After returning the house to change, Willow was finally on her way into the city. Her mother had attempted to reproach her ‘rude’ behaviour to their guest when Willow had headed for the door.
Willow had shot her a cold, angry stare before stating, “If you want to die so much go ahead. I have no intention of joining Brendan before my time. I do not think this is what he would have wanted.”
Siobhan had sucked in a harsh gasp, but Willow had already made for the door. It had been a low blow, Willow knew, bringing Brendan into this, she was not the only one deeply affected by his death. But she was so incredibly angry that his sacrifice could be made void because they chose to welcome such danger into their home.
A brisk walk brought her into the bustling marketplace, distracting herself by planning out her day. Willow had two tasks that had to be completed that day. Her distraction left her vulnerable and she was forced to dodge a crazed woman and sacrifice the contents of her pockets to a second.
Willow ran a small business procuring, growing and distributing medicinal plants, poultices and potions and she had to attend the site today to take care of some of the minutiae that came with running a business. She also wanted to check in with her employees. She knew that at least one of them had been directly affected by the execution and she wanted to offer her the support she could. She was quite proud of her little shop. It was not strictly permitted and Richard had not approved of the endeavour. But she had found herself the apprenticeship and Simon had been more than happy to take her on. Her earnings from her apprenticeship had primarily become part of the family income, but she’d managed to squirrel away drips and drabs until combined with parts of her dowry, she’d been able to purchase the shop.
The second task for the day was a personal hobby of hers. And she turned her mind towards this. Most parents had to work hard all day and didn't have the time to teach their children to read and write. Willow had assisted a friend's younger sibling and soon she was tutoring groups of five or six children. For some strange reason, children had always seemed drawn to Willow, even when she had been a child herself and she had made a little pocket money on the side, babysitting when she was quite young. So, transitioning into teaching hadn't been that difficult for Willow and now she quite enjoyed her twice a week lessons with the various kids of the city and surrounds. Money wasn’t used in the city, having become worthless after the King had taken over, although a few pieces of it had survived into the modern-day as family heirlooms. To counteract this loss the city functioned under a barter system for food, cloth and so forth. It worked well for Willow and her family, and she had been able to squirrel away a sizeable portion of her little income under the guise of increasing her dowry.
Willow also used this teaching service as a cover for a more underground service. Despite the Kings best efforts, Children were still born with magic, including Willow herself, and that was a concern for any parent. Young magic was volatile at best, a tiny tantrum could very easily lead to a magic storm that brought the King's Guard down on you faster than you could blink. Unchecked toddler magic, however, was a whole other mess.
When a child was young, usually around the age of four or five, the first signs of a magical gift could begin to show, although it was far more common for the magic to show itself around ten to thirteen. If this happened, the parents brought Willow in. While she was not trained in any way, she had managed with the little Nil had taught her in conjunction with a little trial and error. Magic grows as the child does and if left unchecked, so do the magic storms so Willow would place a barrier between the child and their innate magic, thus preventing the magic from being accessible to the child and stunting its growth. While the obstruction took hold, she used her own magical presence to counteract the fluctuations, keeping the child hidden. In most instances, by the time the blocker ran out at thirteen, that child generally had no magical ability or so little remained that it was untraceable by the King. After the blocker ran out, if the child received no training and no one reminded the child they even had magic, it would remain dormant.
Only once since Willow had started doing this had a child broken the blocker and Willow had trained him to dampen is magic instead, as she did. There were a few seasons there where Willow had used her own presence to mask the child’s. It was far harder to block fully-fledged, unfettered magic then it was to cover minor fluctuations and Willow had been putting herself in great danger of discovery. She had told no one of this, not wanting to scare or concern anyone but it had been the most stressful, hair-raising experience in her life.
Today, she would be teaching a group of six-year-old's their letters while examining a barrier she had recently placed in a young boy. He'd been a late bloomer, to begin with, but when Willow had placed the blocker, she had felt almost remorseful. It was clear this boy would have had some very strong magic if it had been allowed to grow further.
But safety had to come first, and the boy had been devastated when he found he couldn't use his 'superpowers' anymore, although the parents had done all they could to keep his mind from such things, terrified the block would break.
He seemed to be bouncing back alright, chatting happily with the other four kids as Willow escorted them into the parent's lounge rooms and placed a slate slab and chalk in front of each. He did seem a little skittish around Willow however, which was not unusual in this scenario. Quite often the child would attribute correctly her interference and hold a grudge for a time, but being so young, they often forgot and moved on eventually. Especially since no one they spoke to would ever acknowledge again that they'd had the power to begin with. It would become just another childhood fantasy story.
Willow spent a few pleasant hours teaching the boisterous children their letters to varying success. On inspection, the boy's blocker had been 'scratched' at and Willow concluded that he was still attempting to access that power, trying to break the wall. This too was normal however and she merely bolstered the chips and reinforced it a little. As she did this, she noticed the boy flinch and turn toward her angrily.
Willow felt genuinely sorry for him in that moment as she gave him a peaceable smile he huffed at. In an ideal world, there would be no need for such things. But a little pain and sadness now in exchange for a lifetime of love and fun and happiness? Willow felt the trade was worth it and she hoped, if the child were older and given the choice, he would agree. In the children Willow had done this for, they seemed to get by just like any other child. The eldest was close to thirteen years old now and had long forgotten she'd ever had magic, thinking it had been some story she had told to amuse herself. It was something she laughed about with her fiancé when Willow had met the man a month previously.
Still, Willow regretted the necessity and kept an eye on all her young charges as they aged, occasionally bolstering blocks and so forth. The eldest of her young charges had only recently left her teaching room, considered old enough to help her mother out around the home and prepare for marriage, as was considered proper.
At the end of her day, Willow helped clear up the table and organise the room back to its original state before helping them redress in their outerwear. Clasping hands, she slowly meandered each child safety back to their various domiciles, in time for the midday meal.
After each child had been returned, Willow turned herself toward the small storefront that housed her little business on the far end of the main road, dreading the work that awaited her there. It was a long building, the front designated as a store front while the rest assigned for other purposes. It was unpainted, as all the buildings were in the city. A planter box beside the door usually provided some colour but the autumn chill had long since killed the blooms. Willow chose to enter through a side door and studied the little operation.
She'd started as the apprentice to the local alchemist at the time, Simon, when she was thirteen. While he was not adept in the social areas of life, he was a genius when it came to the medicinal properties of the various flora that grew around the city and was well respected for his kind nature and expertise. She'd enjoyed the work, spending the majority of the first two years out in the sparse permissible fields searching out the herbs, mosses and plants her mentor had desired at any given time. He had been executed shortly before she would have graduated. She'd had all the knowledge; it was merely a formality, but it still took time for the city to trust her expertise. She never claimed to be able to live up to the precedent Simon had set, but that had been what was expected of her.
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When she was eighteen, she had begun to struggle. She couldn't keep up with demand and the plants she needed for the various potions, poultices and salves she distributed, which had been growing rarer as the years passed, seemed to be going extinct.
She had been desperate. If she closed, if those plants disappeared, then the city was vulnerable to every disease or injury that cropped up. People would suffer. People would die. She had to decide and, thankfully, Richard had allowed it, however reluctantly, with some cajoling from Esther. Taking a large chunk of her dowry, she had purchased the building she now practised out of and began to cultivate the plants by hand, desperately hoping she could continue to do her work.
She'd been lucky, it had worked and even now she made sure to return some of the seeds to the wild in the hopes that someday they would grow back, stronger than ever. Her little business had boomed and eventually, she had taken on employees, unable to keep up with demand alone. She now employed four women and two men, and it all ran so smoothly that she was not strictly required to attend the shop at all. Yet she refused to relinquish complete control of the business to her employees, although she no longer was required to do the lion's share of the work. She still took pleasure intending to her plants and found it restful in times of stress. If ever she had needed that, it was now.
She greeted the three people bent over pots, watering and pruning who bobbed curtsy and bows before returning to their work. Willow turned to Sylvia with a smile.
“Thank you for passing out the word for yesterday.” Sylvia bobbed another curtsy.
“No worries, ma'am. It was no trouble.” Willow nodded before turning to enter her potions room.
No sooner had Willow settled into the comfortable rhythm of her job, she heard the front door slam open, followed by screams of pain and a mess of panicked voices. Dropping her tools, she rushed forward taking stock of the men now congregating in her front room.
Four men carried a fifth between them. Moving quickly, she indicated they bring him into a smaller side room with a bed where they placed the screaming man. Willow was shocked by the breadth of the wounds. His face looked as if it had been whipped by branches as if he had run through the forest, his shoulder was grossly dislocated and pushing through his skin and visible through the tattered remains of his bloodstained tunic, the gory stump of what had once been his forearm clutched to his chest, strands of the remaining skin dangling between what were clearly bite marks. The man had also lost a shoe in his desperate attempt to flee, and the ankle was in terrible condition, rapidly swelling and a nasty greyish blue. Willow supposed at the very least a severe sprain but suspected much worse. The most shocking and the cause of the severe bleeding was a trio of gruesome, ragged slashes, stretching from his navel to his sternum. Willow could see his internal organs poking through the gap in skin. It made her feel ill just assessing the damage. Externally she remained calm, fingers working on autopilot to sedate the man but internally she despaired. This was the fourth patient she'd had with such wounds; the long uneven slashes had been consistent with each of the victims, and they had as yet been unable to find it nor had anyone been able to find the beast who’d done it.
The last patient had been a child of only twelve and there had been little left of him after the beast had him. None of the previous four Willow had been able to save, the damage had been too great for even her skilled hands. The shock of the blood loss combined with the severity of the wounds had been too great for their bodies and they had perished quickly.
As Willow finally managed to get the man sedated, she turned to the men who had brought him in.
“Does he have any family?” She asked quietly.
The men shared a look. “A wife and child. He was out hunting food for them.”
Willow nodded slowly. “Best you fetch them quickly. I'll do my best, but I've seen others like this. They didn't make it long.” She admitted quietly, eyes downcast.
The man who had spoken nodded solemnly before departing with his friends in a rush.
While Willow had been talking, Sylvia and another employee had been tending to the man, bandaging his ankle, resetting his shoulder and cauterising the stump of his arm. A third employee had been attempting to keep pressure on the open wounds, fruitlessly trying to stem the constant flow of blood. The man's pallor looked pasty, and Willow knew that he would likely not survive the loss.
Regardless, she had no intention of giving up and quickly sprang into action, coaxing potions down his throat gingerly to help boost his bodies blood creation. Once the first dose was down, she moved an employee to the job and took over the long cuts down his body. There, she found more problems: The man’s intestines had been punctured by the cuts and were left leaking. Carefully she did her best to reattach the lost ends with careful, tiny stitches, before placing them back where they belonged. The skin was of concern too, there was so little skin remaining that stitching him back up was near impossible. The best she could do was rearrange organs back where they should be internally, stitch what she could before wrapping him tightly in layers upon layers of bandages.
The family had arrived before she finished and had been refused entry. The man's wife, Kat, didn't need to see her husband’s insides, seeing him as he would be traumatising enough. Once done though, Willow went to meet the women. She'd come with her sister for which Willow was grateful as she slowly explained the situation. Kat's sister helped keep her standing while she tried to process.
Upon seeing her husband, Kat had attempted to rush to him but was warned that doing so would only make matters worse and so she had carefully moved to his one remaining hand and held on for dear life.
The man kept breathing painfully for a time, but soon it began to rattle against his chest and Willow knew that he would soon perish. She'd taken the sister aside to explain what was happening who had nodded solemnly, moving to Kat's side to support her. His breathing grew laboured, and Willow moved to offer a pain reducer to help ease him into the next life. Kat agreed and it was given.
For just a split second before the drugs took effect his eyes fluttered, and his hand tightened around Kat's for a moment before he drifted away. He was gone soon after.
Kat's wails were haunting in her grief and Willow departed to allow the women their moment. These wails were not unknown to Willow, working in the industry she did, but some of her younger employees were not as accustomed to it. Those Willow had allowed to leave well before the event. There was enough trauma in life without adding others to their young plates.
The day ended and slowly each of Willow's remaining employees departed for the day. Sylvia was the last and Willow asked her to fetch the men who had brought Kat's husband in.
They arrived solemnly, having been filled in on the situation by Sylvia. Willow had entered the room gently, asking if they needed more time. Both women were puffy-faced and hoarse. Kat had disrupted the bandages and so had splotches of her husband's blood staining her arms and clothing but agreed that it was time. Willow nodded, bringing in the men. The two women departed to spread the word of his death.
Willow had one last job to complete as the attending Healer and she realised she had never learnt the man's name and so asked one of his friends.
“Silas. His name was Silas.” They'd said tearfully as they gathered around his form.
Willow had inclined her head before reciting his last life rites. As he was lifted, she rose her arms, symbolising the release of his soul from his body.
“We will take him to the river,” one of the men explained. “Thank you for all you tried to do.”
Willow nodded slowly. “I am only sorry I could not save him. Tell his widow there will be no charge for the services I provided today. She will struggle enough now.” They thanked her and departed.
Willow felt drained. A day in which a patient was lost was always a sad day, but she'd learnt to cope. If she let every death get to her, she'd be unable to help those she could save. As she locked up, she wondered if this attitude meant she was callous.
She took a moment to breathe the fresh air and study the beauty of the sunset.
After a time, she shook herself and made herself take that first step back into everyday life.
After such an event, Willow always felt at a loss as to what to do, it was only just late afternoon, and she was more than unwilling to go home yet. She didn't think she had the temper to deal with it ever, but the longer she could put it off she would.
As she wandered, she found herself heading toward Bea's home. She was welcomed in, the lady's worry going unnoticed. This seemed to further worry the older woman, but Willow ostentatiously tried to move on. Emily greeted her enthusiastically, happily filling her in on her childish pursuits as she led Willow by the hand to the kitchen table, displaying her many new drawings.
Bea did probe for answers but, not knowing how much the older woman knew of the situation or wanting to put her and Emily in danger, Willow remained mute on the subject. She tried to brush it off as an argument, before redirecting the conversation to other topics. She offered to cook more meals for her, but Bea cheerily refused, claiming that focusing on household chores was helping keep her mind off things. Willow had smiled back, encouraging the behaviour good-naturedly. That sat and chatted about menial topics for a time, occasionally interrupted by Amelia and her antics and passed a simple hour in this way. It felt nice to be surrounded by these uncomplicated, very normal behaviours and situations for a time.
Willow didn't stay too much longer however, too restless to sit still. The pressure of her secrets pressed down on her, like a vice. After a short lull in the conversation, Willow downed her cup of tea and found herself making her excuses and departing, leaving the old woman greatly confused and with a resolve to question her parents at the earliest available moment.
Willow made her way into the marketplace, searching for further distractions and quite literally ran into Olivia. Her friend gave her a tight, lingering hug upon realising who it was. How many more hugs will I receive from Olivia? She wondered, returning the embrace. How much longer do I have for such simple joys?