Willow's Point of View

Chapter 1

The soothing sound of Gran's mortar and pestle filled our apothecary shop as I hung another fresh bundle of herbs from the ceiling to dry. Our garden was growing great this year thanks to the help of a mossmew family that had nested outside. The little cat-like creatures had mossy fur that absorbed water, keeping the air around them humid and the perfect temperature for plants.

One such feline was currently slinking through the shelves, chasing a beam of sunlight between the glass storage jars. I moved the jars aside, cupping the tiny mossmew in my hands.

"This isn't the best place to play," I said softly, petting her fur. The moss was so fluffy that my fingers easily got lost in it as the mossmew nuzzled against my hand. I placed the delicate creature inside a potted lavender plant, smiling as it nestled between the stems. "Thank you for helping our plants thrive."

As I leaned down to listen to the mossmew's purrs, I noticed Gran bending her wrists back and forth like they were sore. I glanced away so she didn't accuse me of spying on her, but listened carefully once she started grinding herbs again. The once steady rhythm of her mortar and pestle had begun to falter as the ache of her many years as an apothecary weighed on her.

I'd asked her to take a break so many times, but she always refused, often doing double the work just to prove how fine she was. I wished she'd take better care of herself, but she always said this shop was her dream and being here reminded her of Grandpa.

How could I ask her to retire when she said things like that?

"I can feel you staring," Gran said, adding the herbs she'd been grinding to a set of brass scales. "What's on your mind?"

"Just daydreaming, that's all. You know me."

I took a deep breath, inhaling the earthy scent of our shop. That smell had calmed me ever since I'd moved in with Gran after my parents passed away, helping her and Grandpa gather plants and mix medicines before I even knew how to write. Now it was my time to step up, to show Gran how capable I really was so she could rest after so many years of hard work.

There was just one tiny thing nagging at me: the response the story gods had given to the book I'd offered them at the Tales and Tomes Festival.

I pulled a well-worn note from my pocket, staring at the story gods' words once again: the story speaks, but the heart is silent.

Writing was supposed to be a fun side project, just a one-time thing to see if I was any good at it or not. So why did their message bother me so much? When that note had appeared on the surface of the book well, floating in that beautifully glowing water right next to my book, I was so excited to read it. I figured they'd tell me it was great or that I was better off sticking to my apothecary job, either way I'd have been content.

But their response was so cryptic that it had me puzzling over it day and night. The story speaks, but the heart is silent. What did that even mean?

"Come sit down and have some tea," Gran said, motioning at the chair across from her. "If you're still that worried about the note, maybe you should write another book for next year's festival. See what the story gods say then."

"No, that was just a one-time thing," I said, stuffing the paper back into my pocket. "We've got a lot of inventory to do still, so I should--"

"Sit down," she said, nudging my chair out as she added leaves to the teapot. "Whenever I decide to retire, and I'm not saying that's anytime soon, the shop is yours. You don't need to prove anything by working yourself to the bone." She stared at me so intensely that I almost squirmed in my chair. "Honestly, I'm still not convinced it's what will even make you happy. Just because it was my dream doesn't mean it has to be yours."

"But it is my dream," I said, gripping the chair tight. "I love tending to our gardens, crafting medicines that can heal people in need, checking in with our repeat customers, all of it. This shop is my home and it's my dream just as much as yours."

I knew every nook and cranny of this place, from the gnarled and pockmarked wood of the worktable to the smooth wood of the stools that every member of my family had sat on. My grandparents had opened this shop before my parents were even born and they were supposed to take over before their accident. Now it was up to me.

"You don't need to worry about me," I said, reaching for the teapot to pour us both a drink.

Gran sighed as the sweet and nutty scent of rooibos tea swept over us. This kind of tea was often used to brighten somebody's mood, a fact that was not lost on me at all. I smiled against my teacup as the steam curled around my face.

Helping people was the part of the job I enjoyed the most and Gran was an expert at it. It was like she knew what was wrong with somebody before they even told her and many believed she had magical powers at this point. I'd spread a few of those rumors myself in my younger years, but that didn't mean she was always right.

Because right now she was acting like I was just here to fulfill some duty to my family, not because I actually wanted to be here. I loved this shop and all the memories it held. It kept me connected to what little family I had and I refused to give that up for anything.

"Okay," Gran said, "but I'm here if you ever want to talk about your writing more. You and your grandpa always came up with such wonderful stories."

He's the one who'd gotten me into reading, gifting me books like they were golden treasures. Then Gran would bring me up the mountain with her to gather herbs and I'd eventually wander off to the Misty Mountain Library to read for a bit. Books had always been a huge part of my life, but they were a hobby, not my job.

"Maybe if you let me read it...," Gran started, but stopped when she caught my expression. "One day I truly hope you feel confident enough to share your joy with others."

"Thank you, Gran." I gripped her callused hands tight. "You're the only reason I even tried in the first place. You've always got my back, so I'll let you read it. One day. Maybe when you retire."

She barked a laugh as she poured herself more tea.

I felt bad not letting her read it, but after the story gods' response, I just wasn't ready to share it again.

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The story speaks, but the heart is silent.

That phrase would haunt me for years to come.

The bell above our front door chimed as a customer walked in. I motioned for Gran to stay where she was and got up to greet them.

"Welcome to Fern and Fable Apothecary, how may I--," my voice caught in my throat when I saw the telltale black horns and shadows curling around the man. What was the demon lord doing here?? I cleared my throat, trying not to stare. "How may I help you?"

"Nyssa forced me to run errands. A demon lord running errands," he scoffed, pushing a bag of books at me. "These are yours. You put them on hold last week, but never came to pick them up. It was uncharacteristic of you, so everyone was worried."

His intense gaze swept over me, as if searching for something, before roaming over the rest of the shop. He didn't seem like the kind of guy to do things he didn't want to, so what was he really doing here?

If I was the type of woman to fall in love easily, I'd have hoped he was here for me. Romance wasn't really my style though, but flirting? Now that could be fun. The demon lord always had the best reactions.

"Aww, that's so sweet you were worried about me," I said as I looked through the books. Nyssa had ordered a few new ones in and I was excited to read them. "Thank you for this."

"I never said I was worried," the demon lord grumbled, but he moved closer instead of leaving now that his errand was complete. "So you're an apothecary?"

His voice sounded more curious than usual, so I motioned for him to come inside. I honestly didn't know very much about him beyond that he was the tall, dark, mysterious kind of guy, but he had come all the way out here just to drop off these books. The least I could do was show him around.

"This is my Gran's shop," I said, nodding at her as she picked up her mortar and pestle again. "Her name's Fern and my Grandpa told great stories so he's the Fable half of our shop's name. We've been in business since before I was born."

The demon lord didn't say anything, just browsed our wares silently. It wasn't an awkward silence though, more like he was so focused on the herbs and medicines that talking would have interrupted him. His long dark hair brushed against the jars as he leaned closer, examining them with interest. I hadn't expected him to care about any of this, but seeing him there, picking up a healing paste and examining how its green color shined in the light… he actually looked good.

He glanced sideways at me as if he could feel my stare, so I whipped around and busied myself with something else: helping Gran. I was not attracted to that demon lord, no way.

Gran harrumphed as I took the mortar and pestle from her, but then sighed as she took her seat again. She really did need to rest more often.

"So who's your friend?" she whispered. "He's very handsome."

"Did you miss the demon horns?" I asked, laughing. I knew she'd been having problems reading the tiny ledgers lately, but there was no way she missed those. "He's one of the story spirits from the library. He's the demon lord from the book series I Just Wanted a Peaceful Life, but Now I Have to Stop the Demon Lord and His Entire Army!"

Gran's eyebrows shot up. "A story spirit in our shop? I didn't think they left the mountain."

That was a good point. What had Nyssa been thinking sending him into town on his own? Sure, the town had changed their tune about the library, but the demon lord was still the scariest of them all. At least, to most people he was.

The barest hint of a smile touched his lips as he noticed the mossmew curled up in the lavender. He pet the tiny cat-like creature so quickly I would have missed it if I hadn't been watching.

Did the demon lord...actually like cute animals? The way he acted at the library made me think they were all a bother to him, but maybe that was an act? Like the big grumpy guy with the heart of a cinnamon roll?

No, that was what Gran would say was my imagination running away with me again. He was the villain of his story, not some romance hero about to woo anyone who crossed his path.

Not that I'd want that anyway. I already had enough to deal with with taking over the shop. It was too bad though, because that little smile of his gave me butterflies, even when it wasn't aimed at me.

"So he's not your friend now," Gran said slowly, "but you'd like him to be?"

I laughed, pouring the ground herbs into a pouch. "No, nothing like that. He just dropped some books off for me."

"Right," she said, getting to her feet and wandering over to the demon lord before I could stop her. She was still pretty spry when she wanted to be. "Hello, can I help you with anything?"

The demon lord bowed his head. "No, wise one. I was just browsing."

I would have been annoyed if he'd used his usual sass on my Gran, but him being polite was kind of shocking. I didn't know he had it in him. Maybe there was more to him, a quiet puzzle to solve if I had the time.

"You seem at home here, dear," Gran said, patting his hand. "Feel free to stay as long as you like."

"Gran!" I hissed, clamping my lips closed when the demon lord glanced at me. "I mean, yes, stay as long as you like."

That little smile tugged at his lips again, but this time, his eyes were on me. I rubbed my palms against my pants, suddenly feeling warmer than usual. Maybe too many mossmews had come inside, filling the air with their humidity.

"I think I will stay a while, thank you. It reminds me of...." His brow furrowed and he turned away, studying what we had on the shelves instead of finishing his thought. "The library is too noisy lately. It's refreshing to be somewhere quiet."

Gran gave me a look that said get over there and talk to him. I sighed, doing what she wanted just to stop the conversation I knew would come if I didn't. She always wished I'd find a nice man to share my life with like her and Grandpa, but she didn't realize how rare that was.

Relationships like theirs were hard to find outside of books and even if you did, it just ended in pain. Loving somebody always ended in loss, one way or another. It was easier not to get attached than deal with that heartache.

"So the library's doing well then?" I asked as I picked up my inventory logs to keep my hands busy. "That's great."

He scowled. "It's terrible. The place is crawling with humans all wanting to talk to me."

"Yeah, that sounds absolutely terrible," I said with a wry grin. "So you have fans, what's wrong with that? You're from an extremely popular book series. I'm just sad that we'll never get to know how it ends."

The author of his story had passed away a few years ago after writing seven amazing books, but leaving the final one unfinished.

"Not you too." His scowl deepened as his shadows snapped in the air. "I don't know how it ends any more than you do so everyone needs to stop asking."

His voice was almost a shout by the end and he looked ferocious with those shadows whipping around him and his eyes set in a glare.

"Are you really that mad about having fans?" I snapped, gripping my inventory book tight. "I'd kill to have as many fans as you do. Even just a few dedicated ones would mean the world to me."

His glare softened, but he didn't respond and the silence stretched between us. It was thick and awkward this time too.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you," I said, opening a container to count how many elderberries we had. "My book just didn't get the praise I was hoping for, that's all."

"That's unfortunate," he said, watching me count our stocks and write them down for a bit before opening the next jar himself. He started counting the ginger, moving them around in the jar. "Seven."

I raised an eyebrow. Was he...helping me do inventory?

We continued on like that for a few hours, spending the afternoon inventorying the entire shop in amiable silence, which seemed to be the thing he craved most right now if the library really was that busy. As the sun set, he turned to leave with just a nod and a bow to my Gran.

"See you again soon?" I asked, hating how hopeful that question sounded. "I mean, if you need another escape from the library that is. We can always find work for you here."

He smiled a real smile for the first time. "I might take you up on that. Farewell."

Then he walked out the door, bell chiming again as he left.

"Well, follow him, quick," Gran urged, nudging me towards the door. "Seize the moment! He's not used to this world, so you should walk him to the mountain at least."

Her excitement had me shaking my head, laughing. "He's a demon lord, Gran. He doesn't need me to walk him home."

"Doesn't need it, no, but maybe he wants it."

I rolled my eyes, forcing myself to move deeper into the shop before my feet betrayed me and ran outside to see if she was right. He'd probably be offended by the idea of me walking him home anyway.

My place was here. At the shop. With Gran.

That was the only thing I could focus on right now. The faster I learned everything I needed to know, the sooner she could retire and rest up. I wanted her to enjoy life after all these years working, not work herself sick.

I was an apothecary and that was all I needed to be happy.