After making it past the townhouses and shops the path took a slight upwards tick, leading to the plains of grass and hills where my own home sat. Slowly the path transitioned from cobblestone to gravel and then plain dirt. It carved its way through a couple of hills before it established itself on the green plains that stretched from either side of the coast to the mountains. The sky above continued to lighten, transitioning to a light blue with a couple of clouds left scattered around.
I bent down for a moment, still balancing the bowls of soup, and plucked one of the blades of grass. It glimmered an emerald green in the noon sun. Windsong grass. My idle thoughts turned to reality as a coastal wind rustled over the plains, causing soft melody to ring out for a moment. These blades of grass were a common magical substance found nearly everywhere. But that didn't make their ancient melody any less beautiful to me.
Picking up the pace I set my eyes the one of the furthest cottages. It almost butted against the small copse of trees, but still had a couple hundred feet of grassland between it. Home. A small garden was attached to the side of the house, all sorts of colors and shapes hosted within. Leaning over one of the plants was a small figure with their hair up in what could only be called a messy bun. Mom.
Looking up from whatever work she was working on she gave a wave and began brushing off her dirt-stained hands on a towel. I broke out into a light jog, careful to keep the soup steady, and crossed the last bit of trail before it broke off to the left, leading directly to our door. Carefully pressing down on the handle, it swung open and I was greeted by the smell of different potent herbicides.
"Whew! What's happening in here?" I asked.
"Just something new I'm working on." My mother said grabbing the bowls of soup off my hands.
She set them down on the counter of our small cooking space and grabbed one of several leaves sitting in a bowl next to the wall. She carefully sprinkled two of them in before grabbing two spoons from a basket of dining tools and stirring the leaves into each bowl.
"Mom. You're an herbalist not a cook. Please don't mess up the soup. I got it as a gift from Ella. Who sends her love by the way."
"Oh stop that. I know exactly what I'm doing… Mostly." She flashed me a childish smile and kept stirring before handing me the bowl.
She took her bowl and limped over to the center of our home where a single couch sat, a small table set in front of it. Underneath the couch was a rug, an expense we had managed to afford when mom was still working. The rug covered most of the hardwood floor and provided something comfy I could lay down on and study when school was in season. To the right of the couch were two doors that led to each of our "cozy" bedrooms as my mom called them. The left was our kitchen with a small wood burning stove against the back of the wall. Next to the stove were the counters that curved out to the side creating more space for my mother to dry her various herbs on.
"So how was work today?" She prompted, setting her bad leg up on the table.
"Same as always, although I did go up to the Arcane repository."
"Oh? You've been visiting more often. As much as I love you, I wouldn't get your hopes up too high."
"I know mom. But it would be pretty cool."
"It would be." She said with a smile.
I took the first sip of soup and grimaced as the strong mint flavor rushed throughout my mouth.
"Eugh. Eugh. Oh this is awful." The comment came from my mother who upon tasting the soup immediately set her bowl down on the table.
"Here, give me yours and I'll use both as food for the plants."
"Herbalist mom, not a cook."
"It won't happen again, promise."
Sure will. I countered in my head, used to her usual antics. We sat in silence for a second before she gestured to the door leading out to the garden.
"The water lilies are done blooming. Would you care to help me harvest?"
"That sounds like a great way to end the day momma."
I followed her out the door where she had laid out a path with small pebbles. The path went a foot out before stopping in front of our splenderchore tree, splitting to the right and left. She moved to the right where a small trough of water sat attached to the house. Inside the trough pink and gold flowers sat atop green leaf pads.
Grabbing one she pinched the flower like she was going to close it but instead pulled the bottom leaf off and curled the remaining roots around the flower.
"Now the trick is to…"
Before she could I finish I showed her my pinched and bound flower.
"And that's my boy! Such a quick study." She gave me a pat on the cheek before she set her flower on the edge of the trough to dry in the sun.
"Now if I had some light coral, I could grind these together and make a paste that would let you breathe underwater. Wouldn't that be fun Hurley?"
"Yes momma, it would. But first, your leg would need to heal."
"It does make swimming pretty troublesome doesn't it…"
"If you mean the fact that you can't swim at all because one, the doctor said so. And two, because you're physically unable, then yes momma it does make swimming tough."
"I know I didn't raise you to have that much sass. But yes in a few months we'll have to go swimming so we can get some choral."
"Sounds great."
I linked arms with her and escorted her to the other side of the garden where we began the process of plucking and clipping various vines, branches, leaves, and flowers for more of her pastes. Some granted more endurance, others a boost of speed, strength, and one for clear skin which used to be a best seller. The whole process was very tedious as we spent the rest of our afternoon and a greater part of the evening peeling, scraping, and mashing different parts.
By the end we had finished putting the remaining pastes and powders in glass jars that sat in a row alongside our house, waiting for my mother to start selling from her booth in town again. Although my mother was a respected herbalist, she didn't know everything, and after experimenting with a few new elements one jar had exploded near her leg, causing her to be resting and healing for the past year. Thankfully the doctor said she would make a full recovery as long as she took several bone repair medicines. Medicines that combined with her inability to work, almost put us under. Even now with my stable hand job we still barely scraped by. Recently she had started the preparation of her plants since she was able to walk around for bouts of time on her own.
"Doesn't it feel great to see all that progress lined up? Soon enough all these jars will be off in different homes helping so many different people." She said it with a wistful look on her face, looking out across the windswept plains as if she could see just where her jars were going to go help people.
"Soon momma, soon." We walked back inside, both of us tired from the technical work.
After she laid down for what she said was just a minute mom was out cold. I grabbed the blanket from her bed and gently pulled it over her, tucking in the sides as soft as possible. After that I too went to bed, thinking of the festival to come.