing. Asteria’s project goes from a chunk of metal to a proper axe, sharpened to perfection. Vaidya’s arms grow more gelatinous with each passing minute.

The orange-red hues of the Everwood’s canopy cool down into duller tones as they reach the reddish-purple tail end of the afternoon.

“Thank you so much for this!” Otto bows down repeatedly. “I… didn’t know what I’d do with all the flowers!”

Adrian procures a vase of the flowers out of his sleeves. When did Adrian find the time? Vaidya doesn’t have a clue. “Hope ya don’t mind keeping some though. Thought they’d be good as a set piece. Crystar Larkspurs suit unique folk, and there’s no one quite like you.” He averts his eyes awkwardly at the last sentence.

“They do look nice…” Otto smiles. “You… can leave them on the counter… their scent’s actually quite… relaxing…”

And Otto dozes off right in front of them. Thankfully only now that their work is done. It’s a well deserved rest after the merchant was uncharacteristically dutiful in packing up the flowers.

Adrian catches Otto’s wobbly body and gently sits him down into a chair. “I’ll keep an eye on this one. You two go along.” His smile exudes a fondness not found in his prior grins and sneers.

“Thank ye for yer help.” Miles nods before turning to Vaidya. “You, come with me. I’ll get some food in that stomach of yer’s before ya head off.” And Vaidya’s too exhausted to reject the offer. 

After grabbing his bag, Vaidya takes the leftover parfait and walks beside Miles. The minty scent of the larkspurs cling to their clothes, almost choking with their breathlessness.

“Crystal Larkspurs aren’t a bad fit fer that Otto.” Miles chuckles. “They’re the sort of flowers that suit the unique types. And there ain’t many as different as our Otto.” He proclaims proudly. 

Vaidya’s inclined to agree. Despite that, Otto characterises the town pretty well, he thinks. Inclination to tradition aside—Violetfair’s a relaxing stop, where it’s easy to prop yourself by a tree and doze off, heck, Vaidya only needed a stool. That said, he’s actually quite happy he visited today. Even if he risked getting his cover blown by the gardener in front of him.

… Was Vaidya always as tall as Miles?

It’s not a thought that Vaidya considered when he woke up in a mix of drowsiness and caution. But now that his heart is cooled,  it’s something that stands out to him. 

It only makes sense, really. Vaidya has been gone that long. It’s only natural that some things change even as Violetfair stays stagnant. Still though, his heart clenches up. It’s as if all the time Vaidya spent away suddenly passed all at once. Like he woke up from a nice dream, and suddenly here he is: taller, older.

Miles’ home is the same as always. White petrified wooden beams hold the entire structure up, lined by vines and flowers of all sorts of colours. An indoor jungle, if you will. Not so much so that the flora overwhelms the visitor, but enough that the fusion of white, leafy greens, and vibrant colours join together tastefully.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Miles says. “I’ll have some tea ready. Evercheer tea—a specialty here. It’ll perk ya right up.” Vaidya missed this. Teatime with Sandy and Hettik is lovely, but it can’t compare to Miles’ personal brew.

Rather than seating himself at a dining table large enough for Miles’ extended family. Out of habit—or perhaps, nostalgia—Vaidya follows Miles into the kitchen. It’s a familiar picture: an almost obsessively pristine white kitchen lined with pink cupboards. Beside an open-flame stove is a miniature staircase of a spice rack organised in a seemingly random fashion—though Vaidya knows Miles well enough that there’s some reason behind their placements.

Vaidya seats himself comfortably on one of the tall stools—resting his arms on a countertop—and watches Miles get to work. 

Before starting, Miles raises an eyebrow at Vaidya. “The chairs in the dining room might suit ya better. Easier on the back.” After a moment of eye contact, Miles shrugs. “Suit yerself.” He gets to work, as he always does.

Vaidya takes a bite from the still unfinished parfait.

Unlike the countless other times Vaidya’s watched Miles cook though, Vaidya really watches. It’s like a spell’s been broken. Miles is no longer spinning evercheer tea into existence out of the tips of his fingers before an awestruck younger Vaidya’s eyes. It’s a recipe Vaidya now knows—if not this particular version. Instead of empty, hazy, steps where Miles does something—in all the vagueness the word entails—Vaidya can tell what exactly he’s doing. And the Vaidya from even just a few months ago seems all the sillier for it.

The recipe Vaidya learnt from Sandy is true to Miles’—mostly. Chef Fortuna certainly did her research before handing off the recipe (Vaidya knows from experience that Miles wouldn’t give it away willingly).

That is to say though, that Sandy makes a very fine evercherry juice. 

In hindsight, the recipe Sandy showed off to Vaidya was evercherry juice more than anything else. She said that peach tea wasn’t really “peach tea,” but her evercheer tea doesn’t even cross that bar. It was just evercherry juice with a fancy label. 

Vaidya was just nostalgic, or short-sighted, or distracted, or something. It never even crossed his mind. All he probably cared about was tasting evercherries for the first time in months, or something. Evercherries are already invigorating, so the relaxing effect is all the same, even without being a tea.

And suddenly the extra sweetness of Sandy’s brew makes sense. Where Sandy just used water, Miles takes the extra effort of using invigoroot tea. An easy pick-me-up in the highlands—strong at that. A younger Vaidya had far too fragile a palate for its sharp bitterness.

He scrapes clumps of parfait that stick to the edge of the glass with his spoon as Miles goes on.

Offhandedly, Vaidya glances out the window. The blinds are drawn, but hints of colours sneak their way through—and not just the reds, oranges and purples that encompass Violetfair the same way green and blue spread over the plains of Kurestal. Flowers, obviously. Miles is a gardener afterall.

With one part of his past sufficiently re-explored, Vaidya taps his glass with the spoon and hops off his stool. 

“Leave the dishes on the counter. I’ll deal with them.” Miles says without missing a beat. He attentively eyes the pot that he’s stirring with a practised motion. 

Outside of Miles’ peripheral, Vaidya nods and slowly heads to the backdoor. He pauses for a second though. Right now he’s a stranger, not Vaidya. Before Vaidya can turn back and ask for permission, Miles calls again. “Yer free ta look around my garden. It’s the pride of this town here!” With his chin up, he laughs heartily. “Quiet folk like you ought to enjoy the place plenty!”

Taking the invitation, Vaidya opens the door and steps out. With the door gently shut behind him, Vaidya takes a few steps into the yard. Without sparing the flowers a glance, he lets himself fall backwards onto a patch of grass to stare up at the Everwood’s canopy.

Closing his eyes, Vaidya takes a deep breath.

In name, this place is the only one designated as “Miles’ Garden.” It’s a plot of land by Miles’ home that is his and his alone to grow whatever he cares to. But in a broader, more holistic sense, the entire town is Miles’ garden.

Miles’ handiwork permeates into all of Violetfair. In every corner of Violetfair, there’s the faint scent of flowers that seeps into your lungs and relaxes your everything. Your arms slacken. Your pace slows and dawdles. Your eyes droop just enough that you’ll come off as satisfied rather than tired, and a silent hum trails out of your lips.

That scent seeps from every pore of Violetfair. From flower-filled barrels vigilantly watching the roadside. Peeking out the hollowed-out stumps of trees from the flowers tucked comfortably within. Growing out of cracks and crevices in the aging, petrified pale wood of every building. Hung over Otto’s shop like Winterfest lights. In tiny growing piles on each step of the stairs outside Vaidya’s home, sneaking up the balcony like a shy lover.

And here, Miles’ backyard, is the epicentre. Whence every single one of those blooms came. Every wistful trace of pollen, every hint of lingering fragrance. And Vaidya lies here in the centre of it all.

The grass is very cozy. The coolness seeps past Vaidya’s clothes as he stares up at the canopy. His eyes instinctively trail from branch to branch—following some imaginary road. Vaidya’s finger follows this path, drawing shapes of stars and leaves and sparkles far up in the overhang.

He stays like this for a few or a few dozen minutes. His mind blankly follows whatever shape conveniently reveals itself between the Everwood’s branches and Vaidya’s fingers. The crisp, flowery fragrance sinks him further into the grass.

Satisfied, Vaidya kicks to his feet, and takes a proper look around the garden. As always, the garden is still in full bloom. He sets down one of the paths, lined by tall hedges peppered with smallish orange blossoms and a row of decorated flower wreaths following the hall like windows in a mansion.

If Miles had the space, he’d probably make his own maze with the hedges. Even more, he’d challenge passersby to navigate it with a lazy jeer and a prideful laugh. But instead there are two layers of hedge hallways that circle around an oval centre space meant to impress guests to his inn.

Outside the centerspace, the area is less organised. Instead of maintaining the dramatic effect of the centre, Miles settled for simply letting the flowers look their part. With hedges carefully alternating between a selection of species in a sort of tasteful randomness—or so Miles said—and more haphazard flower arrangements and rearrangements hung gently on wreaths.

Every last plant in Miles’ garden is blessed two-fold. On one side, they’re nourished by the overflowing magic of the Everwood that graces all of the Highlands. On the other, they’re cared for by the hand of a laid back yet dutiful gardener. 

Vaidya absentmindedly glances from one flower wreath to another as he walks along the halls.

…

Is that a new wreath? 

The thought makes Vaidya double back, like he missed some critical event or detail. Not that Miles practising artistic experimentation is new. It’s just that… Vaidya was always the first to know. 

Well, not just Vaidya at first. Naina too. Miles’ would always show off the hedge wall featuring his latest arrangement to ask for opinions. At first, he justified it by saying “ye alchemists work with plants all the time! Ye ought ta have the best eye fer this sort of thing!” Afterwards, it was just routine.

And the occasional wreath was exchanged from a blushing gardener and an oblivious alchemist right before a younger Vaidya’s eyes.

But Naina got more and more caught up in her research and writing. Publishing her own Almanac was a big deal afterall. Even if Naina herself took it all in stride.

Regardless, only one of the siblings remained for the viewings, and then—two or so years later—none.

And now here’s a new arrangement Vaidya hasn’t seen. In a weird messy clash of orange and purple. Offhandedly, Vaidya wonders if there was someone else Miles to act as the sibling’s stand-in. 

It makes sense. Naturally, Miles would need someone’s help. A tiny bitter seed of tension plants itself in Vaidya’s throat. How could he find someone that let’s that pass?

Vaidya continues down the hall. The arrangement is simple enough that you can reach the centre in only a couple moments, but complicated enough that you can absentmindedly wander for as long as you please.

Passing by another new arrangement, Vaidya settles for the former.

Miles’ handiwork culminates into a carefully trimmed spiral of flowers that gently crawl up the hedges bottom to top. Though unmoving, the tiny blossoms of orange, red, and purple that dot the hedges are arranged to a dizzying effect. Standing in the centre of the centre, it’s like you’re in the eye of a hurricane and sunset breaks in, dying the winds in its colours.

Effect aside, it’s still a space for guests. Vaidya sits at a table and lets his eyes trail the winds of this ‘storm.’

Vaidya remembers when Miles was working on this spot. For the first time in a long while, he and his sister had to cook for themselves to… a below satisfactory effect (in hindsight, they both absolutely deserved Miles’ scolding).

Looking at the unchanged blankets of pale-blue blossoms before the hedge walls, Vaidya raps his fingers on the table.

With half a year gone, Miles came knocking on the siblings’ door half an hour before bed with a proud grin and an uncharacteristic slouch. The siblings were practically abducted to the other side of town. 

In the present, where Vaidya is, it’s late in the afternoon. But when it’s night in Violetfair, it’s never pitch black. Lingering magic from the canopy of the Everwood sparkle above the same way stars do, and from the ground rises tiny particles of light from that same magic.

Combined with Miles’ own craftsmanship, the resulting sight more than awestruck the siblings that night.

Outside Vaidya’s periphery there’s the sound of rustling footsteps on grass. “Enjoying the view?” Miles asks. “You were out for so long, I had half a thought you escaped.”

Vaidya turns his head to the voice. Miles casually strolls in with a tray on each hand. He talks while he sets the table. “Ye only get ta see half the true beauty though. The view at night is the real thing. Unless of course, ye’d be willing ta stay the night?”  

Vaidya shakes his head. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen afterall. Unbeknownst to the caterer, he’s not only seen it, but he was one of the first. And besides, it’s a surefire way for Vaidya to come out unmasked.

Miles sighs humorously. “Can’t say I didn’t try. You postknights are something else if you can make round trips just like that.” He pours steaming maroon liquid into two teacups and passes one to Vaidya. “Here, it’ll perk ya right up.”

Gratefully, Vaidya accepts the cup. Before taking a sip, he puts the cup to his lips and blows on it. A waft of hot, sweet, cherry-scented air goes through his nostrils, washing away the gloomy thoughts of Miles finding a replacement. This is the stuff.

He takes a sip, and he can’t find the words. He’s just… home. On a tea break with Naina. Or cozily lounging about in Miles’ inn. He hums warmly.

“To yer taste, I take it?” Miles leans back in his chair, eying Vaidya’s expression with a smirk.

Vaidya nods. Without question. A lazy smile dances on his lips.

Miles shifts the second platter to the middle of the table. “Since yer making a trip after this, there’s nothing too filling here. Can’t let ya get any cramps afterall.” He winks with a lopsided grin that lets his teeth shine. “Come again, and I’ll get ya a full course meal though.”

True to his word, the platter’s stacked with biscuits and a jar of jam. An easy snack for waiting for reagents to react, dry, condense, or anything really. 

It’s not as healthy as Miles would like, but he conceded when he learnt it was the easiest way to get the siblings to eat between lulls in their alchemy work (though Vaidya will proudly proclaim that he wasn’t as bad as his sister). There was always a platter, even if it wasn’t always finished.

Maybe this is just what Miles does for guests. Vaidya gives a slight bow, and starts spreading jam on one of the pale flat biscuits.

Though it does strike Vaidya as odd that the gardener across the table takes his own biscuit and butter knife. The Miles Vaidya knows would never dare ruin his diet with a harmless biscuit. He’s more the type to sigh in surrender instead of forcing his hand.

The odd note doesn’t stop Vaidya from taking a bite though. It crumbles pleasantly with Vaidya’s chewing—dry crumbs and wet jam complementing one another just to Vaidya’s liking.

A slightly bitter and earthy taste in the biscuit overpowers the jam’s sweetness. Invigoroot. It makes the biscuit just the slightest bit harder to swallow, but Vaidya manages.

Invigoroot might be one of Violetfair’s best sources of nutrients, but Vaidya’s not too sure if it’s enough to consider the snack “healthy.” In spite of that, Miles indulges himself with a thin film of jam. He holds his biscuit as if he was tasting from a wine glass, legs crossed and leaned back. Vaidya can almost hear a showy smacking of the lips.

On Vaidya’s side though, he makes sure to lather on a thicker layer of jam for his second biscuit. It goes down much more pleasantly.

Miles chuckles at that. “A bit of a sweet tooth, aren’t ya?”

With an indignant huff, Vaidya shakes his head. The bitter edging of invigoroot hardly suits the casual snack biscuits are meant to be. They’re meant to be grinded into tea, not hiding in a treat. Miles is just being devious.

Shrugging shamelessly, Miles laughs. “Sorry sorry. I didn’t think I added that much invigoroot to the mix.” He waves his biscuit around casually as he talks. “Just think of it as a little bonus to keep ya pumped for yer trip.”

Vaidya sighs. Naturally, he of all people would know the benefits of Invigoroot. He’s still an alchemist, afterall. It completely throws off the balance of Miles’ usual recipe though. The sweet jam washes down his throat, but the bitterness still lingers on his tongue for a moment.

“Most folk don’t pick up on the stuff though.” With a singular biscuit finished, Miles lights his pipe. He takes it up to his lips and takes a deep breath of sage with a disinterested look. “Granted, you’re not the typical type of folk are ya? What with your gloomy cap and silence.”

“Vaidya.”

He didn’t.

Elsewhere, there’s a chessboard. The king topples over with a resounding clack. Loss by checkmate.

In Vaidya’s defence, he did his best. Sure, not talking was kind of a silly decision, but it’s not like he had any alternatives. And if it’s the thing with the biscuits, Vaidya can’t really control his taste can he? The evercherries were only meant to be a snack too! He didn’t think he’d be called out on it!

This would’ve been way easier if Otto was awake when Vaidya arrived. It’s not like Hector gave him an explanation on how to handle the merchant! He didn’t even explain the package! What is he? Just some convenient backup errand boy for Violetfair deliveries?

He should’ve just rejected Hector when he had the chance. Skip the offer over and just do infusions or something. Turning back the clock sounds real appealing right about now.

Vaidya’s eyes glaze over slightly. This was one of the only things he was supposed to avoid. He was doing so well too. Maybe. Or maybe the whole endeavour was pointless from the start and he should’ve resigned himself the second he stepped onto the pinkish-orange grass of Violetfair.

Now all that’s left is whatever talk Miles is going to have ready for him. After months of radio silence, he’s hardly going to be let go with a couple passing greetings and a wave off.

Miles just laughs at Vaidya.

So Vaidya here is sitting up straight as a board. Face-to-face with a Miles that absolutely saw through his disguise and is just laughing at the fact cackle after cackle. Taking a lesson from Tanuchis, Vaidya turns to stone as if Miles might just forget he’s there.

Not that it’s working. Every time Miles calms down enough to glance at Vaidya, he breaks down into even more giggles. “Ya-” he starts before choking on his laughter again. “Ya don’t have ta look so shocked! Ye ain’t exactly a master of disguise there!”

After more laughter, Miles calms down enough to clear his throat with a sip of tea. “Let’s try this again.” Taking an audible breath, he looks into Vaidya’s eyes with a warm smile. 

“Welcome home, Vaidya. Ye’ve gotten taller.”

The motion of doing the dishes alongside Miles—Vaidya thinks—is alarmingly blase. It’s like turning into a postknight really was just a dream, and here he is: back home. If Miles tried, Vaidya thinks he really could trick him into thinking that he never left.

Miles hums an old folk song as he runs the plates and cups through water, a little out of tune, but Vaidya doesn’t mind. It’s how he always hummed it. Each plate drips water when Miles hands it to Vaidya, and shines when they’re added to the stack of clean dishes.

When the song finishes, Miles doesn’t smoothly segue into another. “Having ya back here makes the dishes easier to handle.” Miles laughs as if that’s the most pressing consequence of Vaidya's departure.

Vaidya sighs. He’s well resigned into this awkward position by now. “Having another mouth adds to the workload though. Meals for two are always several degrees more complicated than meals for one, afterall.” 

“And what about meals for three?” Miles asks, eyebrows turned upwards. The question of the other alchemist sibling hangs in the air.

But even then, Vaidya doesn’t bite. “After cooking for two people, adding more is usually less complicated. But three gives an uneven workload for dishwashing.” Maggie’s usually the one to sit out when she, Vaidya and Tina share a meal. As it turns out, maintaining wares is an entirely different task from selling them.

“True, but company’s always nice ain’t it?” For a moment, Vaidya feels shorter. Their heights might be equal now, but even now does Miles carry a certain confidence in himself. It’s the same weight that made him the boss of the lumberjacks even though he’s ‘just a gardener.’

Speaking of gardening. “The flower arrangements,” I’ve never seen them before. Did you find yourself a new judge? That wreath with the orange and purple meshes poorly. They’re clashing too aggressively and the long thin purple ones cleanly overpower the short, tiny orange ones. “They’re new.”

Miles looks at Vaidya weirdly for a second, and it passes away the next. He takes the cloth out of Vaidya’s hands to dry his own. “Naturally,” Miles chuckles. “Need to keep myself busy afterall. Judge or no judge.”

“Naina doesn’t make time?” Vaidya thought Miles would’ve been able to drag her out now that ‘Herbs By Naina’ is published. A complete herb Almanac is far from an insignificant amount of work, and Naina’s is beyond prolific. 

“Nope. Yer sister's something else.” Miles laughs with an undertone Vaidya can’t quite place. He leads Vaidya to the oversized dining table and offers him a seat. When Vaidya accepts, Miles pulls out the chair to Vaidya’s right and plants himself in the seat, wrapping his arm around Vaidya in a squeeze. Friendly but firm. “She’s keeping busy. Haven’t ya read her letters?”

Vaidya hesitates. He turns his eyes away as much as Miles’ grip allows. He feels the pressure from the gardener’s grip tighten and loosen. Or maybe that’s the rising and falling of Vaidya’s body, pushing against Miles’ hand with every breath. Thumping drums beat against the back of Vaidya’s head. 

It’s impossible to say that he’s been leaving his sister’s letters unopened. At the same time, Vaidya would like to say that he’s anything but a liar, but being fully honest right here is just so fully beyond him. It drives something cold and sharp through his throat and down into his lungs. So instead they settle into an awkward silence—or rather Vaidya creates one.

And Vaidya has to say, the hand on his shoulder is not helping the awkwardness. Nor does Miles’ expecting gaze, but his grip gives the question a sense of urgency.

Already Vaidya can imagine the handful of directions this discussion can take. Miles has him in his grasp, and he’s not willing to risk whatever goodwill he has left to run out—tempting as it is. Instead, he lets his eyes glaze over as he focuses on his breathing. His gaze doesn’t really focus on any of the decorum, and he takes special care to avoid the gardener to his side.

The image of Miles’ stern face manifests behind his eyelids. It’s the same expression as when Miles kicks the siblings out of their study to get fresh air but sharper—narrower eyes, harsher grimace, the works. Or that face the day Vaidya left; he was all smiles until Vaidya mentioned his leave, then it snowballed from there. He'll be upset—but not in one of those arbitrary takes of offence—just plainly worried.

And Vaidya really just can’t stand that.

It’d be easier if it was just Vaidya missing a meal. All it takes is following Miles’ lead and taking a supplementary snack. Or even when Vaidya declared that he would become a postknight, he stormed off with almost no hesitation.

But even then, Vaidya knows about whatever speech Miles will have about how hurt Naina is, how the siblings should reconnect, how important it is that they talk. And he can’t just shake it off with a walkout like the conversation about his career choice because–

Because he agrees, simply and wholeheartedly. And that more than anything else is why the silence makes the pressure in Vaidya’s chest blow. Knowing Miles is right, but still doing the obviously wrong thing.

And he hasn’t even said anything yet.

…

“I… haven’t.” Vaidya finally admits with his hands clenched over his knees. He counts the flower petals engraved in Miles’ dining table. Breaking the silence makes the weird cracks in Vaidya’s voice stick out in the worst ways but he doesn’t find it in himself to cringe.

The arm wrapped around Vaidya’s shoulder is lifted. To his side, Vaidya hears the crackle of a flame and the drawn out breath of Miles inhaling smoke. “That’s about what I thought.” He sighs. “Sorry about the whole, dodgy way I led ta this. Didn’t know how ta start.” Miles’ tone is low and oddly vulnerable, entirely dissolved of his usual confidence. Unfamiliar.

Vaidya doesn’t know how to feel about that, and Miles continues before Vaidya can think about it. “Ye don’t need me ta give you the whole spiel about how yer sister’s feeling about it. I’m sure ye can imagine.” 

And Vaidya nods. His brain might drone on about various tangents and conspiracies about what Naina actually thinks about him, but Vaidya knows one thing, the radio silence can only hurt. And there are plenty of unread letters where that came from.

“I’m sure that there’s not much I have to say that ya don’t know, actually. She’s yer sister afterall.” Miles admits with that same unfamiliar tone. Offhandedly Vaidya wonders if his exit months ago left an impression. He didn’t want it to get this bad.

Vaidya clears his throat, quietly as he can. Despite the attempt, Miles still gives Vaidya pause to let him speak. The pause is too long to be comfortable as Vaidya gathers his words. “Well… you’ve talked to her, for one.” And that’s more than what Vaidya can claim to.

Miles answers in a shrug. “True. True.” He admits, still in that unfamiliar tone. “If ya need to know, we actually had an argument about ya a while back.” When Vaidya’s grip on his thighs slips in surprise, Miles catches his head from hitting the tabletop. “Nothing big! Nothing big!” He reassures. “Ya know how she gets sometimes.” Vaidya gently gnaws on the edge of his lip. He does know. 

Most of the time, his sister is free floating. Naina is never passionate about the particulars. She might be unequalled in her broad sweep of deep herbal knowledge, but she's never invested. For all the interest the Aldor Scholars have in studying the poison of bushworms, to Naina it’s just a cute project. Even her book—one that put her name all over Kurestal—was a tiny side project that slowly grew out of whatever she was doing that day and the encouragement of their parents.

Once in a while though—as he and Miles have learnt—Naina sets down her foot. Hard. It’s like a cute fluffy white cloud suddenly striking the ground below with twenty thousand volts in the time it takes to blink. It’s probably a blessing—Vaidya thinks—that these jolts only appear on the most mundane of topics, the sort that can only come up within family. Things like the best evercherries to eat straight, or the granularity of Miles’ recipes when he’s not around to cook, or the precise arrangement of her equipment down to singular degrees of skew.

And, according to Miles, Vaidya.

“The lass talked ta me about how ya weren’t replying to her letters. After the last time we talked, I thought it’d be better ta let ya take yer time.” Vaidya just looks down at his crossed arms. Off-handedly, he kneads the soft part of his arm with a hand, grabbing and pinching just enough to sting. Miles, just shrugs. “She disagreed.”

Looking down, Vaidya mumbles out an apology about that day he left. Miles stops for a second, eyebrows slightly raised. Then he lets out a drawn-out sigh with his mouth curved upwards. Miles’ arm finds its way to Vaidya’s shoulder once more. “I’m real relieved, actually.” He says, sinking into his seat. “To tell the truth, I was real nervous. Was worried you were holding it against me."

No, never, Vaidya thinks. It feels almost absurd to hold Miles’ responsible for Vaidya’s reaction. Vaidya’s inner rejections aside, Miles continues. “It ain’t the most outlandish thing really. I was just getting too involved.” Miles shrugs casually. “I can do my own thinking too. It ain’t right fer me ta’ decide yer job for ya. So I’m sorry. Got caught up with trying to lock ya in Violetfair before caring about your own dreams.”

A knot that was held tightly in Vaidya’s chest loosens, leaving a hollow burning sort of sensation. Like pulling off a band-aid with the cold air prickling fresh skin. Still though. “I can’t accept this.” Vaidya says plainly, and the hand on his shoulder stiffens for just a moment. “You were just looking out for me. It wasn’t right of me to react so harshly.”

“I just said it ain’t right of me to get too involved didn’t I?” Miles laughs, relaxing his grip once more. “We can go on and on about who’s ta blame, but it dun’ really matter. The both a’ us walking into that conversation the wrong way, and we got into a spat. So what? What’s the harm?” With his leg, Miles drags Vaidya’s chair closer so he can give Vaidya a half-hug. “Details like blame are only gonna get in the way. We oughtta just appreciate a good thing like wanting ta reconnect.”

It’s so blase. So Miles. Almost kind of careless about the incident. But that’s what let’s Vaidya sink into Miles’ embrace, like he’s the same kid that got lost picking herbs from way back. Miles always knows the trail. Vaidya just hums in a stifled acknowledgement, whatever Miles interprets it as will be good enough.

Gently, Miles breaks off the embrace with a grin. “See? Ain’t that so much better?” And he’s right, a warmth spreads through Vaidya’s body, lingering from the contact. “As a sign of our newfound understanding, I won’t even ask ya about the letters.” Vaidya’s body jerks slightly, like his body itself rejects the idea, but Miles just scoffs. “If yer offering, then explain away.” He spreads out his arms like he’s challenging Vaidya to hit him (though with Vaidya’s training, it would probably be far less one-sided than days past).

Vaidya opens his mouth.

Then he closes it.

Miles gives Vaidya a knowing smile. “Take yer time with it. Can’t stress over details you don’t even know. Naina’ll be waiting for ya.” Rising from the seat, Miles offers Vaidya a hand. “Now, why don’t ya help me with those flowers while yer still here?”

“What gave my disguise away anyway?” Vaidya asks, hunched over a crate of Crystal Larkspurs, untying each bundle, and handing them off to Miles.

With a practised flourish, Miles accepts the flowers and plants them into a once-empty planter box. “Well… Unless it’s in style fer outsiders, that white streak in yer hair ain’t something all that common.” He makes a circle with his finger just above his forehead. ”Not ta mention that while some folks bite their lip, no one gnaws on it the same way you do.”

Makes sense to Vaidya. He returns a nod as he passes another handful of flowers.

Miles accepts these ones as well, but he pauses to look into the crate. He sighs in disappointment. “Guess most of these’ll be fertiliser, eh? What a shame.” Nonetheless, he continues the task of finding all the Crystal Larkspurs a home—a task doomed to fail from the start really. “Reminds me actually. Would ya happen to be the shady silver-haired lass that Asteria an’ Katrina asked about? Girls knocked on my door before I came over to Otto’s. Seemed pretty interested in whoever they were talking about.”

Vaidya’s body freezes for a second, just to let his mind keep pace. He undoes another knot. “That’d be me. I met them while watching Otto’s shop.”

“Maybe being a merchant’s yer style.” Miles laughs. “Ya left a good impression anyhow. Glad my intuition was right. Would be real embarrassing if I had to correct myself later.”

Vaidya joins his laughter. “I’d be more surprised if you got it wrong, actually.” That’s part of why he directed them to Miles anyway. Miles doesn’t miss these things.

“Then I’m even more glad I was right!” Miles guffaws, after a pause, he asks. “Say, ye wouldn’t happen to have space fer some flowers back in Maille, would ya? Might as well take home a souvenir. Yer more than suited to handling a few plants anyhow.”

“Only one bundle. if you would.” Vaidya answers. He really wants to laugh right now, but Miles wouldn’t catch onto the humour of Vaidya accepting another bouquet. “Would you happen to have any pots spare?” Vaidya was planning to get some anyway. Might as well get a professional.

“Keep ‘em in water fer a few days” Miles orders casually. “I’ll make sure a pot gets to ya.”

Vaidya pushes a bit further. “Could you send a few actually? I’ve been making a collection of my own.”

Miles pauses in thought for a moment, and takes a puff of smoke. After the pause, he breaks into a smile. “Even better. I had some spare. Wreaths are more my style anyway. Did you want me to send some seeds too?”

“Just the Crystal Larkspurs will do.” Vaidya says, gesturing to the crates. “I’ve been getting flowers from elsewhere.”

“Ha!” Miles exclaims, grin wide and fist clenched to his chest dramatically. “Look at our Vaidya taking after me! I knew ya had a gardener’s soul in ya! That’s why I had ya judge the wreaths!”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” In spite of his words, Miles’ cheer still pulls a smile out of him. “They happen to be a common gift. It would be a shame if I let them wilt.” It’s a half lie. Tina and Maggie are free to poke fun at the odd chain of gifts, but he might as well take a page out of Pearl’s and Miles’ book. No point in justifying them, so he might as well be ready for the next batch. “You said it yourself, Miles. Building trust and caring for flowers are one and the same.”

Miles almost looks shocked for a second, like he didn’t even remember saying it to Vaidya. But he smiles warmly nonetheless. “You’ve grown.”

“Not enough though.” Vaidya answers smoothly. Inside though, his heart’s soaring, blasting through layers and layers of clouds, gliding over plains and forests and hills to shake off every ounce of relief and joy. For once, that awkward, fumbly, reluctant, avoidance he has towards thinking of Naina doesn’t even compare.

“You’ll get there though.” Miles says in his authoritative ‘boss’ voice. “Now, it’s about time I sent ya on yer way. Unless yer willing ta stay the night now?” The tail end of his offer sticks out with an inviting smirk. 

Vaidya sighs. “Best I be on my way soon. Thank you for the offer.”

“Guess I’ll have to keep this a secret from Naina eh?” Miles sighs, bemused. “I’ll get yer flowers wrapped. Write back sometime. If not to yer sister, then give the old gardener here some of yer time.” He says, disappearing behind the door.

To pass the time, Vaidya rests his elbows on a planter box, watching the Crystal Larkspurs sway in the subtle evening breeze. The blue and purple blooms twinkle like a field of stars. They suit someone unique as Otto, Vaidya thinks. Once, Vaidya asked him about what he dreams about—a question answered with shocking lucidity, especially considering who it was being asked to. Vaidya’s own dreams are hardly so memorable, only leaving behind vague feelings of whatever emotions trailed behind.

Simply ‘being different’ is an odd metric, but Violetfair’s merchant is certainly like no other. Though, if Vaidya had to choose any one person to describe as ‘brilliant…’

Well. Anyone besides his sister would be undercutting, wouldn’t it?

The knots, the tugging, the tension all feel so much more relaxed now, but Vaidya’s still affected by them like the ghost pain of a lost limb. Gone, but there’s still a trace that never really gets shaken off. Whatever the talk with Miles did, Vaidya’s still… hesitant about the topic of his sister. But his head never felt so clear, it’s like he’s seeing through a clear window after a lifetime of foggy mist.

It’s just… he doesn’t know where to start. The skies of his mind are cloudless, but all he can do is lie on his back and stare at it. That feeling is nothing like the inferiority or jealousy or hatred that so many people have referenced. If it was that, there’d be some burning spark gobbling Vaidya up until all that’s left is a gloomy shell spouting awkward passivities as he stumbles through his work. 

Instead, whatever Vaidya’s feeling is this weird throb. It doesn’t grow until it eats away at everything he does. It just stays, like an emotional mole, a break in his psyche that happened to be where Naina lays. If he avoids the topic, he’ll just move on like nothing else, going back to watering the flowers, or chatting with his friends. The throb hardly shows up most of the time too, but for some reason flowers put him in the mood to spout conclusion-less soap philosophies which always turn back to ponder over his sister or his job.

It’s… not really any specific feeling. It’s like, one day thinking about his sister just… hurt, and then he left Violetfair. But Vaidya didn’t even bother figuring out the reason why. Took the pain for what it was, and just skipped town without a single thought, much less a second thought.

There’s something Vaidya’s missing. Probably. You don’t live with someone your entire life, and it then suddenly becomes unbearable out of nowhere. If it was that easy, every single friendship Vaidya ever made would be ropes over a shower of sparks. And Vaidya doesn’t think it’s an overstatement to consider himself stable, especially adjacent to Maggie and Tina—a trio of very distracted postknights.

Which can only mean something grew then. Quietly, without Vaidya ever noticing until the hard thorns prickled at his throat and wrapped around his heart whenever he even dared glance at Naina. 

The door opens, and Miles procures a brilliant blue and purple bouquet wrapped in similarly purple paper. “That should be it then.” He says. “I take it yer off?”

Vaidya nods. “I’ll write to you.” A spark of mischief hits Vaidya just before he says his farewells. “Before I go though, may I ask a favour?”

“Still this formal? We gotta break you out of some habits next time.” Miles shakes his head with a fond gaze, like he’s chuckling at some roughhousing boys covered in mud instead of… Vaidya. “Ask away. For you, anything” He says with a wink.

“If you ever succeed in courting my sister, please wait until my business with her is finished before you marry her.”

It was worth visiting Violetfair, Vaidya thinks as he strolls out of Miles’ inn and down the road. Well, it’s more like a sort of half-skip. He hops on his right leg, lands on the left, and swings his right leg forward to hop again as he hums to the tune of an old Violetfair song. There’s a cozy hollow sort of feeling in his chest, like the ache when he cools down from a training session.

Vaidya supposes he owes Hector some thanks. Maybe he’ll get something for him, a drink maybe. It’ll let Vaidya stretch out his newfound cooking prowess too. 

The way Vaidya revisited Violetfair is a bit odd, he supposes. It’s like he walked in and swiped through all the things he remembers, from Miles’ magnificent garden to the relaxed steps he takes while gathering fallen evercherries. A rapidfire flashbang of memories that took hold of him.

There’s a little bit of guilt seeded in his chest for being maybe too laissez-faire about the whole ordeal. Like he’s taken the sweetest, juiciest memories out of a basket and leaving the lesser ones to waste. But Vaidya doesn’t trust himself to chew into the sour overripe pieces of his past that trail around his head day by day. He might as well trust Miles’ judgement to not think too hard. Pearl’s judgement too, now that he thinks about it.

He sees his house and stops in his tracks.

Well, not his house anymore really. He hasn’t lived there for the past while, and doesn’t plan to change that anytime soon. And saying his family’s house would imply a certain presence that his and Naina’s parents simply don’t have. So really, the best way to put it now is Naina’s house.

It’s a cute little affair. He supposes that if Silas’ home is ‘bottle-shaped,’ then Naina’s house suffices as ‘pot-shaped.’ And to match that comparison, you could easily say that Naina’s house is a giant pot the same way Silas’ is a giant bottle. Bright blue flowers make their home spouting from the lips of the jug made out of the same petrified wood as every other building in Violetfair.

Naturally, his sister is nowhere to be seen in the moonless night of Violetfair. Even if the town’s relatively well lit by the dusty specks of the Everwood’s magic, people need to sleep; geniuses included. And Naina for one is remarkably dedicated to her own schedule—at least last Vaidya checked.

The thorns spring up again, not harshly, but they tug at him, encouraging him to walk past. It’d be easy to be pulled along with their will. Take a few steps and walk out the town. But his sister deserves a little more than that, especially from him. Even if it’ll take him many months more to work through his feelings, and deal with the anxiety of appearing out of the blue. While he’s still in town there’s still something that he can do without overstepping the bubble he’s made for himself.

He crouches down before the door, and lays a single purple crystal larkspur on the ground. A quiet gesture, one that’ll go unnoticed by his airheaded sister. But it’s enough for him.

As Vaidya walks out of town with the magic of the everwood dancing in the air like fairies, a simple thought pervades.

Today was a good day.

Chapter Text

The first thing that greets Naina when she opens her front door is a single purple flower.

Kneeling before it, she can see two slight creases along its stem, both a pinch wider than the tips of her fingers. Though slight, the creases provide just enough adhesion that there’s the faintest stripping sound of the flower getting unstuck from the pale-white petrified wood of her doorstep. Two ghostlike green—almost completely transparent—stains are left in its wake. A lonely flower for sure, but deliberately placed.

Offhandedly, she realises how odd it is for her to notice the flower at all. If someone told her that one such flower had been laid out on her doorstep every day for the past few months, she’d find herself short of a rebuttal. On the contrary, such a small detail is absolutely the kind of thing she’d miss, miss again, and then again, until Miles finally bursts out laughing from the woodwork and explains its presence and meaning. 

Or, more preferably, her brother.

Not that the latter’s an option, anymore. 

Rising, she holds the flower up in the air, studying it as if the two creases are part of some larger message. If she tilts it in the morning light that leaks through the Everwood’s canopy, there’s the slightest twinkle, as if the flower were made of crystal. Its creases aside, the flower’s untouched; just a perfectly pleasant blossom with a richer purple sheen than her own robes.

Usually, if Naina were to receive such a gift, Miles would stroll right through the front door with a platter of biscuits in one hand, and a bouquet of his latest project in another. Or a postknight would stroll right up to her with a gift—or sometimes a copy of her own book to be sent back signed. 

In comparison, this single flower is very polite, unreasonably so. It’s like the sender thought it’d be too rude, too obtrusive, to even consider making themself the slightest bit more obvious. 

It’s pure luck that Naina noticed it. Which is probably why she was charmed enough to pull it to her hair, nestled beside her usual magenta flower and snug enough that the morning breeze wouldn’t carry it away. There’s no mirror to make sure it’s tastefully stylish—well, there is. But her bedroom’s an entire two doors, eighteen floorboards, and a dozen stair steps away, and her heart couldn’t stand it if her routine was somehow broken, mysterious flower or otherwise.

So there this new flower rests, right next to her usual magenta flower. Tastefully? Probably. But maybe it’s fastened just a little bit too tight...

“Usual magenta flower” is a bit of a dry descriptor, frustratingly vague even. It’s a flower that charmed her when Miles first started gifting bouquets; she knows for a fact she asked for its name, but somehow it always slipped her mind. If Violetfair’s gardener had been anyone but Miles, Naina thinks they’d have gotten sick of the routine a long time ago. All this gardener has on offer is a hearty laugh, a smile, and the same answer she always forgets.

She should probably ask about that flower when Miles visits—both flowers, actually. Speaking of the new flower, it does feel just a little bit too tight. Maybe Naina should adjust it a bit, or take it off entirely.

But the flower was just too polite! It’d be rude to take it off. Maybe. It’s not like Miles’ regular delivery of bouquets where the novelty comes from which set of colours he chooses to bombard her with that week. And speaking of Miles, she was supposed to restock on salves for the lumberjacks today.

… Right?

It was so much easier to check her agenda when her brother still lived here; Naina thinks, two doors, eighteen floorboards, and a dozen stair steps later.

On the bright side, her memory was right. Before she keeps playing with the bushworms specimens, she’s supposed to throw together some more healing salves. For the afternoon, the nice people from Aldor have a report about the live bushworm specimen she had delivered, or they should. They said they should have the report by now the last time she got a letter from them anyhow, but Aldor’s a long ways away, the Postknight delivering it might come in tomorrow instead.

As she walks back down the dozen stairs, she can’t shake the feeling that her flower is tied tighter than usual. But she doesn’t give the thought too much attention as she makes her way to the kitchen.

Her house is… far too big for one. Don’t get her wrong, when her brother still lived here it was also far too big for two. There are entire unused bedrooms to attest to that as well. That said, it just seemed… manageable as long as her brother was there. There was no need to worry about the vast excess of unused space with Vaidya there to fill in some of the space with her.

Now there’s just… space. So much space. 

It’s kind of stuffy actually, which is weird, there’s one less person in the house, but that’s what it is. Stuffy. Like now that there’s even less people and more space, it’s somehow rude of her to shift the air with the thin layer of dust that clouds up with her footsteps. Maybe that’s it. Dead air’s taken over her household, and the only thing she can do about it is stand outside the doorstep running her usual experiments.

Which she does. Of course she does! There’s no reason for her to spite dead air, and even less of one to ruin her routine because of it! It can have her house, so long as she can sleep, store herbs, and occasionally eat there. And if it doesn’t mind a cleaning on the odd day Miles stops by. Or even days. Sometimes both. 

In the meantime, as it so pleases Naina, she will happily start her morning with the fire of her cauldron and prepare those salves Miles ordered. It’s a simple enough procedure anyway, easy enough for her to stretch out her fingers, get the fire started, and start washing the sage leaves.

As a job like hers goes, the highlands are probably the best place Naina could work. With all the magic the Everwood lets out into the area, there isn’t much doubt that the local flora are the most unique in the country (in both colour and effects). It was no accident that her parents took care to raise her and her brother here. 

A decision that‘s at least half-fruitful considering Naina’s stature. Maybe a full fruit if Vaidya stops being so rebellious (as was oh-so gently put by their parents).

Before the pot reaches a boil, Naina’s already scrubbed the sage leaves clean. Sage is such a lovely, convenient herb. As she’s heard, it grows anywhere, certainly Maille and Pompon, but here it’s tragically overshadowed!

Of course, every herb plays its own roles, but in Violetfair, competition is steep. The magic of the Everwood grants life to all that grows under it, including all sorts of peculiar herbs. The Everwood’s own evercherries especially take the spotlight as a go-to energy source. Shame it’s only any good ingested.

In comes sage—a sample of which is currently being torn leaf-by-leaf with Naina’s own hands. A sturdy little plant perfect for salves, with regional variations to boot! This cute little paper Naina read the other day wrote about how sage’s properties, particularly their thickness, changes by region. The cool shade of the Everwood and the magic that gives a unique vitality to everything should be more than enough to ensure the loveliest salves for Miles’ lumberjacks.

Most every herb with healing properties will agitate one’s throat, so non-oral treatments are always sought for. It’s been some time since she worked with sage, and her brother’s recent article made the perfect excuse to try it. Besides, sage makes a good base for a salve. Especially if the resulting fluid is just sticky enough that if it won't flow all the way down the cut arms and legs that it’s meant to be treating. It’s not much work. As long as the fire’s not too well-fed and the sage leaves aren’t overcooked, all is well.

Sometimes one of those Aldor scholars, or some friendly alchemist asking for her signature, or even her parents will ask why she still does the “boring work.” It’s not an easy question to answer. Well to start, it’s actually a notion that Naina can’t find herself following.

So she’ll ask them what they mean, and the answer’s always the same. That she ought to do more important work. After all, isn’t she only slowed down by having to do all the herb prep? Not to mention there’s an endless line of newbie (and veteran) alchemists that would crawl over each other for even the chance to do the prep work for her.

Nana just can’t empathise really.

She really tried to go all the way too! With her brother out relishing his “rebellious phase,” their parents finally forced an intern onto Naina. When that partnership didn’t set sail, the next intern was swapped in ad infinitum. 

Each and every one of those helpers were so sweet too! They’d boil tea, offer to gather herbs, buy some snacks out of pocket, watch the fire, sweep the floors, the whole nine yards. Naina’s shocked that so many kind people were willing to come to Violetfair to work with her.

But the tea was too sweet, the herbs were underripe, the furnishings were no longer in perfect order after sweeping, she was never hungry for the snacks, and the fire was always over or underfed. And she was probably too ungrateful whenever she mentioned these things, and it probably made her unbearable to everyone who came under her wing.

Point is, Naina doesn’t work very well with other people. She handles mail correspondence just fine though. Working with the Aldor Scholars is always a pleasure because of that.

So that leaves her here, patiently letting the sage leaves heat over a perfectly fed fire. Once the leaves lose their firmness and become slightly yellow, she sets them to the side. A fresh scent, like moist soil and grass, permeates the air as Naina gives the mixture a quick stir. Tapping her spoon on the edge of the cauldron, she sets it aside.

Normally by this stage, her brother would have finished procuring a mixture of herbs that go nicely in salves—usually ceruleaf works topically, but her brother likes taking full advantage of the selection their parents send them. 

Now that it’s just her, Naina heads inside to open the pantry door with a creak.

“Pantry” is a word that serves this room functionally. It’s a dry, slightly cool place to store herbs—on the dark side too, since most herbs don’t need any sun-drying. Unlike Miles’ pantry that is just a shelved hole in his kitchen wall with a door, Naina's pantry stretches on almost like a corridor. The walls are lined with drawers, each containing a different herb, and there’s a long table cutting through the centre where she can work on the herbs. Naina lights a candle on the centre of the table.

Since her brother’s leave, this step was always the hardest. Not in a mechanical way. It’s easy enough to chop ceruleaf, mince kuroot, and do whatever to the herbs that her parents ship in from wherever until the resulting juice can undo a scar. The salve is for cuts and bruises, not for burns, so in her head, a hand behind her eyes brushes over the cabinets that matter with fluorescent paint.

The problem’s more just… using everything? Even though there are so many combinations of herbs that can go together in so many ways to do the exact same thing; it all comes up blank. Like mixing together all sorts of bright reds and blues and yellows and greens into a dark, pukish, brown.

It’s not as if the colour would change the healing applications. The interactions between herbs that would turn two medicines into a poison are far and few between—her book even covers all of the interactions between all the herbs in this pantry, there are no wrong choices. Or there are supposed to be, but working restlessly only to pour out a brownish sludge with a too-thick odour really puts a damper in her mood. 

She can’t imagine the lumberjacks would enjoy it all that much either.

Between stirs of the salve base, a faint thumping can be heard from the house—whichever selection her brother chose for today needed the mortar and pestle. Meanwhile, Naina watches a simple potion base of Mycena lumera bubble over with a pale violent tint.

Offhandedly Naina wonder’s what the selection for this batch is. She was given a particularly nice selection of herbs from the Valley of Gold—the other side of Kurestal as it turns out. The selection Naina received from her parents is apparently what is typically used in that mountainous region: A mix of mosses, fungi, and unbloomed flowers that happened to be hardy enough to survive the rocky terrain.

The wondering never really gets Naina anywhere despite her aptitude for alchemy. It’s not like when Naina decides to find cures for whatever sicknesses the changing seasons bring, nor is it like when someone is hurt, and then needs the right potion to fix sprains, close cuts, quell bruises, or otherwise set them straight. Those are answers, and she’s good at those.

As she stirs the potion base of Mycena lumera, she spoons out a couple discoloured shrooms and spreads them out on a table to dry. Even though some of the flavour’s been diluted from making the potion base, Miles has made it very clear that the shrooms are still very good for cooking; and, diluted or not, Naina would be hard-pressed not to accept Miles’ mushroom masala whenever he’s is in a good enough mood to make it.

What she’s not good at is when she “just” has to prepare “a bunch” of “medicine stuff” for the lumberjacks “in case something happens.” It used to put her in a bad mood. Back in the days when her parents were out, and she was left to her devices, a cauldron, and a pantry of herbs.

Not much has changed really, save for her darling little brother, on cue with a yellowish-blue paste that turns green in some parts. A sharp cool scent that cuts into her nostrils is identified as wintermint, and the glowing yellow bits reveal what is likely to be glowbud. 

She brushes her brother’s shoulder-length hair with a hand, and all is well.

Carrying a freshly pounded paste of Glowbud and Wintermint back to the pot of sage extract, Naina can’t help but feel like she’s cheating by stealing Vaidya’s recipe. That said, compared to her brother Naina is much more generous with her wintermint usage, and to good effect; the scent will probably linger for weeks on end, but for now, in this one concentrated burst, it’s pleasant and Naina’s breathing feels calmer than when she first entered the pantry.

That said, Naina takes care to shut the pantry door properly—afterall, it wouldn’t do for the kitchen to be invaded by the myriad scents of the pantry. Pleasant as it is, if it invaded each and every one of her breaths she might just throw up. 

Naina makes thirty-one short hurried steps out the door to dump the newly-acquired mix of Glowbud and Wintermint into the cauldron. As she stirs she hums a tune. Not of any particular song, rather, mindlessly chains notes together into something that almost resembles a song.

It’s out of character for the researcher, but Naina isn’t very good at waiting. Usually this step of the process is supplemented with small talk—before with her brother, later with the intern of the week. But now Naina’s learning to fill in the quiet on her lonesome.

Learning’s a strong word really. Adjusting might be where she’s at. Fitting her routine to suit the world as it is. What stays the same between this world and that one before is the bubbling of liquid filling in her ears.

Still humming, Naina looks down the road that goes past her family’s home. Seeing nothing, she steps back from the cauldron. Naina glances downward and walks. Her steps trace along imprints in the peachy blades of grass.

Naina never strays too far from her station. Rather, it’s more accurate to say that the imprints never lead her more than a few steps away from her station. They weren’t always there either, remnants of time spent waiting that didn’t exist with her brother around.

A weird sort of routine spawned from that, though she only does it when no one passes by her home. When someone does show up, she scurries back like she was standing there the whole time. Naina knows the looks people give her for pacing are curious more than criticising, but she can’t say it makes those looks feel much better.

She looks up and down the path before her family’s home. Though she’s not particularly expectant, there is a someone who approaches from further down the path.

For this someone, she scurries towards him instead of back to the station. “Hello Miles.” Naina bows with a smile.

When Naina bows, Miles stares at Naina’s head for a beat before replying. “Mornin’ Naina. It’s not like ya to switch up yer style is it?” Naina notices a beat of silence where Miles would add one more quip to his question.

More importantly, Naina has no clue what Miles is talking about. At his quip, Naina pats herself down, twisting around to find whatever Miles noticed, which garners a laugh from him. 

Naina can see Miles reach out to her head, but he stops when Naina notices. Instead drawing back his hand and tapping his forehead. “Different flower.” He glances sideways, a little redder.

Reaching for her hair, Naina pulls out the purple flower that was left on her doorstep and looks at it with a tiny gasp of realization. “Oh yes! I’ve been meaning to ask you about this flower, Miles. Did you leave it on my doorstep this morning?” It’s a very Miles-like thing to do afterall, just look at the flower he piled on the stairs!

“Me? Nah, I was wrapped up in a surprise shipment a’ flowers the other evening. If that flower right there was left on yer doorstep, ah’ would say it’s probably from V-“ 

Miles suddenly keels over and breaks into a coughing fit. 

At the coughs, Naina pauses for a moment, not in thought, just to readjust to the sudden shift in the conversation, or sudden end, if you’d rather. Once she adjusts, it’s like clockwork.

Naina wraps Miles’ arm over her shoulder and starts guiding him to her station. “Are you okay Miles?” 

Given the chance, Miles pulls himself from Naina’s grasp. He clears his throat. “Ah’m fine.” He gets out a few last coughs. “Somethin’ got caught in ma throat. That’s all.”

Unrelenting, Naina tightens her grip and continues pulling Miles by the arm. “Let’s get you seated first. I’m still reducing the salve, so it should still have a drinkable consistency.“

At that, Miles starts pulling back against Naina’s grip. “Really now, ain’t ya overreacting?” Despite his resistance, he follows her with his cheeks dusted red. “I ain’t gonna run off anyhow.” He adds lightly.

Blind to Miles’ reaction, Naina pushes him towards a chair and Miles lands on the seat before the momentum topples him—and the chair—over. Not missing a beat, Naina takes the ladle, scoops some of the seafoam green brew into a cup before promptly shoving it into Miles’ hands. She sits in the opposing chair expectantly.

In a practiced sigh, Miles brings the cup up to his nose and cautiously wafts the fumes, or what are usually fumes. One breath in, and he’s suddenly much less reluctant. When he looks down at the contents of the cup, he visibly brightens. “Now ain’t this somethin’ new. I haven’t seen anything like this since yer brother was around.” He remarks before raising the cup to his lips.

And his coughing exacerbates.

Which shouldn’t be happening, mind you! Wintermint is considered quite refreshing, and Naina agrees with that judgement too! So it generally shouldn’t agitate the throat, rather, it should bring a little bit of the cool Aldor air into your breath! Which is why it pairs nicely with drinks and toothpaste in small do-

Ah.

After some more coughing, Miles gasps out a “water? If ye’d please?” And Naina rushes to her stand to grab of the pitcher of water her brother usually leaves o-

Oh.

Naina spins around a hundred eighty degrees with small steps and heads straight indoors to her house. Eight floorboards forward and sixteen to the left, is the kitchen, and in the corner is a barrel of water.

Unlike the filled pitcher that would normally be outside because of her brother’s thoughtfulness, the barrel is regularly filled by a lumberjack Miles sends over. (Miles once tried doing it himself, but there’s a reason he’s a gardener instead of a lumberjack.) The last one to do it was on the younger side, Chris, she thinks?

But that’s besides the point, the barrel is filled, and Naina has a cup in her hand. All that’s left is to get water in the cup, go sixteen floorboards forward and eight floorboards right, walk out the door, and give it to Miles. Naina does just that, stopping in front of a no longer coughing, but moderately displeased Miles.

He accepts the water.

Miles drinks slowly, one mouthful at a time. He swishes each gulp of water around his mouth before swallowing and drinking another gulp. 

Naina fidgets.

Once the cup is emptied out, Miles sets it on the table. After one final gulp, he lets out a sigh. “Serves me right fer digging right in.” A smirk breaks through Miles' attempt at a poker face, and Naina is no longer holding her breath. “Think ya might’ve overdone the Wintermint a touch.”

Naina bows her head slightly. “I’m so sorry about that. I think the salve reduced more quickly than I expected.”

Miles just laughs. “No harm done! S’not like anything ye’d make would really kill me!”

At that Naina gives a little chuckle. Miles catches it and doubles down. “See? All’s well. Now, do ye remember where we left off?“ He leans back in his chair.

“We were talking about this flower.” Naina adjusts the flower on her head. “You said you were busy last evening. Who did you say it was? You started coughing before you said their name.”

“O-o-oh. That.” Miles sputters. “I lost track a’ what I was saying. Give me a sec.” He rests an elbow on his chair’s armrest, propping himself up in thought. 

For how easily the gardener was speaking earlier, Naina found it slightly odd that he’d forget so easily, but she disregards that doubt. “If you need a refresher, I believe their name started with a V?”

Just quietly enough that Naina doesn’t catch it, Miles lets out a sigh while looking down. He recovers quickly and lifts his head up, wagging his finger. “Probably got my tongue tied! I think I was sayin’ that one a’ the villagers here probably found some a’ the new flowers that fella Otto sent me.” He raises the cup of potion to his nose as if he were smelling roses. “I doubt ye were there, but it was a right mess down the road from ‘ere.” He points vaguely in the direction of Otto’s shop. “There are still petals caught in th’ grass if ya care t’ look.”

Though seeing as Naina hasn’t left the premises of her home today, she never had the chance to catch a look. Not that she’d pay enough attention to notice (she can’t even be bothered to sweep the flowers off the stairs leading up to her back door). Naina puts a hand up to her mouth and giggles. “Sounds like you were working overtime then.”

Miles leans back in his chair and groans. “As if there’s ever a day where the folks ‘round here don’t need me!” He sets down his cup forcefully, not quite slamming it on the table; all in good humour. “I ought to have shaken some of th’ boys awake ta help me out!”

For reasons Naina doesn’t understand, Miles always tries to come off as older than he is. He talks like a disgruntled grandparent and grows out his facial hair—even if a moustache and beard never quite comes into shape and only comes out in his goatee. Even before, when Vaidya grew into his first steps, Miles put himself up to the task of leading him. “Sounds like an awful lot of trouble. I don’t suppose that silly boy was awake to help you.” Naina giggles.

Miles looks at Naina’s face for a moment before retorting. “As if that fella’s scrawny arms would be that much of a help! Nah, that feller Adrian that pops around Otto’s place lent a hand.” When Naina looks slightly confused he just shrugs. “Ya ought ta get around more.”

Even Naina has to admit that missing an entire regular visitor might be a bit much. “I suppose I do.” She sheepishly replies.

“Anyways,” Miles continues without missing a beat. “Me, him, and th’ Postknight that delivered th’ flowers were at it all afternoon! The Folks up in Pompon sound real wasteful if ya ask me.” He shakes his head disapprovingly.

A mention of a Postknight catches Naina’s attention. “Er,” she hesitates. “Did you get the chance to ask if the postknight knew my brother?” When Miles freezes up, she backtracks. “Sorry, I know you probably had, bigger things to worry about.” She glances sideways, using the silence as a chance to take a seat.

With a groan, Miles scratches the back of his head. “Real sorry ‘bout that Naina!” He exclaims. “Didn’t get the chance to ask if he knew our boy.”

“It’s fine. It’s my fault for being overbearing anyway.” Naina forces out a laugh.

It’s probably true anyway. Since Violetfair opened itself up to outside deliveries, she’s found herself posing the question more than a few times. Thankfully, everyone she asked knew who she was asking about. Supposedly, her darling brother set himself down quite nicely as an alchemist for the Postknights!

Now if only the address the postknights gave her was right.

Miles sighs. “Sounds to me like there’s still no reply.” Naina only bites her lip in response. “Don’t stress too much over it. Maille might be we’re all th’ Postknights stay, but from what I hear it ain’t the rarest thing fer ‘em to stick it out for awhile.”

“They all say he handles potion infusions in Maille though.”

“Maybe the demand’s just that high eh?” Miles shift uncomfortably. “I hear our boy’s all they got in Maille, and those Postknights get themselves hurt all th’ time.”

A notion that’s not as comforting as Miles probably hoped it would be. Her brother’s a Postknight too, allegedly.

Miles gets up, takes the cup of mint scented not-quite-salve not-quite-potion, and dumps it back into the cauldron. With the ladle, he gives it a few stirs, before raising a spoonful, letting it dribble back into the cauldron. Naina‘s eyes blankly trail the gloopy little string of salve.

There’s nothing to add because they’ve both walked these same circles for months. Naina takes a breath. “The salve should be thick enough now, could you put out the fire?”

“And your wish is my command.” Miles heads into Naina’s home and comes out with a bucket of water. Thus the flame is slain. There are cracks and sizzles as steam rises from the firewood.

Naina straightens her back slightly and breathes in. “The salve should be cooled and ready for use in an hour or two.” She looks up at Miles from her seat. “You can come back then and it’ll be ready for the lumberjacks.”

Clicking his tongue, while tapping his ladle on the edge of the cauldron, Miles replies. “I think ye forgot what I’m here fer.” He sets the ladle to the side, walks towards Naina, and grabs her up by the shoulders. “I think yer overdue for a meal.” He pulls Naina up from her seat, spins her around, and pushes her into her home.

And without an ounce of resistance, Naina just goes with it. “Don’t you usually have biscuits ready?” Carefully, she steps over the door frame into the house.

“I had some baked yesterday, but ended up finishing ‘em all.” Miles says noncommittally, stepping into the dining room. “And don’t you ask that like yer bothered.” He plops Naina down into a chair. “Yer getting a fresh meal out of me. Any orders?”

Naina takes a moment to think before answering. “I have dehydrated Mycena lumera from the other day.” Naina points to a cabinet while Miles takes a bucket of water to wash his hands with.

“Here I was thinking that I’d have to choose th’ menu for ya.” Miles scrubs his hands in the bucket of water. “Find yerself in a craving?” To which Naina just giggles. “Sounds like it’s mushroom masala then. Extra spice?”

Naina smiles. “If you’d please.”

And off Miles goes shuffling through the kitchen cabinets like he owns the place. Personally, Naina finds the kitchen so much more effort than the lab, so she just stays seated and watches Miles move about. Offhandedly, she feels the urge to look around for her brother, as if he’d somehow stumble in, ask Miles if he can help, wash his hands, and get to work.

It’s a silly thing to do. She knows. Unfortunately, the creature of habit that she is can’t help herself.

Instead, she turns her head the other direction, and watches the leaves that drift down from the Everwood. There’s an energy—like an itch—that makes her twitch. Naina’s done the song and dance enough to know that if she gets up, Miles would drop whichever step of the process he’s in and sit her right down. It’s gotten worse lately. Or maybe Naina’s just that much more active than usual.

Naina’s leg shakes.

The sound of chopping echoes through the kitchen.

Naina raps her fingers on the dining table. “Before I forget, what was the flower’s name? The ones Otto sent you.”

“Those’re Crystal Larkspurs.” Miles scrapes chopped vegetables into a bowl without looking up, and then starts chopping again. “They’re meant to be fer the unique sorts, folks that are different from everyone else. Yer’s is purple, but the things come in purple and cyan.” He scrapes the rest of the vegetables from the chopping board into a bowl, then goes digging in the cabinets. “Suits ya, don't you think?”

Naina runs a finger through her hair. “I suppose so.” She responds placatingly.

“If ya ask me, those flowers are tricky t’ work with.” When the sound of Miles shuffling through cabinets stops, Naina hears a thumping sound of pestle crush spices. Miles shouts to overpower the thumping. “Plucked and put into bouquets or wreaths, the things are fine! Not too hard to mess ‘em up fer a display!” A pause. There's a scraping sound before the pounding resumes. “But raising ‘em in a garden complicates things! Cyan and purple don’t quite go well to begin with! And there’s no telling which larkspur will be which colour ‘til they bloom!”

Naina just hums in response, looking out the window to watch how far a couple leaves will fall. Not that Miles needs a response to keep talking over the sound of pounding spices.

“Growing ‘em always ends up coming off like a patch a’ wildflowers!” Miles says, indignant. “Too messy for my tastes as it were! Comes off in all sorts of spectrums!” The pounding stops. There’s the sound of stone on stone as something is scraped from a bowl. “A right shame too.” He sighs. “If the things weren’t so unpredictable they’d fit in quite nicely.”

It’s a bit extreme, Naina thinks. “You mentioned Otto sent you quite a lot. What do you plan to do with them?” Her leg keeps bouncing to a rhythm.

There’s a crack, and then the sweet smell of burning maplewood fills the room. “Most of ‘em are gonna end up as fertilizer.” There’s a pause that Naina imagines is a shrug. “That’s all there is to it really. I’ll leave a few to myself of course, but there’s not much I can do with that many.”

Naina thinks that’s a bit funny coming from the man who turned the entire town into his garden, but she won’t pretend to know how many flowers make “too many.”

Two light knocks bounce off the door. Naina’s attention snaps away from the leaf she was watching. Her leg doesn’t stop. Earlier in the year she might have jumped out of her seat, but she knows not to expect her brother at the doorstep by now.

Miles says nothing, content to focus on tossing the contents of his frying pan. After a pause backed by sizzling, two more knocks ring out from the door. For a moment, Miles stops to look back at Naina. “Could you get that? My hands ain’t exactly free.”

Blinking a few times, Naina tilts her head to the side. “So I’m allowed to get up?” Her leg still vibrates.

Another set of knocks. Miles holds back laughter to make sure he won’t spill the mushroom masala. “Sure, sure, just for today I’ll make an exception. Now get going,” he nods towards the door, “you have a guest waiting on ya.”

Naina slowly rises. Not because she’s reluctant to answer the door or something, she’s just checking that her leg stopped bouncing when she got up, which it did. Satisfied, she walks to the door and opens it up.

The opened door reveals a purple haired girl in a postknight uniform frozen with her hand up. The two make eye contact for a moment before the postknight jumps back. “For a second I thought no one was home.” She adjusts her beanie awkwardly. “Anyways, delivery from Aldor. Do we have a Naina at home?”

“Oh yes, that would be me.” Naina bows with a smile.

The Postknight pauses for a second and just… looks up and down at Naina. “You’re shorter than I thought you’d be.” She blinks before shrugging. “Not that your height’s my business. Sorry, I have a big mouth.”

The famous alchemist on the other side of the door opens it wider. “Would you like to come in?”

At that the postknight quirks an eyebrow. “A famous alchemist like you just welcomes people in, huh?” She shrugs. “If you’re offering I won’t say no, but I’m really just here to deliver a letter. I’m sure you’re a busy lady.”

“I’m not allowed to be one right now.” Naina leaves the door open wide and starts to head back to the kitchen. She turns back and smiles. “Come in, we’re having lunch.”

The mention of food perks the postknight up. She more readily steps into the house and closes the door behind her with a pep in her step. “A free meal’s a nice way to pull me in. What’s cooking?”

Naina makes a beeline to her original seat and sits down. “We had leftover Mycena lumera , so we’re cooking those.” She smiles.

The postknight scrunches up her face as she slows down slightly. From behind the kitchen counter, Miles gives a shout as he tosses the dish. “What th’ girl means is that I'm cooking up some Nightcap Shrooms for mushroom masala.” He flashes a challenging grin at the Postknight. “Think ye can handle yer spice?”

The Postknight goes to sit across from Naina. “Sure I’ll bite.” She slides the letter across the table. “Have anything to take the edge off if it takes me out?”

“Yogurt suit yer fancy?”

“Works for me.”

As the Postknight and Miles chat, Naina examines the letter. As expected, it has the seal of the Aldor scholars. She sets it aside.

The Postknight looks at her. “Not gonna read it?”

Naina giggles. “I’m not allowed to be a busy lady right now.”

“Yeah she ain’t! Chef’s orders!”

The Postknight just shrugs before setting her bag on the floor beside her. “I’m Maggie by the way. This is my first delivery up here in the highlands, is everyone this welcoming?”

“I’m Naina. The nice man in the kitchen is Miles.” And she doesn’t know how to answer the question, so she doesn’t.

Maggie blinks twice, looks to the kitchen, then back to Naina. “I heard Violetfair was gated off for awhile, not all of you are gonna be this welcoming, are you?”

Naina tilts her head. “Isn’t it polite to let you in? Why would I leave you out?”

“Because…” Maggie trails off, and is interrupted by Miles carrying two trays: each with a plate of rice and a reddish-orange curry, and a bowl with a healthy helping of yogurt.

“Most folks ‘round here are gettin’ used to the whole Postknight thing.” Miles chuckles. “Don’t expect this level of hospitality, but the lot of ‘em will come around.” He turns back to the kitchen. “And if they don’t, stop by my place. I’ll keep your stomach full out here, for a price of course; this one’s on the house.” He turns back to Maggie and winks as he walks back to the kitchen.

“Now that’s my language you’re speaking. Thanks for the meal!” Maggie calls back, before taking a bite. One mouthful in, she promptly slams a fist on the table and lets out a strained cough. A few more coughs in and she shovels dollops of yogurt into her mouth.

Seeing as the meal has started, Naina helps herself to a spoonful that’s precisely two-thirds curry and one-third rice. It tingles nicely over her tongue. She chews slowly, counting to thirty. When she swallows, the curry burns the whole way down. After a few more spoonfuls of curry the nice tingle burns over slightly, and Naina mixes a spoonful of yogurt into her dish.

Following Naina’s example, Maggie goes from shovelling yogurt into her mouth, to shovelling yogurt onto her plate and mixing thoroughly, turning the curry into a light orange. “Isn’t,” Maggie pants, “that a bit too much of a kick?”

“Really?” Naina tilts her head. “I think it tingles quite nicely.” She hums as she eats another spoonful. Just the right spiciness. She chews thirty times and swallows. “I’ll admit it was a little spicier than usual though.”

Miles returns with his tray. “Gettin’ started without me, eh?” He slides his tray on the table and sits beside Naina. “Our girl here likes it hot.” He spoons some yogurt into his plate and stirs. “The only fella that comes close is her brother.”

Naina gets the feeling that someone is staring at her, but when she turns to Maggie, the Postknight looks down at their curry, slowly raising a spoonful to her mouth. Judging from her expression, the addition of yogurt has done wonders for her taste buds. Maggie swallows. “That’s better.” She lets out a satisfied breath. “And really good. Might actually take you up on your offer if this is how you cook. Could do with less spice though.”

Miles just laughs. “Only way to get it to taste right!” He starts eating too, adding another spoonful of yogurt after the first bite.

“So how does a famous alchemist like you get started?” Maggie asks after a few bites. “To be honest, I imagined you to be way older.”

Another thirteen chews and a swallow later, Naina replies. “My parents started teaching me when I was young.” She takes another spoonful of curry.

Maggie just hums as she shovels some more curry in her mouth. Again, Naina gets the feeling she’s being watched. Naina ends up making eye contact with Maggie and blinks. She’s a bit… watchful for a Postknight, Naina thinks.

Maggie swallows. “Ain’t it a bit dangerous? Plenty of that stuff can’t be good for kids.” 

Naina chews another twelve times and swallows. “I suppose so.” Naina says considerately. “Though, my parents are alchemists themselves. I suppose they’d know what would be safe to offer.” She eats another spoonful of curry.

”Is your brother also into that stuff?” Maggie leaves her spoon in her bowl, and rests her head on her hand. There’s a gentle clink of spoon on plate.

Smiling, Naina chews twenty-two times before answering. “Yes. My brother’s also quite familiar with alchemy. He even published a paper on sage recently!” Beside her, Miles just eats his meal, letting the conversation go on.

“Sounds like your whole family’s busy then. Is he younger or older than you?”

“He’s younger than me.” Naina smiles. “You might know him. I heard he’s been working as a Postknight lately.” It’s technically the truth, though she left out Vaidya being Maille’s resident alchemist as if it would change anything.

Maggie leans back casually with a grin and raised eyebrow. “I just might. What’s the guy’s name?”

“My brother’s name is Vaidya.” Naina answers before taking another spoonful.

And Maggie is not at all shocked. “Yeah, I thought so.” She shrugs. “The crossover for Postknights and Alchemists isn’t that big. Your brother’s kind of the odd one out there.” She tilts her head and pauses for a moment. “Though I guess that also makes me and Tina odd ones out. I think that leaves us as a pretty nice trio though.”

Naina feels herself hold the spoon tighter. She stops chewing for a moment and looks at Maggie.

At this point, Miles puts his spoon down on an empty plate too. “Nice little coincidence we have here eh?” He leans back with his arms crossed. “Sounds like you know a thing or two about our boy.” 

“What can I say? We’ve been with him since day one.” Maggie shifts forward in her seat, and leans in slightly. “Have any juicy gossip I can use against him?” She winks with a shushing motion, as if Vaidya would be able to hear them otherwise.

Before Naina gets her thirtieth chew, Miles pipes up. “I’ll pipe up first.” He grins. “Our boy used to get lost in the woods ‘ere all the time.” He points a thumb at himself. “Yours truly was in charge of finding him.”

“Bah! That’s barely anything. The guy still gets carried away by the crowds up in Caldemount. Always knew his sense of direction wasn’t all there. The guy entered the city a Postknight, and left a babysitter!”

Feeling it would be rude to interject, Naina takes another spoonful of curry after she swallows. She chews somehow even slower than before.

It’s a hollow feeling, Naina thinks. This is the kind of day Naina’s dreamed of forever. Every postknight that stopped by only knew Vaidya by name as Maille’s alchemist. She’s imagined all the questions she could ask between potions, salves, and experiments; she even wrote them down: stamped, sealed, and mailed. Here before her is someone who can actually answer those questions of hers.

So why can’t she say anything?

Instead of saying any one of her questions, she loses count of her chews, and doesn’t stop. Her hand releases the spoon and rests to her side. Well past thirty chews, Naina swallows.

In the meantime, Miles and Maggie are very into their gossip. They chat on about how Vaidya’s learnt to cook, or that he’s been given four entire bouquets of flowers, or that he’s quite handy with daggers.

And where did all that time go? Are they talking about the same Vaidya? That same sweet Vaidya? The Vaidya that trailed behind her so sweetly as they brewed their first potions together?

But they keep talking. A chef in Caldemount taught him recipes. Somedays, he and a shepherd drive out dire wolves around Maille together. He invented a new drink. He got a promotion for his Postknight work.

And Naina should be happy. She should be so happy. Vaidya’s out there! Her little brother is fine! He’s making friends! Doing new things, helping people. She should be so happy! And they talk on and on about his deeds.

And she feels farther and farther removed from her brother. Not by distance, that happened a long time ago. Instead, Vaidya’s an entirely different genre of person so far far away from the sweet brother that licked at his face after spilling low mallow extract all over himself. Or the brother that became an alchemist-in-training the day after. Or the brother that helped Miles choose flowers or watched Otto’s shop, or chased after that Ironwald girl. Or the brother that always so neatly put everything together so that Naina could do her work.

He got the qualifications for a B Rank Postknight last month.

The inside of Naina’s mouth is numb, like a jolt went by and fried all of her tastebuds shut.

He could have had a delivery here any day for an entire month.

Somewhere along the lines—Naina doesn’t quite know when—Miles guided Maggie to the door with some excuse or another, maybe, she didn’t hear him speak. Naina just noticed that while she wasn’t paying attention, at some point there was no longer anyone seated beside or before her. If she tries, maybe she can hear the opening and closing of the door, or maybe she only imagined it.

Vaguely, Naina realizes that she is panicking. Before she knew it, her fingernails clawed at her robed arms, there’s a dull sense that her leg is vibrating hard enough for her vision to become blurry, and above all else, she feels breathless. As usual, Miles noticed before she could.

She tries to remember the breathing trick she taught her brother: in four, out six. Instead she finds that her lungs reject the notion of trying. She can hold back her arms just well enough that they won’t ruin her current sleeves, and as an assurance, she stands up from her seat shakily.

But she can’t breathe, or she’s breathing too fast. At some point the difference is meaningless. Regardless, there isn’t enough air to fill her lungs; the difference is moot after that.

So when Miles comes back with his stupid carefree smile, Naina gives in to whatever her body’s telling her to do.

She just starts shouting. She screams about how much she misses her brother, and about how confused she is, and that she doesn’t know if the person the purple haired girl was talking about is even her brother, and that she’s sorry about whatever she did but she doesn’t know what she did and before she realizes her legs gave and and she still can’t breath so between choked out words there’s a growl that comes up from deep within her throat, and she barely registers it until Miles runs for a cup of water and somewhere she began crying and there’s still no Vaidya and she wants to see her brother is that too much to ask for? And Miles is back with the water, but even if her throat is raw she knocks it away because drinking it would mean slowing down and slowing down means to sit down, think, and accept one immutable, undeniable conclusion; a conclusion based on months and months of iteration:

Vaidya doesn’t want to see her. 

And she wants to see Vaidya. She wants to see Vaidya so much that she’ll take whatever other Vaidya that Postknight girl was talking about. She’ll hope he kept his hair long as it always was—she always loved running her hand through it—but she’ll accept it if it’s chopped short. It’d be nice if he would still join her for experiments and infusions, but just being there would be more than enough. Just a moment is all she needs.

She realizes at some point Miles picked her up (in a princess carry, charming). Raising a hand to her face, she realizes she’s been crying from the wetness. Embarrassed at her display, she flushes, her throat so raw that her apologies are illegible. She starts wiping off her tears with her robe sleeve. But the tears still flow, and she finds herself covering her eyes with her sleeve.

Maybe it’s this kind of thing that’s why her brother won’t come home. 

Miles doesn’t answer. Instead, he sets her down at the dining table and plucks that polite little flower from her head and holds it in front of her. (Miraculously, the flower survived her outburst.) “This flower ‘ere is from yer brother.” He says softly.

What?

Seeing Naina’s unresponsiveness, Miles uses his other hand to hold up Naina’s, gently closing it around the Crystal Larkspur. “Our boy, ‘er,” he rubs the back of his head. “Vaidya visited good ol’ Violetfair yesterday.” He turns back around to the water barrel. 

Naina stares down dumbly at the flower, the polite little flower that Naina was so sure would’ve missed her notice any other day.

There’s a small splash as the noise filling Naina’s head clears. Miles turns back around with a cup. “I uh-” He hesitates. “Wasn’t supposed to tell ya per se.” He kneels down to Naina’s eye level, holding the cup to Naina’s lips. As she drinks the water, he tilts it up further. “Said I’d keep it a secret, but I think that’s doin’ more harm than good.” He sets a now-empty cup on the table.

While swallowing gulps of water, Naina’s eyes never left the Crystal Larkspur. Coarsely, she asks “Really?” She’d ask more—she wants to ask more—but speaking gives an uncomfortable scratchy feeling in her throat so she stops before she starts coughing.

Miles plops himself down on the opposite side of the table from Naina. She didn’t notice it earlier, but Miles somehow found the time to set aside the dishes during her outburst. “Well, yeah. Can’t say I think whatever you have going on in yer head there is doing ya much good.” He knocks on his forehead with a wink. Out of Naina’s earshot, he mumbles something about how these two siblings have too much going on in their heads.

“No, I-” Naina coughs. Grabbing the cup, Miles darts back to the water barrel to grab a refill.

When he returns, he places the cup before Naina, and a second cup for himself. “It’s from yer brother.” He sits back down.

Logically, Naina should drink the water, but drinking water would mean letting go of Vaidya’s flower. Instead she just stares at it until Miles sighs and helps her drink some of the water. “Why?”

Miles shrugs very obviously. “Who can say? We didn’t get to talk all that much. Got caught up cleaning up that mess by Otto’s place I talked about.” He takes a sip of water. “What I do know is that yer in his thoughts. Our boy wouldn’t have left that otherwise.” He gestures to the delicately held flower between Naina’s hands.

Then there’s nothing else to say. Not really. Naina knows what matters. Vaidya might not want to see her, but he has come home. And the politeness of Vaidya’s tiny little flower makes so much sense. It’s like a tiny tug on her sleeve from when the two of them were the same height as the dining table she’s now sitting at. It’s Vaidya. It’s so Vaidya.

She feels a cloth on her cheek. She looks to her side and Miles is there, dabbing tears. He doesn’t say anything, just flashes a smile when their eyes meet.

After Naina’s tears stop flowing, Miles uses the cloth to wipe down the table. “I ought to teach ya how t’ take care of those flowers, eh?”

Wide-eyed, Naina stares at Miles. He just raises an eyebrow in response. “What? Yer not planning ta let it wilt are ya?” In response, Naina vehemently shakes her head and Miles chuckles. “Don’t ya worry.” He says. “Just takes a little bit of patience.”

As with every day, when evening comes, Naina lets the usual magenta flowers she wears in her hair get taken away by the evening breeze. In hindsight, she realizes that she never got the chance to ask Miles about that specific flower.

Not that it matters. It’s just an accessory.

Her… outburst, so to say, took its toll. Her body generally felt weak, so in the end she let Miles help her clean up her alchemy preparations. (The letter from the Aldor Scholars remains on the dining table, undisturbed. It is only on another day, partway through lunch when Miles is cleaning up, that Miles will remind her that she never read it.) She takes a sip of warm evercherry tea that Miles brewed before he left.

Slowly, she walks up each of the dozen stairsteps. The surface of the tea barely ripples as she makes her way up and into her bedroom door. She sets it and a teapot filled with more down on her desk.

On the edge of her desk, at the far corner where she wouldn’t accidentally hit it, is a tiny flower pot holding a single, polite, bent over Crystal Larkspur.

Naina’s noticed that lately her days have ended earlier than usual. Maybe not always so… dramatically, but she’s found that for one reason or another, she’s found her usual work more tiresome. Instead, she finds herself in her room before the time she’s able to sleep, and is left with her thoughts.

The thoughts themselves aren’t good or bad, just new. She finds herself thinking without her brother.

With time to waste, words in her head and a strict sleep schedule in twenty eight minutes and fourteen seconds, Naina pulls back a chair and sits at her desk. She pulls out a feather quill, ink jar, and paper and wastes the time away.

Dearest Brother…