"What's the safe dose?"

I leaned back in my study, Na seated across from me. A vibrant purple flower lay on the table between us.

"There is no safe amount you can ingest," Na replied, exasperation evident in her voice. "Just because you can touch something doesn't mean you can eat it."

Her eyes narrowed. "Where did you even get this? These are extremely rare and don't grow here."

"My garden," I explained. "From when that small squad ventured in and out of the Plague zone before it reached us. This flower was one of the few things that survived there, and here... it's the only thing truly alive." I gently prodded the flower, my mind turning over itself trying to think of something.

"What are the symptoms?" I asked, curiosity piqued.

Na's response was chilling. "If you consume it, you simply die. That's where its name comes from. It's a slumber that you never wake up from."

A shiver ran down my spine. Ominous indeed. Imagine not even realizing you are dying.

"What are you planning to do with it?" Na asked. "Besides looking pretty, it has no other use."

"Figure out why it isn't wilting from the Plague and see if we can apply that resilience to ourselves."

Na's eyes widened. "Are you trying to turn poison into medicine?"

"Yes," I replied without hesitation. "After all, you've seen the reports. The Plague is getting worse."

Na nodded gravely. "An elder has already died, and it's starting to affect some of the younger and older adults."

I echoed her nod, a chill running down my spine. The Plague seemed to be expanding its reach, now touching those up to twenty and down from the elders to the mid-thirties. It was as if it were slowly squeezing towards the middle, perhaps targeting those with the weakest bodies first.

Rising from the table, disappointed but not surprised, I said, "Thank you for coming to confirm my fears. I'm going to see what I can figure out on my own."

"What's your plan?" Na asked, curiosity piqued.

"I'll start by mixing herbs, hoping to nullify whatever harmful effects the flower might have."

As I left the room, my mind was already racing ahead. I needed to gather my guards and return to my old house. If I could uncover what allowed these flowers to thrive and apply it to humans and other plants, we might have a chance at recovery. The first step was clear: collect more flowers. Then, I'd request herbs, starting with those not currently in use. Only as a last resort would I touch the ones keeping people alive.

Arriving at my old house, I circled around to the garden, my eyes fixed on the patch where those resilient purple flowers that awaited me. They looked just as majestic as when I first saw them. Kneeling down, I carefully extracted another flower, laying it gently aside. I repeated the process until I had a small handful – a pitiful bouquet, but a start.

Standing up, I dusted the dirt off my pants and surveyed my meager garden. This wouldn't be enough, especially if I discovered how to use them effectively. I'd need to send another squad back to the source to gather as many as possible and hopefully relocate just as many. Despite my desire to stay at home, duty called me back to work.

As I entered the city hall, I flagged down one of the workers. "Can I get an assistant for the day?"

The worker bowed quickly. "Of course, where should I send them to?"

"My study room."

With another bow, the worker hurried off to find someone. I didn't want to waste time running back and forth for water, bowls, and herbs. My study was about to become a makeshift laboratory.

In my study, I arranged the flowers and the few bowls I had on the table, placing a flower in each bowl. A soft knock at the door announced my assistant's arrival.

A young man in his early twenties entered, his black hair and brown eyes typical of our city's inhabitants. I was surprised they hadn't sent someone more susceptible to illness or an outsider—perhaps I still held some status despite the recent event.

He bowed deeply. "My name is Jun. How can I help the Sage with his duties?"

I returned a small bow. "Can you get me some water and more bowls?" Jun nodded and departed swiftly.

Rising, I made my way to the medical center in search of Na. This experiment was just beginning, and I needed all the expertise I could get. The faint sounds of groaning and the shuffling of feet echoed through the hallways as I passed by the rows of beds filled with patients. All very ill, as those who were still fit to work were ‘volunteered’ to continue working.

Na stood near the far corner, speaking quietly with another healer. Her expression was one of deep concern, and I caught bits of their conversation.

“The next batch will be grown in time,” the healer was saying, “but it won’t be nearly enough. And bloodletting is becoming too dangerous in some cases.”

Noticing my approach, they trailed off, and Na turned toward me.

“Sage,” she greeted with a slight bow. “How can I help you?”

"I’m going to begin experimenting with the Cold Slumber flower. I need some herbs from you to see if we can neutralize its toxicity."

Na raised an eyebrow. “You actually think there’s a way to use it? I thought you were being mysterious when I asked before.”

"I have to believe there is," I replied firmly. "The flower resists the Plague. If we can figure out how it works, maybe we can use it."

She let out a long sigh. “Alright, what herbs do you need?”

"I’ll need a small batch of all the herbs we aren’t actively using to fight the Plague. Also, I’ll need a mortar, pestle, and someone who can explain their properties."

Her eyes narrowed in frustration. “That’s a lot of herbs, and we’ll be down a person while you run your experiments.”

I shrugged. “We don’t have much of a choice. Time is running out.”

After a moment of contemplation, Na relented. “Alright. I’ll send someone with the herbs soon. You’ll be in the study room?”

I gave a small nod of thanks and left the medical center. By the time I returned to my study, Jun had gathered the bowls of water, but still stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. Soon after, a healer entered carrying a large sack filled with herbs. A man followed her.

"My name is Tao," he said with a bow. "I’ll be explaining the herbs and their uses."

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

"Thank you, Tao," I replied. "Let’s begin—time is not on our side. Would you show me the herbs and their effects?"

Tao quickly pulled out two roots from the bag. "These are Spiritfire Roots. They’re known to increase vitality and energy, but in a case like this, that might worsen the symptoms."

I shook my head, “No, it might be exactly what we need. If the Cold Slumber flower drains vitality, this could balance it.”

With Tao’s guidance, I began grinding the Spiritfire Roots with a small amount of the Cold Slumber petals. The grinding was rhythmic, almost meditative. Adding a touch of water, I worked the mixture into a paste. I didn’t know what ratio to do, but since it was so deadly I started out with a ten to one ratio. Once the paste was ready, I carved the name onto the bowl for identification and set it aside.

“Next herb?” I asked, looking at Tao.

Tao seemed caught off guard, but he quickly composed himself. “Yes, Sage. Right away.”

We worked methodically, Tao identifying each herb and explaining its properties while I ground them into paste, careful not to mix too much of the Cold Slumber flower. Each combination was carefully carved. Some herbs were meant to soothe fevers, others to ease breathing, and a few to steady the heart.

After the ninth bowl was finished, I created one last bowl as control—a pure paste of Cold Slumber without any other herbs mixed in. Once all the bowls were set, I turned to Jun.

“Find Shan and tell him to meet me at the animal pens. We’ll start testing there.”

Jun nodded and ran off, his footsteps quickly fading down the corridor. Tao and I carried the bowls carefully as we made our way out of the city, heading toward the animal pens.

I had hoped not to use them for experimental purposes when we were just starting out to breed them, but the situation called. Testing on animals was our only option before moving on to humans.

Shan arrived shortly after, flanked by a small group of guards. “Sage, you called?”

I nodded. “Yes. I need you to separate ten sick ox. I’ll be feeding them this... medicine. If we can find a way to cure the illness, it would truly be a blessing from the goddess.”

Shan quickly organized his men. They entered the pens, spears drawn. As they approached, the ox grew agitated, sensing something amiss. The men skillfully maneuvered, dividing the herd, isolating the weaker animals from the group. Each sick ox was dragged out, one by one, tied to the fence as they weakly struggled against their bonds. Feeding it will be an issue of its own. Should I starve them? No, that would take too long.

“Shan,” I called, “get me some feed.”

One of the guards ran off and soon returned with a tub filled with grain and stalks. I separated the feed into ten portions, carefully mixing each with the different herbal pastes, carefully avoiding cross-contamination. The feed now looked strange—most batches took on a purple hue, while others had hints of red and green streaks. I would try to simply offer them the feed with mixed in pasted. If anything, I can have them hold the ox while someone brutally forcefeeds them.

While I waited for them to eat, I turned to Shan. “Would you be able to organize another group to gather more of those flowers?”

He nodded. “I’ll need to ask where they found them, but I’ll get it done.” With that, he walked off, leaving me alone with the ox and a few workers.

As I stood there, staring at the oxen, my mind wandered. What if we never found a cure? What if the Plague worsened, unrelenting until we all succumbed to it? The thought twisted in my chest, but I pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. One of the oxen decided it was hungry enough to eat the funny looking grass in front of, and my mind eased a bit.

I decided to think of other less depressing thoughts. Has it been two or three years since I arrived here? I didn’t know that tracking time was difficult, as it didn’t snow, and time sorta blurred together.

A loud thud snapped me from my thoughts. One of the ox collapsed on its side, with no sound or struggle—just a lifeless fall. Everyone held their breath as we looked at what just happened. It hadn’t even been thirty minutes since it ate the feed.

My heart pounded in my chest as I approached cautiously, picking up a stick to prod its side. No reaction.

Walking up to its side, I picked up a stick and prodded its side. No reaction. Building up some courage, I got closer and opened its mouth with the stick with ease. That wasn’t a good sign.

I needed to see if it was breathing, but I hesitated in case it was still alive, as the only two ways I would be able to tell, since visually it didn’t seem to be breathing, was to put my hand near its nose to feel any exhales, right within reach of its mouth. Or my ear on its stomach, where it can freak out and crush me.

Seeing that prodding it didn’t get any reaction, I decided to bite the bullet and put my hand near its nose. Besides the breeze from the slight wind in the air there was nothing. Feeling a little more courage, I put my ear on its stomach. Nothing. Not even a heart beat.

I felt a chill go down my spine out how simply it had passed. I looked at the bowl I had placed further in front of the ox, reading the label: Emberveil Bloom. We won’t be using that mixture, that’s for certain. I stared at the carcass, wondering what to do with it. Was it even safe to eat? I didn’t know where the poison was concentrated. If it was in the blood, I doubted it could cleanly be butchered. If it was the heart, then it was probably safe to eat.

I called out to the butcher, “What do you think? Is it safe to eat?”

The butcher looked startled. “I… I wouldn’t know, Sage. I’m not a healer.”

I sighed. It felt like such a waste to discard the carcass, but we couldn’t risk it. With no carnivores around to make use of the remains, we had little choice. “Cut it up and spread the pieces in the fields for fertilizer,” I said, turning to the workers.

They eyed the carcass, hunger flickering in their expressions. I raised an eyebrow. “Unless you want to end up like this ox, I suggest you don’t eat it. Just shred it and spread it in the fields. And tell the workers it’s poisonous—no one should get any ideas.”

They nodded, hastily setting to work. Another thud echoed soon after. I turned to see yet another ox toppling over, its body lifeless in an instant. Slumbering forever, much like the first. I repeated the same checks—prodding, listening for breath and heartbeat. Nothing. Another failure. I looked at the bowl: Cold Slumber.

Eventually at the seventh ox, there was a change. Instead of falling dead. The ox fell and continued to breathe. It was labored but it was still breathing. I looked at its label: Spiritfire Roots.

I looked at the ox with a conflicted expression. On one hand I wanted to see how long it would survive, maybe it would survive. On the other hand, there was already a proof of concept that a mixture of the Spiritfire Roots can fight off the effects of the Cold Slumber.

Eventually as I felt its breath get weaker and weaker, I decided not to torture the poor animal and ordered to have it put down. I looked at the other two oxen that were still alive, the ones that ingested the Moontear Fern and the Serpentvine mixture were still alive. I didn’t know if they would stay alive for long.

* * *

I had six bowls laid out before me, each filled with carefully measured mixtures of herbs. The combinations varied: some contained twenty parts of Spiritfire Roots, Moontear Fern, or Serpentvine with one part of Cold Slumber, while others had ten parts of two mixed herbs with a single part of Cold Slumber. I had to be cautious. I feared diluting the Cold Slumber to the point where it would lose its effectiveness, but safety had to be a priority unless desperation called for riskier measures.

I glanced at Jun, who was standing by, waiting for my instructions. Tao had already been dismissed to his other duties, leaving only Jun and me for this next trial. "Let’s take these back to the pen and try them," I said, motioning toward the bowls.

Jun nodded eagerly, scooping up four of the six bowls and hurrying outside. I chuckled softly at his enthusiasm, picking up the remaining two bowls and following him. When we arrived at the pen, the workers knew the routine by now. They quickly separated six sick oxen, tethering them to posts.

I administered the mixtures one by one, mixing each batch with the feed before placing it in front of the oxen. We watched as they sniffed at the food before cautiously consuming it, unaware that their lives hinged on what they ingested.

Hours passed as we waited, watching intently for any immediate effects. Five hours went by, the mark when most of the previous test subjects had begun to fail. None of the oxen had collapsed this time, though I noticed a few were struggling to breathe, their chests heaving with labored effort. Still, I let them be. I needed to know if they would survive.

It was around the eighth hour when the first death occurred. The ox that had eaten the mixture of Spiritfire Roots and Moontear Fern suddenly slumped to the ground, its body limp and lifeless. I sighed, marking down the result with a heavy heart. One failure.

Second to go was the Spiritfire Roots with Serpentvine. With the last being the Serpentvine and Moontear Fern. It felt like I was making progress, but I didn’t know if I was. They weren’t living long enough for me to tell if the Cold Slumber was having any positive effect on their health.

* * *

After thirty oxen deaths, I thought I finally found the golden ratio. Thirteen Moontear Fern, nine Serpentvine, and one Cold Slumber. I did my usual, mixing and placing it in front of the ox. This one had already learned from its predecessors and refused to eat it initially, but as we didn’t feed it anything else, it eventually succumbed to its hunger and consumed the feed.

We waited there, two hours. Five hours. Eventually the workers needed to attend to other duties, but me and Jun stayed there observing the oxen. I stayed up all throughout the night. When the sun rose, so did my hope. It was still alive.