Cornelia was absolutely drained. The slender wood elf slumped into her hand carved rocking chair and stared at the array of jars in front of her. The procedure to heal Tobias’s apprentice was not something done lightly.

In all, seven jars of burnt orange ickor sat in front of her. The smoky, burned mana had proved to be even tougher to remove than she’d realized. The boy has a natural Affinity for the stuff, in addition to his ‘blessing’. I see why Tobias is interested, just like him indeed.

It had taken all of the previous night, but transforming her garden into the correct operating room was the right call. Outside, shriveled fruits and vegetables littered the ground. She’d needed all of their sacrifice to put the boy back together. The dragon’s mana had clung to him in a way she hadn’t seen in years. The stuff was determined to either kill him or meld with his own mana.

After a few minutes rest, Cornelia puffed out her cheeks and rose from her chair. The garden needed to be tended to. The husks of pumpkins and withered grapes would need to be returned to Chenrel to birth new life again and the sooner she did it, the sooner her garden could return to its usual glory. As it was, the cool winter air had already begun to infiltrate her domain and she had no intention of letting it take hold.

As she gathered the dead plants, Cornelia whispered a song under her breath. She thanked the vines for offering their strength, and helping her remain strong through the procedure. She thanked the vegetables for absorbing the hateful energy the dragon had spewed forth into the poor boy. She thanked the fruit for offering up their potential for new life to regrow the skin she’d removed from the blisters and burns that covered the boy’s upper body.

Once it was all gathered and properly appreciated, Cornelia brought it all to her composting pile and churned the organic matter together with the leaves, branches and clippings from the maintenance of the rest of the garden. In minutes, the blend had absorbed the new material and was ready to be spread into new patches throughout the garden.

What shall I grow this time? Frostroot is always popular, Olena is always interested in cooking with it this time of year. Cornelia smiled to herself as she thought about the girl. When her father died, Olena was left alone in the world with an inn and a thousand men chasing after her.

She’d come to Cornelia for help, and learned how to protect herself with the plants and herbs of the forest. Nothing too dangerous, but plenty of plants could be added discretely to a meal to upset a stomach, or deflate a persistent male. A rare friendship blossomed between them, and Cornelia looked forward to the evenings Olena stopped by for a meal and to tell her the news of the world.

She learned my recipe for mead, too, Cornelia thought and a wry smile spread across her face. That girl has a real talent for producing it. If she isn’t careful, she’ll gain a reputation beyond just this little village.

Cornelia looked around the garden and considered things. An interesting idea was beginning to form. Maybe something a bit different this time around. Some winter wheat over here, a bit of barley over there.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

A lifetime ago, Cornelia had known a funny little man who made the most interesting drinks. He lived on a rocky little nub of an island, largely uninhabited but for the few people allowed to help ship his concoction. The drinks he made were world famous, and sold for a high price at courts around the world. Scotch, he called it. Strong like the black liquors sailors and pirates alike seemed addicted to, but the flavors were truly unique. Something to do with the filtration made them especially smokey in a way nothing else in the world could imitate.

Yes, the more she thought about it, the more she was in the mood to do a bit of distilling this winter. Finding a way to get rid of that dragon’s mana was always going to be a problem but this might just be a perfect solution.

It wouldn’t perfectly mimic the peated filtration process he’d used, but it would add a natural fired flavor. With some luck, she’d catch the attention of a merchant house in Baybreach and sell off the batch in exchange for some hard to come by spices and fertilizers.

Satisfied with her plans for the next crop rotation, Cornelia spread the fresh soil across several plots of her garden, humming an ancient tune to herself as she worked. The new soil steadily became darker, and more fertile as she hummed. The cool air began to warm again, this time taking the warmth of a late summer evening. When the soil was settled and ready for use, Cornelia returned to her home and delved into her cellar.

Inside, among the various casks, pots, pipes, and vats, was an enormous set of drawers built into the walls of the room. Spanning the height of the cellar, the shelves themselves were only a few inches apart. Countless drawers meticulously labeled in arcane Elvish marked the contents inside.

Cornelia moved throughout the room like an ancient archivist, picking and choosing just the right seeds for her intended harvest. Herbs and plants from all over the world were stored in her little drawers, some as common as the trees that made up the forests around Starstone, some extinct in the wild for hundreds of years, only existing in a select few cellars like hers throughout the world.

Her seeds selected, Cornelia emerged from the cellar and began to spread them throughout the garden. A handful of seeds were all she needed for each type of plant. As they touched the soil, each seed flowed with her mana and tunneled into the ground. Moments later, sprouts thrust up and spread, filling each allotment.

In a few days, they’ll be ready to harvest. I’ll sell off the roots to Olena and keep the rest for myself. She smiled and returned to her house as the sun rose.

She was exhausted, having been awake for the better part of two days at this point, but there was one last task to handle. The jars of mana needed to be stored in a secured part of the cellar. In the heavily wood-based mana environment of her home, the fire mana would quickly destroy everything if it were allowed to escape. The glass was good enough to contain the substance for a short while, but eventually it would begin to leak out.

Carefully, she carried each jar down into the cellar and placed them into a special storage container. She’d requested it specifically from Tobias at the beginning of their relationship. The man had an incredible control over metals, and was the only individual she’d seen in a hundred years who could mold the lead she needed to protect herself from something this dangerous.

When the last jar was secure in the lead box, and the door was securely shut, Cornelia finally let out a long sigh. The events of the last couple days had taken their toll and now that she was safe and her garden was recovering, it was time for a long rest. She reached up in the darkness of the cellar and held the ancient roots of the tree that had grown to become her home.

“Thank you again, old friend. I know you hate to have that poison here, but we are protected,” she whispered, stroking the bark. “Keep an eye on the young ones while I rest and we’ll be rid of it for good soon enough.”

The tree seldom responded to her, but she knew it was always listening. With another sigh, she trudged back upstairs and collapsed into her room.