Galen wasn’t human.

To all those who knew him, that wouldn’t have been a surprise as they too weren’t human. Moreover, out of the millions of people who populated the world, there were few who knew Galen. He wasn’t bothered by this because he tried very hard to keep it that way. Humans had a history of being bothered by those not like them. He believed it was hard to be any more different than a human than not being human at all. Not being known wasn’t his problem. His complaints laid in the fact that of the few who knew him, even fewer considered the not-human a friend. Not-humans were lonely creatures, and Galen was tired of being lonely.

He supposed that was how he ended up moving to the town of Sunmesto, setting up a small apothecary. Now, he found himself surrounded by a multitude of boxes in the summer heat of Erasima. He wiped a hand across his forehead. The gesture was in vain as all the sweat he removed was replaced by more a second later. He leaned against the box he had carried into the shop, glaring at the sun that came in through the window. It was already late afternoon, but the sun blazed on steadily. However, dusk would soon approach, and he wanted to be done before it arrived.

"The weather here is scorching," he complained to himself as he walked back outside. He glanced at the cart that was still half full, and a groan left him. He grabbed another box off the cart, hefting it into the store. The shade of the store provided immediate relief.

After setting the newest box down, he grabbed a chair and sat down in the middle of the messy room. The room would be the storefront of his new business, and he could already imagine what the place would feel like busy with customers. He had discovered medicine making some odd decades ago, so it was fairly new to him. He hadn’t imagined himself being so entranced by the art, but he supposed potions were a form of medicine, a less complex form.

He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, resting his sore body. "Why didn't I ask for some help moving?" he asked himself.

Then, a thought came to him, and he shot out of the chair. Checking the side of every box in the store, he finally found the one labelled ‘Eggs.’ There were no eggs in the box, which was good because perishables shouldn’t be moved thousands of miles across the sea. Instead, bottles of various sizes filled it. He rummaged through the contents until his hand closed around the right bottle.

Pulling it out, Galen inspected the bottle in the fading light coming from the window. The potion was green with a light sheen of red, a color that looked rather unappetizing. However, despite the potion's appearance, it didn’t taste bad. Galen drowned it in one large swallow, relaxing as the soreness in his muscles went away.

"Next, I've got to deal with this heat. Wish there was a potion for that too," he sighed. Moving in the middle of summer wasn’t one of his smartest ideas. Stretching his arms over his head, he made sure his entire body was loose again. He moved the chair to the side of the room and went outside to return to the tedious task of moving boxes.

When he got back to the cart, he could hear the faint sound of two people talking loudly. Curious, he looked around the curve of the street to see two men arguing. One of the men was of average height with dark black hair and wore a simple outfit consisting of a shirt and trousers. The other was slightly taller and older than the dark-haired man and wore a sheriff's uniform.

The younger man was agitated and gestured wildly toward the older man. While not calm, the sheriff was more subdued and stood stiffly in the face of the younger man's anger. Turning away from the two, he noticed that he was the only one giving the fight any attention. People on the street near the two continued with what they were doing as if there was no fight at all. Deciding to follow in the townspeople's footsteps, Galen turned back to continue unloading boxes.

The two men's argument became the backdrop to his work. He finished carrying the final box just as the sun began to dip under the horizon. He planned to spend the rest of the evening relaxing, but the sound of yelling informed Galen that his hopes may go unfulfilled. While he had been putting away the boxes, the two men's argument had grown louder and louder. He might have been able to ignore them before, but now the younger looked one second away from punching the sheriff in the face as he screamed at him. Although he was one to normally avoid conflict, he knew that he would have to find some way to break them up if he wanted any peace and quiet.

Walking up to the men, he asked, "Hey, I heard you guys arguing from down the street. I don't want to bother you, but I was wondering if you could keep your conversation a little quieter?"

"Mind your own damn business. This is between me and this town’s disappointment of a sheriff," the younger man snarled. Galen was taken aback, but he should have expected this. The argument he interrupted was intense.

"Disappointment? Son, I’ve served this town to the best of my ability. You’re the only one who’s had any problems,” the sheriff turned to him, “Sorry, sir. Severin’s never had any manners. I'm very sorry our arguing disturbed you." The sheriff ended his reply with a glare toward Severin. Severin returned his glare with an even nastier one.

"No need to be sorry. It's been a long day for me, and I was looking forward to some relaxation time," Galen said. However, the younger man's vitriol fueled Galen's curiosity. What was he so angry about? 

"Of course, I’m always the problem, huh. I’m the one who’s in the wrong," Severin huffed and stormed off.

Galen and the sheriff watched him go, and as soon as his back left their view, the sheriff said, "Again, I'm very sorry about his attitude and for disturbing you.”

"There's no problem," he paused, "Would you tell me what you were arguing about? I could hear you quite clearly, but I never caught what the argument was about."

The sheriff laughed, "Severin’s always trying to stir stuff up. He and his family got renounced a while back, and he's been acting up since."

"Renounced?" he questioned.

"Ah, being renounced just means the family in question has fallen out of favor with the governor. Nothing to be mad about these days. It just means the whole town ignores the blacklisted family," the sheriff answered.

He frowned at that. Nothing to be mad about? To him, being alienated by a whole town was rather serious. And to think it was for a crime as vague as falling out of favor with someone. "What used to happen?" he asked. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"The renounced were stoned," the sheriff said. Horrified, he stared at the sheriff wide-eyed. He wondered how the sheriff could say that so nonchalantly. He couldn’t detect any hint of remorse in the sheriff's tone either.

"Did they stop doing this recently?" This was the most important distinction. Something 200 years ago perhaps would warrant a more matter-of-fact tone because he knew humans didn’t have long lifespans. Nonetheless, Galen thought that there was always room to be remorseful for past actions, especially ones that involved murder.

"About 50 years ago. We stopped after the unification." Galen certainly wasn’t expecting to fear for his life so early on. While they may not still consider stoning a viable option, it wasn’t too long ago that they did. He didn’t have a wealth of love or respect for humans, but he thought them better than that. Was this the town to search for human friends?

"Would you look at the time," Galen pointed to the sun that had almost completely vanished behind the horizon, "I've got to go home. I moved in today, and I'm very tired." Unfortunately, as he was turning around, the sheriff grabbed his arm.

"Hey, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Sheriff Morstat. What's your name?" Morstat asked.

Galen didn’t want to give the sheriff his name but felt it was too impolite not to return the gesture, "Galen."

"Nice to meet you, Galen," The sheriff tipped his hat at Galen. He tried to smile, but it came off as more of a grimace. He hoped that he and Morstat wouldn’t run into each other again, but he doubted it. With a perfunctory wave, he headed back to his shop.

Crossing the threshold of his store brought him relief straightaway. He closed and locked the door behind him. Walking past all the mess, he climbed the stairs to his apartment. He dragged his feet to his bed and promptly fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

***

For the first time in a while, he woke feeling well-rested. He swung his legs off the bed before standing up. The bedroom held only one window, which cast light onto the doorway. Galen walked over to the window and peered out onto the street below. Townsfolk littered the narrow street, bustling to and fro between the buildings. Watching the people go about their days motivated him to start his own. He descended the stairs and ran right into a box. The moving mess still cluttered the room.

Galen gave himself a quick pep talk before grabbing the box closest to him and starting to unpack the contents. One by one, he picked up books and set them into a neat pile beside him. Once that box was empty, he grabbed the next one. This box also contained books, so did the next and the one after that. Steadily, the stacks of books grew with each finished box until a corner of the room was filled.

Looking at the growing mountain, Galen grew concerned. He couldn’t remember packing all these books, and he had no bookshelves. He pulled the next box to him and opened it up. Lo and behold, it contained even more books. This was going to be a problem. He had neglected to bring any large furniture simply because the shipping costs were far too large. Now he had to figure out where to put all of them. However, that was a thought for after he finished unpacking everything.

Opening the next box, Galen was relieved to find something other than books. He proceeded to spend the rest of the morning unpacking every box and organizing it into manageable clutter. Standing with his hands on his hips, he surveyed the progress he made. The room was still messy, but a distinguishable order was established. He placed his incense and candles near the shelving unit behind the counter, the balms and salves near the shelving unit closest to the entrance, the potions and tinctures and tonics on the next one, and the ingredients for tisanes and decoctions on the furthest unit from the entrance.

Packaging for all his wares laid scattered around wherever there was empty space, and the same went for his more exotic and rare plants. The balms, salves, tinctures, potions, and tonics were already prepared, but it would take forever to sort everything by use and type. The incense, candles, tisanes, and decoctions needed to be put into more appealing packages and labeled. Galen had a lot of work ahead of him, and he was dreading the coming days.

Today, he would tackle the book problem. Galen didn’t know how he had come to amass such a collection. When he was packing, he hadn’t recalled this many. Galen didn’t even read. Well, he read as little as he was able. The store did have a storage room, but the sheer number of books would fill it. Galen needed that space to store his plants and make his goods, so that was one option gone. He could keep them stacked in the corner of the room, except that was unsightly and might weird out customers. Another option made void. He could get rid of some of them, but he was unsure where to find a place to dispose of them. He wasn’t about to become a litterer, so he crossed out that option. That left his room. The books would occupy half of the space, but it was the only viable option.

The rest of the afternoon consisted of him rotating between carrying piles of books upstairs and taking a breather. He wasn’t the most physically active being, and the heavy piles he carried took a toll on him. As the day went on, he had to take longer and longer breaks. Finally, he carried the last stack into his room. He glanced out the window, sighing at the sight of the sunset. He had lost an entire day dealing with the books. He collapsed onto his bed, but sleep didn’t come as easy as the previous night.

Galen stared at the ceiling and thought about the future ahead of him. This wasn’t the first time he had moved. In fact, it was only the latest of countless homes. He was as close to immortality as a not-human could be, and it was a tricky thing to deal with. It forbade him from settling down in one place for too long. People, humans, became suspicious, and his kind wasn’t looked on favorably. Thankfully, humans had advanced past killing them, but the mistreatment never stopped. He preferred to avoid trouble, so he left before anyone could realize what he was.

As one could deduce, this made lasting friendships difficult between humans and not-humans. The absence of aging wasn’t an easy thing to hide. Friendships between not-humans weren’t rare, but it was safer for them to avoid grouping together ever since the genocide. That left him bereft of both not-human and human friends.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

At first, he was fine with not having friends. He preferred to keep to himself, but thousands of years were a long time to keep to oneself. Additionally, almost immortal beings like himself were prone to wasting away, a deadly condition that proved fatal to most who experienced it. Having a companion normally kept the wastes away, but finding a reliable source of them was hard to accomplish.

He didn’t often have thoughts that went in this direction. He had lived for too long to spend his nights cursing the unfairness of the world. He knew not to dwell on the unchangeable, yet the argument he interrupted earlier led him here tonight. Thinking back to his conversation reignited his disdain for the sheriff and his curiosity about Severin. He saw friendship potential in the young man, which excited him. However, if there was one thing he couldn’t do, it was to get his hopes up. Too many tragedies had befallen him from being hopeful.

The next day, Galen awoke with a lingering melancholy from the previous night, but he had a lot to do, and there was no time for sad thoughts. Getting out of bed, he immediately went downstairs and got to work organizing his inventory. By late afternoon, he had placed the tisanes, decoctions, incense, and candles into their decorative packaging, labelled them, and put them into their correct spots. Any excess packaging, as well as his rare and exotic plants, went into the storage room. That left the potions, tinctures, tonics, salves, and balms, but he would get to that tomorrow.

He wanted to spend the rest of today gathering staple herbs for his medicine. He had specifically chosen Erasima to move to because the island nation boasted a rich environment filled with a plethora of good medicinal plants. It was now time for him to see whether this was the truth. Even if Erasima didn’t contain the amount he hoped it did, there would still be plenty of common plants he could use. However, he thought he might want to stash the stronger medicines away for emergency use if the country's claims were false.

Exiting the town, he took a sharp right and headed straight into the surrounding woods. Carefully scanning the ground, he was pleased to note that the boasts had been true. He immediately spotted four good plants within a couple of feet from the town's entrance. He treaded further into the forest and was even more pleased to see that there were plants he didn’t expect to see in Erasima. Galen would be able to make ninety percent of his stock and would only have to take occasional trips to the port cities to gather the foreign ingredients he needed for the last ten percent. Because he was so absorbed in gathering and identifying plants, he didn’t notice the figure walking toward him.

"Hey, you! The one from yesterday!" the figure shouted at him.

He looked up and saw the young man from yesterday, "Hello, Severin. I also remember you from yesterday."

"Yeah, I distinctly remember how you inserted yourself where you don’t belong," Severin said as he aggressively approached Galen.

"Well, I could hear your argument from all the way down the street, and I wanted some peace and quiet, so I would say that your business concerned me," He took a step back to maintain his personal space. Severin noticed the movement and narrowed his eyes.

"Why are you backing up?" Severin laughed, "Oh wait, I know. Morstat must have told you I was renounced. What’d he tell you? I’m sure it must have been bad if it’s got you acting like that."

He frowned at the accusatory tone, "While he did tell me you and your family were renounced, I only backed away because I like a certain amount of personal space. However, your attitude works just fine in keeping me away."

Severin faltered at that, but quickly gained momentum again, "I don’t need someone like you telling me what to do.”

“I don’t recall telling you that you had to do anything. And someone like me? Who do you think I am?”

“I don’t know. One of the others!”

“How vague. I won’t know if I’m one of them if I don’t know who they are.”

Severin let out a frustrated sigh. “The people who judge me for being renounced.”

“I won’t judge you based on other’s words. However, I will judge what you show me. How you act toward me.”

With those words, Severin stared at him closely. There must have been something in his demeanor that made Severin believe him because Severin's aggressive stance fell, and he looked to the side, "Are you a good judge of character?”

“Why don’t you find out?” Galen laughed before sitting down. He patted the ground next to him. Severin hesitated a moment but ultimately decided to sit down. Galen said, "Tell me about how you were renounced."

Severin stayed silent. Galen nudged him with his shoulder, jumpstarting Severin, "My family has never been well-off, so my mom used to pick up extra work at the Governor's office. She organized his papers and stamped things. She'd been working there for a couple of months when she noticed discrepancies with the papers; the money wasn't adding up."

"He was embezzling," Galen interrupted.

Severin nodded, "Yeah, he was taking a lot of money. You know, my mom was the type of person to do the right thing, so she reported it as soon as she found out."

Severin took a moment to clear his throat. Galen placed a hand on his shoulder for comfort, "What happened next?"

"I think the rest is obvious. The report goes nowhere, and the governor gets mad. He cuts off our family, and the town treats us like shit.”

"Is that all?"

"My mother and father got sick. The town wouldn't help. They died. The end."

Hearing the succinct explanation of what happened clued him in to the simmering anger Severin felt toward the townspeople. The type of anger that could bubble over at any minute. He mustered all the sincerity he could, "I'm sorry they did that to you."

A waterfall of tears fell down Severin's face, and he tried to frantically wipe them away. Galen watched him quietly. Severin groaned and said, "I'm 25 fucking years old. Why am I still crying like this? This happened years ago, I shouldn't still be this sad about it."

"You shouldn't be sad about a tragedy that happened to you?" He looked at Severin's hunched-over form.

“I don’t even know why I told you all this.”

Galen tried to stay out of human lives the best he could, but that wasn’t conducive to making friends. So, he needed to be the one who reached out. He thought back to the last time he had a human friend. The man had wanted to become a sailor. "Severin, what’s your favorite color?"

"What?" Severin laughed, "I just told you my sob story, and you follow that up by asking for my favorite color."

"So, does that mean you aren't going to tell me?"

"It's green."

Galen and Severin spent the rest of the afternoon talking about any trivial thing that passed their minds. Soon, the orange glow of the setting sun shone between the trees. Severin paused in telling his latest story and stood up. He dusted off the back of his trousers, "I've got to go. My house is a little far from here, and I want to get back before night falls."

"No problem. I should start heading back myself."

Severin lingered behind, "Will I see you later?"

"Of course," he said, smiling widely. Severin smiled back before swiftly walking in the opposite direction. Galen turned and made his own way home.

***

Weeks passed since that day in the woods. Galen established his business in the town, and he had gained a few regulars. He couldn’t remember a time where he felt like an integral part of the community. The bell on the shop door chimed, and Galen called out a greeting. He smiled and thanked the customer in front of him for their purchase before looking at the newest person. Galen's smile grew wider when he saw that it was Severin, "How are you doing today, Severin?"

"Good," Severin replied, going up to the counter. He leaned against the wood and played with a pen that had been left there, "Somebody even looked at me when I walked into town. Guess they're getting used to seeing me."

It was no surprise. After their third meeting in the forest, he had invited Severin to come to his shop. He had finally finished organizing his inventory and had decorated the place. A giant sign swung above the outside of the shop, announcing it as Sehrae's Apothecary. Ever since then, Severin had come to the shop every single day. At first, Severin was hesitant to bother him, but he soon got over it and began to pester him about the uses of all the medicines in the store.

"You shouldn't have to celebrate someone acknowledging your presence, Severin. That's an unbelievably low bar to cross," he said as he put the money from the last purchase away.

Severin hopped up to sit on the counter, "Yeah, it is, isn't it? But beggars can't be choosers."

"You shouldn't have to beg to be treated well."

"Whatever." Galen and Severin had this conversation many times in the past two months. Despite Severin's anger at how the townspeople treated him and his family, he had accepted their treatment as normal and didn’t seek to challenge their perspectives. Severin continued, "I don't care about what they think of me. I'm happy knowing that they'll rot in this town while I go and become greater than they ever will be."

Galen rolled his eyes. This wasn’t the first time Severin said something so ambitious. He seemed convinced he would become powerful, someone greater than any governor. It reminded him of many foolish humans he had met before. However, he didn’t doubt Severin's resolution. If he learned anything in his life, it wasn’t to underestimate the drive of humans. Instead of addressing it, Galen asked, "Could you grab me some more foxglove from the storage room?"

"Okay."

Severin slid off the counter and went off to grab the desired plant. The young man had proved helpful in running the store. While he was busy with customers, Severin could perform some of the smaller chores. Initially, he didn’t want Severin helping out as that wasn’t the reason he had asked Severin to come visit, but Severin insisted. He reluctantly agreed on the condition he paid Severin for his work. Severin tried to refuse, but he was adamant. Even though Severin only did minor things like cleaning or fetching ingredients, he started to amass knowledge on the various plants and herbs laying around the shop. He was an enthusiastic student and listened intently to whatever Galen said.

Severin called out, "What does foxglove look like again?"

"It has purple, bell-shaped flowers that point downward. It also has a thick, sturdy stalk."

"Oh, okay." Rummaging noises could be heard from the room, "Found it!" Severin exited the storage room, triumphantly holding up a handful of foxgloves.

"Perfect. Please set that on the counter."

"What does it do, and who's it for?"

"This particular tincture is for Sheriff Morstat's wife. She's been having heart trouble lately, and her doctor recommended trying foxglove."

Severin frowned at the mention of Morstat's name. His carefree attitude toward the townsfolk didn’t extend to the sheriff. Severin had a special brand of hatred reserved for Morstat. He didn’t know the reason for that, and Severin remained confusingly tight-lipped on the matter. He let it go as he wasn’t one to pry. He did, however, make sure to keep contact with Sheriff Morstat at a minimum. He already disliked the man, so it was no hardship.

"Do you think it'll work?"

Galen sighed, "I'm a medicine man, not a doctor. When people come to me with their aches and pains, I can only give them medicine that soothes their complaints. A doctor would know the cause and best course of action, but doctors are a luxury around here. If the doctor thinks this is the best course of action, I trust that they know what they are doing."

"What if they don't?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Then, that is unfortunate for the patient."

"Quite a grim outlook, huh."

"Grim and unavoidable. Let's pray that Pravu guides their soul to its Eternal Slumber peacefully."

"Let's hope."

With that, he began to pluck off the flowers of the foxglove. He took out a mortar and pestle and started to grind it down. Severin played with a leaf that had fallen off one of the foxgloves. He glanced at Galen before focusing back on the leaf. It twirled in his fingers. He stopped crushing the flower and stared at Severin. Severin glanced up again and looked away as soon as he made eye contact with Galen. Galen set down the pestle, "Do you have something to say?"

"Well," Severin paused, seemingly to gather his thoughts, "You know how I come here every day."

"Yes."

"And how I work around the shop."

"Yes."

"I was wondering," Severin paused again.

"Lalai, boy, out with it."

Severin scowled at being called boy, "I'm 25 years old. I'm not a boy. You're like what, thirty? That's only five years older than me."

"Thirty. Something like that," he chuckled, "Please just tell me what's on your mind."

"I want to become your apprentice," the words rushed out of Severin's mouth. He stood shocked. He hadn’t expected that, but it wasn’t unfounded. Severin had been helping a lot around the shop, and he did take great interest in the medicines. He mulled it over in his mind.

While he contemplated the pros and cons of having Severin as an apprentice, Severin fidgeted restlessly. It looked like he was about to open his mouth and tell Galen to forget about it when the bell chimed. Sheriff Morstat entered with his wife.

"Galen! It is good to see you again. I've brought my lovely wife to show her the shop," Morstat greeted as he walked in the door. Mrs. Morstat waved weakly.

"Sheriff, you've come early. Your medicine won't be ready for another day," he returned.

Sheriff Morstat merely smiled, "I know. The wife was feeling a little nervous, so I thought I try to assuage her worries. See, darling, Galen is working hard on your medicine."

Mrs. Morstat coughed wetly into a handkerchief, "Thank you, Mr. Sehrae. I've been sick for a while now, and I hope your tincture helps."

Severin stood stiffly next to the counter while Galen and the Morstats talked. The couple hadn’t noticed him until Galen said, "Severin here has been keeping me company for the past couple of months. He's been an invaluable asset to the apothecary."

"Oh, Severin. I didn't even notice you there," Morstat said.

"For a sheriff, you sure are oblivious," Severin spoke gruffly. The sheriff's mouth tightened, and his face grew colder. Mrs. Morstat was devoid of any expression.

"Anyway, I just wanted to show my wife the store, but we've got other errands to run so I'll be seeing you tomorrow for that medicine," Morstat guided his wife out of the shop with a hand on her lower back. With a quick parting wave, they were gone.

He gave Severin a stern look, "I know you and Sheriff Morstat don't get along, but you do have to treat a paying customer better than that."

"That man deserves nothing less than the worst," Severin crossed his arms defiantly.

"That's too bad because you're going to give him better than that. No apprentice of mine treats any customer poorly."

Severin brightened, "Really! Thank you, Galen!"

He waved his hand dismissively, "No need to thank me. You were practically my apprentice in everything but the name."

"Still, thank you."

"No problem."

Severin grinned mischievously, "Does this mean I have to call you Mr. Sehrae from now on? Now that you are officially my boss."

"No, absolutely not," he grimaced, "Please just continue to call me Galen." Sehrae was one of the many last names he had taken on in his life. He felt decidedly neutral about it but preferred to be called Galen. His creator, Irkala, gave none of his kind a last name, and it didn’t feel right for Galen to call himself by anything other than the name given by his creator. On the other hand, all humans had last names, so he took one to blend in better. He came up with Sehrae when he lived in the desert country of Kurak. Just thinking about the scorching sands of that place left him itchy.

"What will we do first?" Severin asked.

"Our first order of business is identifying plants. Wait here a moment." He rounded the counter and bounded up the stairs to his room. He came back down the stairs carrying a hefty tome. He placed the book on the counter and patted the cover, "This is what you will be learning from. By the end of this apprenticeship, you will know every single plant in here by heart."

Severin stared wide-eyed at the massive book. There had to be at least a thousand pages. Shaking off his stupor, Severin opened the book and started the long task ahead of him.