Chapter 8 - Chapter 8

Days passed since Floris and Alvis took down the buck and had the encounter with the Swamp Boar. Since then, the village has been restocked on food after the two boys went on a hunting excursion bringing back eight deer, two boars, and up to twenty smaller animals such as squirrels and chipmunks. Some of the villagers had also managed to pick several baskets full of berries that grew from bushes dotted around the village. The berries were known as Red Swamp Cherries, but they were nearly the size of an apple. They were one of the few fruits that were relatively safe to eat in the swamp, but they were extremely rare. The only easy way to find them was by growing them. However, the village was built in a location where the fruits grew unusually close together. A single bush could produce hundreds of these berries during a good year, but due to their sweet taste, the berries didn't last very long and were completely consumed within a few months of their harvest. There were other fruits that grew in the swamp, but they were even rarer and harder to find. In fact, they were so rare that neither Floris nor Alvis had ever seen one despite their constant years of searching.

In the days gone by, Floris had also managed to mostly restock his chests so he could resume his alchemical experiments. He was one trip short of completely restocking his supplies, but he was relatively comfortable conducting more experiments and resuming his potion-making with the resources he had now. He sat in his room, chewing on a Swamp Cherry as he wrote notes down in his journal. He had just recently finished a batch of potions he made on a regular basis. They were his best healing potions to date; they were capable of healing and closing a large open wound within the timespan of a single hour; all while fighting any infections, sicknesses or diseases that may have gotten into the persons' bloodstream. He made these potions at least one time a week and had built up a considerable stockpile of them. They were quick and easy to make and ultimately cost him very little in the way of alchemical resources, making them very good things to trade when the trade wagon made its way to the village. Floris, being the smartest one in the village, was the only one who knew how to keep track of time. He was the only one who knew about hours, weeks, months, years and so on. So, he knew the trade wagon was due back in the village at any time. However, the other villagers were only able to know the time by the seasons. The villagers referred to them as Cool Season: Fall, Cold Season: Winter, Wet Season: Spring, Dry Season: Summer. Right now, the Dry Season, or Summer, was nearing its end, meaning it was almost time to start preparing for Winter. For now, though, Floris focused on making his next batch of potions and conducting more experiments.

Later, a loud "gong" echoed through the village, snapping Floris' attention from his journal. He smiled under his scarf and started collecting several potions, poisons and animals skins he had put aside for this particular occasion. The trade wagon was coming into the village after several months of being away. With his stuff collected, Floris carried a large chest outside his house and set it on the ground next to the wagon as the other villagers gathered around with their own things they wanted to trade. As the village healer and the one who often traded the items of

unique value, the trader usually picked Floris first. The trader was an older man who supposedly grew up in another village somewhere in the swamp but managed to get a job driving the trade wagon from some town outside the swamp.

"Ah! Floris! It's good to see you again! What have you got for me this time 'round?" The trader asked as he looked at the chest Floris brought out with him.

"I think you'll like what I offer this time around. I've managed to improve my healing potions quite drastically since the last time you were here. They'll heal an open wound in less than an hour while also fighting any kind of infection, sickness or disease" said Floris.

The trader looked at Floris in amazement, then looked at the chest again, "Really? Well, I'll get these loaded up right away, then. The military would love to try these out."

"The military? I thought you usually took these to the Mages Guild." Floris said with a hint of confusion in his voice.

The trader nodded as he got the chest loaded and clapped his hands together as he looked at Floris again, "You're right. I usually do. But I was told by the head of the guildhall I usually go to to take some of the potions you make to South Port, which is a small naval dockyard on the southern tip of Misty Lake. Supposedly, an Admiral or some other high ranking official was interested in testing some of your potions. I guess a small fleet of ships just brought a bunch of wounded soldiers back home from the wars in the South. Or so I've heard, anyway. I know I've told you this before, but your name carries a lot of weight in the outside world, Floris."

"Interesting. Well, I also have some animals skins and some common poisons in that chest as well." Said Floris.

The trader pulled out a scroll that had the delivery items listed and started reading through it, "Alright. So, let's see here. The Mages Guild has actually sent you some new alchemical equipment by the looks of it. New alembics, retorts, that sort of thing."

"Really? I'll take it, then. I've been needing some new stuff now that I think about it." Said Floris.

The tradesman nodded and reached for a large chest in the wagon. "Here you are, Floris. Careful, it's a little heavy." He said as he handed Floris the chest.

When the chest was in his arms, Floris nodded to the tradesman in thanks, then slowly carried it back to his room, allowing the other villagers to start trading.