"Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth."

— Sherlock Holmes, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, The Sign of Four

Pride is the main driver of man. Though contested by some, pride can motivate a person to achieve greatness or the opposite. In its sway, morals can become obsolete, allowing for the justification of the most heinous acts in the name of self-preservation and superiority. It is the stepping stone to destruction, the fire that lights the torch of death. I believed humans could always achieve greatness. That they all had the ability to repent. But through death, failure and lies, I realized that wasn't true. I watched people turn on those they loved like a pack of wolves to retain their own desires. I watched them step over others to achieve their goals. Humans wear a veil of righteousness, but is as fragile as glass. I learned that some people are doves while others snakes. Whenever it is for their virtues or ego all humans are liars. their blood tainted one way or the other. After everything, I am lost in the world. The only thing I am sure of is that humanity's biggest sin is its pride.

It was quite dark, as every day. Dreary and wet. The leaning brick towers disappeared in the dense fog like a concrete jungle. The only sounds to be heard were the chatter of a quartet of women and the distant sound of horse hooves and rolling carriages on cobblestone. Occasionally, water would drip from the rotting wood roofs or the rusted metal framework of a few surrounding stores and puddles on the pavement. The smell of the downpour from the night before still lingered in the air pleasantly. The dim streetlights flickered, barely penetrating the veil of mist blanketing the city. Storefronts, weather-battered and worn lined the damp streets. Their appearance, marred by years of neglect and decay. I sat on my battered patched quilt, under the ripped awning of the closed-down pawn shop, as every day. For as long as I can remember, my existence consisted of the same thing. Grinding herbs into medicines and potions that never sold. After pacing around the market, my footsteps echoing hollowing on the pavement, staring pleadingly into the eyes of passers-by to no avail, I would sit back on the quilt, and wait for the day to end. Even after years on the streets, I still was rarely able to sleep. Most nights, I would hang my head low, red ribbons of hair falling over my face, and think about a future I would never have, occasionally dripping into unconsciousness for a few minutes at a time, awoken by the ceaseless cycle of horse-drawn carriages ran back and forth across the city. It was not until a particularly dreary day that everything changed.

I held up my ragged lavender skirt and ran through the downpour. The pavement was slick and cold under my bare feet.

“Just great! Great!”

I was often met with unluckiness, but this day was one of the worst I can remember. I wasn’t even able to make it to the marketplace before the dark skies rained down on me. Ragged shirts and blouses that are found disposed of in the street or alleyways are not particularly waterproof. In an effort to keep the skirt and sleeves of my two-sizes-too-big blouse out of the mud, I dropped my basket of medicine. After cursing my existence, I was grabbed on the shoulder by a strong arm. As I whirled around to claw off my attacker I was met by the face of a sorrowful young man. His face, dark and brows knitted together, his chestnut hair stuck to his from the rain, dripping down his downturn mouth. His once grey suit was pasted with mud and grime. His expression was one I often had myself. Though not smart, I decided to hear him out.

“Please, my dear lady, I need your help!”

“Whatchu’ want?” I spat as I wedged his iron fist off my shoulder.

“My wife, she-” He cut himself off midsentence with a deep cry. “I’ve been looking for you all over, dear lady!”

“Lookin’ for me? What’s this about?” I inquired suspiciously. It seems he finally came to his senses, brushed his dark hair out of his face, and spoke a bit less jumbled than before.

“My wife, she’s very sick. She has always been a fairly frail woman.” He began. “But these past weeks she has not been able to leave her bed. Barely able to open her eyes. They are not sure about the cause. All the treatments they tried had no effect. Because of her constant sickly state, the doctors called her a waste of time and refused to use any more medicine on her.” He began to swing his arm around in a rather erratic matter.

“A waste of time they said! A lost cause they say!”

I backed up from the possibly deranged man and nodded as politely as I could muster, not wanting to escalate this situation anymore.

“Uff, what’s this gotta’ do with me?”

“I heard about you; A herbalist girl who makes medicine. My lady, you are my last help!”

“I-” My heart dropped to my feet. This was the first time anyone asked for my medicine, let alone to save someone’s life. In truth, I didn’t know how well they worked; or if all.

“Please my lady please!”

“Uh, yes I” I began to pick up my fallen medicine and placed them in my worn woven basket. “As you can see mister, you might not want to take any of this medic-”

“Can’t you make more? I’ll do anything!” I was quite stuck in this situation. How could a person possibly say no to such a request?

“Fine, look. I can try to whip something up for you, but I can’t be certain that’ll work. What are her symptoms exactly?”

“Oh, yes I!” He stood up straight, and once again tried to free the soaked strands of hair from his forehead and began to explain the symptoms.

“Coughing, fatigue, nausea, tiredness.” I listed to myself as I trudged back to my makeshift shelter. I flung down my rain-soaked basket and then sank next to it. “Typhoid fever perhaps.” I thought through the possible causes as well as possible treatments. Unfortunately, these were all quite broad symptoms, nailing down a certain cause would be quite difficult. I twisted my strawberry hair around my hair and muttered to myself long enough to get even weirder looks from pedestrians than usual.

“Maybe, instead of figuring out the specific sickness, I could come up with medicine that cures a wide variety of sicknesses.” Despite my lack of proper education, I was not entirely helpless. I knew many different plant and herb properties. Every plant has its property and mixed with something else, it could change completely. Some plants had antibiotic properties, others hypolipidemic, or maybe antiplatelet.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“All I gotta’ do is find the right combination,” I told myself. “No harder than cookin’”

I sat on an oak park bench, organizing my acquired plants while kicking my bare feet back and forth.

“Bee palm, catmint, azadirachta indica, liquorice. Wait, where’s the feverfew?”

For the few dollars I got from my medicine, or pawning abandoned items went straight to an apothecary shop to make more medicines. It was a simple cycle that made barely enough money to live off of. After making sure I had all the ingredients, I grabbed a glass vial out of my basket and began to work.

I swung my basket at my side, as I was in quite a high mood. I, hopefully, created the medicine to save the woman’s life! All that remained was to wait for the man.

The sky was a light peach when I arrived at my usual spot under the pawn shop. It was a chilly morning. I had my feet tucked under my skirt and my hands under my lap. It misted lightly. In spite of myself, I waited for the man quite eagerly; making quick glances down the road and peaking down alleyways. I soon realized this was a complete waste of time when I heard something barrelling down the cobblestone, not even a deaf man couldn’t miss it. I looked up. To no surprise of my own, it was the chestnut-haired man from two nights before.

“You have it right?”

“Good morning to you too.” I huffed. I grabbed the vial from my basket. “Yeah, I have it. Here.”

He snatched it from my hands quickly. Without even looking at it he stuffed it into his breast pocket.

“I’ll-I’ll never forget this, my lady!” He bowed deeply, nearly breaking himself in half, then wiped his eyes. He almost began to run back down the cobblestone before he whirled around back towards me. “Oh, yes. Before I forget; He handed me a small cardboard box. I flipped it over and read the weathered label: PLAYING CARDS.

“Oi’ I go and make you a lifesaver and the way you repay is a lousy box of cards?” I questioned as I waved the box in his face.

“I’m so sorry!” He squeaked out pushing his hair out of his face. “I’m a bit short on money you see.”

“I can see that.” I huffed.

“Oh, but those aren’t any regular cards.” He stated wagging his finger in front of my nose. “Only a few other editions of those exist you see! It’s been passed down in my family for generations!”

“Oh. Thanks.” I still didn’t care.

“How I’ve distracted myself! I better get back to my dearest Monica right away!” Before I could say anything else he was already halfway down the street.

“Goodbye then…” I put the cards in the basket. Perhaps I could pawn them somewhere.

It was unusually sunny. Rays of light peaked through the clouds. Both men and women alike were out for entertainment and errands. The laughter and chatter echoed through the streets. It’s been two days since the chestnut-haired man set off with the medicine. I have been not so patiently awaiting his return. Today I walked around the park. Good weather is to not be wasted. I sat on a bench and watched the swans in the nearby pond. The water was crystal clear. The sun ricocheted off of it, giving it the appearance of stained glass. My view was quickly ruined as a man in a grey suit stepped right in front of me. I sighed. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“What do you want?”

“My dear lady. He bowed, tipping his newly acquired bowler hat at me. You saved her. You did it!” He seized me by my shoulders and shook me violently.

“Glad I could help,” I answered with a nervous smile as I was afraid he was to burst into tears any second.

“The night I gave her the medication, she slept without a single fit of violent coughs. The next morning she was able to eat breakfast. And that afternoon she got up to water the flowers! Ever since the night of the medicine. She’s been steadily recovering. Like magic!” To punctuate his last sentence he shook me by the shoulders again. My neck began to feel sore.

“Again, glad I could help.” I smoothed out my blouse. My stomach felt like fireworks. My medicine saved a person? I looked up at his shining emerald eyes and annoyingly big smile and couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride.

“Oh!” He jumped up. Seemingly a bit embarrassed. “I just realized I never caught your name!”

“It’s Mayla.”

“Mayla… Well, I’m Adam. Adam Clarke.”

“Nice to formally meetcha’ Adam.” He quieted himself.

“Thank you. So much, Mayla. I wish I could thank you.”

“A few pounds would suffice.”

“Hm.” He pinched his chin like he was thinking something over. “Say, how old are you?”

“I dunno.”

“Hm.” He said again. He squatted and stared into my eyes intensely. I leaned back into the bench. “How about I offer you something better than money.”

“Like what?”

“A job!”

“I thought you said better.”

He huffed at me and crossed his arms. “You can make much money with a job!”

“I don’t even know you and you are already offering me a job. It’s legal right?”

“Of course it's legal! Who do you think I am?”

“A crazed man harassing a little girl.”

“Hmph!” He stood back up and scowled at me. “I’m a detective I’d have you know.”

“That’s hardly believable,” I said, crossing my arms back at him.

“No really! I want you to be my assistant! Have you heard of forensics?”

“Nope.”

“Well!” His eyes shone once again. He seemed happy to explain it to me. “It’s an up-and-coming method to solve crimes. Using evidence such as fingerprints, footprints, blood samples, and more! They are analyzed in a lab to find out how and why a crime was committed. And by whom!”

“And you want me to?”

“Become a forensic scientist! Or my forensic scientist! Together we will be an unstoppable duo!” I eyed him suspiciously.

“Attention to detail, patience, a strong moral compass. You’d be perfect!”

“How would you know? I barely know you!”

“Not many people would attempt to save the life of the wife of a stranger who grabbed them on the street. Just give it a chance. When’s the next time you're going to get a job offer such as this.”

I pushed him away with my foot.

“You are one annoying man! I didn’t know what forensics was until a few seconds ago and now you want me to become a forensic scientist?” He laughed deeply.

“I must sound crazy to you, huh? Maybe This will be the worst decision of both our lives, but we will never know until we try right? You can trust me. What kind of man would I be to screw over the women who saved my dear Monica?”

I thought about this deeply. My life has never gone the way I wanted. Time after time again I was met with misfortune. I was thrown away by society. Most days nobody would even glance at me. But a man offers me a job. Suspicious or not would it be smart to turn him down? I had nothing to lose. Nothing to protect.

I looked back up at his face. This time his expression was stone and serious.

“You make a compelling case, Detective! You have an office, don’t you? Let me see how legit you really are. Let me meet your Dear Monica. Then I’ll make the decision.” I played with my hair and watched the pure glee appear on his face.

“Certainly!” He squealed. “I’ll hail us a cab!” He barreled through the park, towards the street. Almost knocking down a young man.

“Watch where you are going my dear man. Or are you in such a hurry you’ve forgotten basic manners?”

“Sorry!” Adam yelled back at him. “I got a new assistant!”