The patrons that came to Zorro's shop were truly foolhardy. Yona had to force herself not to roll her eyes all the way to the back of her skull every time someone with way too much perfume came in asking for a love potion.
Love potions didn't exist, but Zorro advertised them like they did. In truth, they were just stuffed with aphrodisiacs and, more often than not, if these simple people believed something would work, it usually did. Sometimes, Yona would just put mint-scented water in the bottles to see what would happen. She almost fell off the ladder when the woman she sold it to came back the next week raving about how the man who ran the butcher shop down the street asked her on a date after she wore the potion as perfume.
Zorro wasn't pleased when Yona, startled from utter disbelief, dropped a large stack of papers all over the floor and had to reorganize them from page one.
She tried the same thing with Suoh once. She put basic ingredients into a potion and told him to drink it, claiming it would melt the ice within his veins. She had watched him like a hawk for days after that and when nothing happened, she silently reprimanded herself for even thinking a trick that worked on these deep city folks would work on her brother who spent his free time reading and learning everything he possibly could.
Or maybe it was as simple as him not believing her when she said it would work.
"Don't be so damn heavy-handed, girl," Zorro snarled as he grabbed Yona's wrist, pulling it away from the large pot of a potion that worked to combat upset stomachs and nausea. She dropped the ginger root and hissed as Zorro twisted her wrist in a way it wasn't supposed to be twisted.
"Ow—! Let go of me, you ape," Yona shouted, rubbing her wrist after she managed to wiggle it free from Zorro's meaty fist.
Zorro was a stout man as wide as he was tall. His deep black beard was long and unbrushed, the only hair the man had, and it always managed to get stuck on the belt that held his robes together. The man dressed like a wealthy priest, but Yona knew he was just a made-up con artist. Zorro claimed to be an alchemist, but what this man did with ingredients wasn't alchemy. Not that she'd ever tell him that, not when he was paying her twenty silvers a week to restock his potions.
Oh how she wished she could teach him a thing or two about the beauty of the plants that grew in Verna's lush forest.
Zorro clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, looking at Yona down his nose like he always did when she was sitting down and, for once, below his eye level. The moment she stood up, she'd be able to look down her nose at him.
"You know how expensive that ginger root is, girl?" He clicked his tongue again. "Of course you don't. Girl from the slums like you has probably never seen enough silver to buy medicine. Isn't that why I caught you stealing from the store room last fortnight?"
"You were going to toss it," Yona countered under her breath, the corners of her mouth pulled down in a deep frown.
Zorro huffed, his cheeks turning bright red. “Watch your mouth when you talk to me or I'll toss you back out on the street. Now get back to work. We'll be busier today with the imperial princess's coronation tour.”
Yona bit down hard on her tongue until she tasted metal, turning her back to Zorro and pretending to focus on the ginger root until she heard him stomp his way back to the main storefront. Oh how she wished she could kick him where it would hurt the most. It was only a matter of time now. She only had to put up with Zorro for a few more moon cycles and then she would be free. She just had to save up enough silvers for Suoh and she would be gone, on the hunt for a Ghoulim.
Suoh would be furious; she knew that much. Just thinking about it made Yona fidgety with anxiety, knowing that he would be heartbroken when he woke one morning to find he was alone, left with only a bag of silver and a note.
A few weeks was all she needed to save up enough coin for Suoh to survive on his own for a time. If he left the apartment only at night and kept his hair covered, no one would pay him any attention. If he stuck to the tavern streets where most patrons were drunk out of their wits, they would probably think he was simply wearing a wig to protect his identity. It would be fine. She would get the blood and save her brother. It would all work out. That was what she kept telling herself, for the other possibility was too horrible to even fathom.
Letting out a shaky breath, Yona turned her attention back to cutting the ginger root into four small pieces. She knew that wouldn't be enough to calm even the smallest of stomach upsets, but that was exactly why she wasn't a patron of this shop.
She wasn't sure how many minutes went by before Zorro came tumbling back down the stairs, swinging the door open so hard the wood almost came off the hinges. "Girl," he called, tossing a torn piece of parchment in front of Yona. Every time he called her girl, she had to resist the urge to grab his knotted beard and shove his boorish face right into the brewing potions. She was a woman of over two decades, certainly not a girl, but men like Zorro used words to try to assert dominance in places they normally had none. Yona doubted a woman—or a man—would have enough self-loathing to let Zorro lay a single greasy finger on them, so he had to get his stress and frustration out somehow—and he chose berating his one and only employee. "I need these ingredients by sundown. If you're so much as a minute late—"
"You'll lock me out," Yona finished, standing from her chair and glancing at the ridiculously long list. She would have to go all the way to the south side of the city to get some of these. Sometimes she wondered if Zorro really needed these things or if he was just being an ass by sending her on such a lengthy errand.
Zorro shifted his weight from one foot to the other, lifting his chin when Yona's height surpassed his own. "Right then. Well … good thing you know."
And then Zorro was gone and Yona finally let herself roll her eyes.
She grabbed her cloak from the hook on the wall and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling the hood up over her head to hide her features. She stuffed the crumpled note in one of the large pockets and left the shop through the back door.
Zorro's apothecary was located in the middle of one of Verna's northern, multi-level cities. Four centuries ago, after a large baby boom, architects and builders made the more populated areas of the kingdom two levels. The Above sat on the surface of the earth while the Below was built inside deep trenches that stretched for miles. Yona looked up as soon as she exited the shop, greeted by tall buildings, signs, stairs, and bridges. The sky was barely visible behind the pointed architecture. The Below was less desirable, usually overpopulated with the less wealthy, working folks, many of whom spent every waking moment of their lives plowing the rice fields located at the eastern coast or selling their wares in carts they pushed through the cities. The people who did the hardest work for the smallest amount of silver. The wealthy seldom came Below; the only time they did was to visit shops like Zorro's or the brothels.
There was a time, when she was really desperate, that Yona considered finding a job in one of the brothels, but something akin to fear kept her from opening that door.
Fear and the silly, blind hope that the only one she'd give her body to was someone who loved her as much as she loved him.
The streets were crowded, the afternoon sun warm through the cloak. Spending time with Suoh tended to make Yona forget that it was actually late into the spring season, the sweltering months right around the corner. But despite the warmth, she tugged the hood further over her head and stepped out onto the bustling roads.
The streets were busier than normal in preparation for the imperial princess's arrival. People weaved in and out and around each other, children giggling as they chased each other through long skirts and moving legs. Shopkeepers stood on ladders and trellises to hang strings of expertly weaved flowers from one side of the trenches to the other. Yona didn't know much about the emperor's family, but she knew enough to know that Princess Iseul was beloved by all and her coronation was highly anticipated, especially since she was to visit each and every sub-city and village to greet the people she would be ruling. Iseul was rumored to be kindhearted and beautiful, many of Verna's young men desperate to get an audience with her. She was said to be a distant descendant from Great Empress Alida who saved Verna from being destroyed by magic, a rightful heir to the throne. Yona never cared much for the politics, too focused on protecting Suoh, but as she passed the hustle and bustle of excited people, she couldn't stop the sudden contagious bounce in her step as she made her way to the south city.
Men shouted orders at each other from across the trenches, their voices blending into a cacophony of noise that Yona tried to block out. It wasn't that she hated seeing people out and about the city, happy and excited; it was that she hated that they could be so carefree while Suoh had to live a life of solitude locked in their tiny apartment.
Yona's nails dug into her palms as she walked, trying to swallow the rising hatred like a stale piece of bread. Focus on the errand, she reminded herself. Stewing in her own anger would only make her more miserable; instead, she focused that energy into the determination she needed to save her brother.
Getting the ingredients on Zorro's list was a thoughtless, monotonous task. Yona went through the motions, but, mentally, she was somewhere else entirely. Then, as the sun was beginning to set, a cool breeze making its way through the trenches like a slithering serpent, Yona found herself standing in front of the last destination. Frowning, she puffed her cheeks and sighed heavily. This particular seller was … difficult to deal with.
But Yona knew if she didn't come back with the mandrakes on the list, Zorro would be even more insufferable than the woman she knew was sitting just behind that curtained window, ready to test Yona's patience.
Yona couldn't remember a time she had a pleasant interaction with Mistress Soojin, mostly because Yona refused to call her Mistress.
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Steeling herself for the inevitable, Yona climbed the steps that led to her plant shop and opened the door, the soft jingle of a bell announcing her arrival.
The shop was a cluttered maze of greenery. Plants lined the wooden shelves and walls, unsorted and piled so close together that they threatened to spill over with the simple brush of a shoulder. It smelled like the forest, an admittedly pleasant smell that always seemed to transport Yona back to her childhood when she would spend every waking moment of daylight exploring the forest and discovering all the different plant life it was home to. When the sun set and she couldn't be out anymore, Yona would document everything she saw in a little notebook, subconsciously creating a guide to Verna's vegetation with hands still round with baby fat. That was before her father died and she and Suoh were left alone, the sudden crash of responsibility taking every last part of her carefree childhood away from her.
Yona shook her head. Thoughts of her father never led anywhere productive, so she shoved them away.
In actuality, it was a shop like this that she wished she could work in, one where plants were used to create medicines and balms, but simple medicines like this couldn't help Suoh, so she pushed that silent desire to the back of her mind and instead focused her attention on the stronger science of alchemy.
The sweet aroma of incense filled Yona's senses, making her dizzy. But she followed the scent to the back of the shop where Soojin sat behind a large counter heavily cluttered with open books, loose herbs, and tools used to mash leaves and seeds into pastes. Her dark hair was tied in an intricate knot at the base of her neck, adorned with beads and jewels. Her nails, long and always painted a deep read, lightly tapped the counter as she absentmindedly flipped through a book, not reading the words before she flipped the page. She knew Yona was there—she always knew—but she didn't bother looking up from her book, her almond-shaped eyes decorated with charcoal remaining downcast.
"One moment," she said, disinterested, as she held up a single finger.
Yona bit down on her tongue to keep from screaming. She was short-tempered—she knew that—and Soojin loved to point that out every time Yona's patience ran thin, so she took a few deep breaths and made sure to remain calm.
Soojin made a display of loudly turning another page before slowly looking up and meeting Yona's eyes. "Hello again, Yona of the Song family," she said, her voice wispy, her lips curling into a faint grin. "What can I help you with today?"
Yona shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her peripheral vision blocked by the hood still pulled over her head. "Zorro needs mandrakes," she said. "Do you have any?"
"Mandrakes?" she repeated, pursing her lips. Soojin stood up from the chair, fixing her extravagant hanbok. "I might have some. Did he tell you what he needs them for?"
Yona frowned. "You know he didn't."
Soojin clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, the disapproving sound making Yona's blood boil. Soojin let out an exasperated sigh as if walking around the counter was too much work for her, and led Yona to the back room where the greenhouse was.
The greenhouse was small and densely packed, the sudden humidity causing Yona's hair to stick to the back of her neck with sweat, but she kept her cloak on and the hood up, ignoring the sudden moisture that appeared on her upper lip. She recognized almost all the plants as ones she'd seen in the forest growing up: lavender for stress relief, aloe to apply to burned skin, zingabil for coughs (though it didn't work on Suoh's coughing fits), ginger for nausea, echinacea for colds, astragalus propinquus to strengthen the immune system.
Yona ran her fingers over a group of chamomile flowers as she followed Soojin to the back of the greenhouse. Her mouth twitched into the ghost of a smile, thinking about how much Suoh loved chamomile tea and how it seemed to clear the rasp of his lungs, if only for a moment.
Soojin stopped at the back of the shop, Yona moving beside her to get a look of the mandrake plants growing next to the window. They looked like normal, leafy plants from the outside, but Yona knew that once they were pulled up from the dirt, their roots would closely resemble a human body. Yona found the roots to be quite creepy, if she were being honest with herself, but they were popular ingredients in a lot of Zorro's potions despite the fact that the mandrake was, essentially, a poison. In small doses, it acted as a hallucinogenic and a narcotic, something the more well-off patrons in need of a fix paid for in bulk.
The problem with buying in bulk, of course, was overdosing, and Yona knew all too well how horrific a mandrake overdose was.
"How many does he need?" Soojin asked, her voice snapping Yona out of her thoughts.
"Five." She didn't need to check the note; she memorized it hours ago.
Soojin raised a judgmental brow, but said nothing as she pulled a set of dirty—yet also elegant with their swirling designs—pair of gloves over her slender hands and uprooted five of the plants. She gathered them together like a disturbing bouquet and held them up by the leaves, their little, distorted bodies sending an uncomfortable shiver down Yona's spine. "These alright?"
Yona nodded, just wanting her to put the plants down, letting out a breath of relief when she dropped the hand holding them to her hip, the mandrake roots dangling at her side like five severed heads held by the hair—
"You'll pay me up front," Soojin said blandly, shouldering past Yona and back out of the greenhouse.
Yona followed, taking her time as she committed the greenhouse to memory. Oh how she wished she had her own greenhouse. Then she could go to the forest, find seeds and plants and make her own garden. She could hardly afford to buy a few ginger roots let alone an entire building, but she could still cling to hope and the dream of opening her own herbal medicine shop, one that even the poorest of the poor could afford; that way, no one would have to suffer through pain or sickness.
In her ideal future, she and Suoh would run the shop together, Yona tending to the garden while Suoh played gentle melodies on the piano, enchanting patrons and plants alike.
Before she could stop herself, Yona realized she was smiling.
The cooler air of the main shop was a welcome change, cooling her sweat-streaked skin. Yona followed Soojin back to the desk and looked everywhere but at the mandrakes as the woman neatly wrapped them in brown parchment. She was glad to rid her vision of those deformed plants.
"That'll be twenty gold," Soojin said, her eyes scanning Yona. "You do have the gold, right? The last time I let that damn Zorro make a tab, he nearly bled me dry, the weasel."
Yona had to agree with Soojin there. Weasel was the perfect word to describe Zorro.
Pulling out a small pouch from her pocket, Yona nodded. She tossed the pouch onto the counter and Soojin immediately opened it to count the coins inside. Satisfied that there were exactly twenty pieces of gold, she stuffed the pouched in the pocket of her skirt and pushed the mandrake roots across the counter. Yona wrapped her fingers around the package, the hair on her arms standing on end, her mind screaming at her to get as far away from the roots as possible.
"Thank you for your patronage," Soojin grumbled as she turned her attention back to her book.
Yona was about to turn on her heel and make her way out of the shop when something stopped her. It was a nameless something, a small itch at the back of her mind that demanded to be scratched.
"Soojin?" When the woman didn't so much as glance up from the book, Yona swallowed her pride and her anger and added, "Mistress Soojin?"
That was when Soojin looked up. "Yes, Yona of the Song family?"
Yona flinched. She hated being referred to as a part of a bigger family, especially since her only family was Suoh and only she knew about his existence. Everyone else believed her to be an unmarried woman nearing her spinster years, her family consisting of her and her alone. In a way, it was a way for Soojin to throw judgment at Yona for not choosing a more 'acceptable' life path.
Trying to ignore Soojin, Yona, her heart in her throat, said, "What do you know of human hybrids?"
Something in Soojin's expression shifted—hardened. There was a rumor that her first husband from when she was even younger than Yona fell to the hands of a Ghoulim. It was merely a rumor, one Yona heard on a night Zorro was angry with Soojin and got a little too drunk on spirits. Soojin never mentioned this supposed first husband, completely dismissing Yona with a lecture about nosiness when she was naive enough to ask her about it directly. "What do I know about them? I know they're monsters that need to be exterminated. The elves and the Snakeskins are extinct. It's only a matter of time before the Ghoulim are, too."
Yona's mouth was dry, her heart thumping. "Do you know how to kill one? A Ghoulim."
Soojin's shoulders tensed, a frown deeming the wrinkles around Soojin's mouth. “Why are you asking me this?”
Yona pressed her lips together and lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Just simple curiosity.”
“Well, extinguish that curiosity,” Soojin said, slamming her book closed with so much force that the jars of herbs and spices on the counter rattled. “It’ll get you killed. Now if you have nothing else to purchase, kindly leave my shop.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“Get. Out.” If Soojin’s harsh tone wasn’t enough to get Yona moving, the intense glare she received from her was, so Yona just offered a simple bow of apology and left the shop, the jingle of the bell ringing loudly as the door closed behind her.
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The apartment was dark and quiet and Yona returned. The moon was already high in the sky, her body begging her to change her clothes and get into bed. Her feet ached from walking throughout the city and her head ached from constantly trying to think of ways to kill a Ghoulim. Yona had never seen one of the creatures with her own two eyes, but she heard the stories about how they were born from shadow and chaos, roaming Verna in search of lost souls.
Just because they were immortal and didn’t age didn’t mean they couldn’t be killed.
Yona traipsed through the main room and went into the bedroom, glancing at Suoh’s bed. Relief washed through her when she saw he was already asleep, his shoulders rising and falling with each steady breath. His lungs weren’t too raspy tonight, though his breath was visible with each exhale, which meant that maybe Yona would be able to get a full night’s sleep.
Letting out a breath through her nose, Yona quietly made her way to her bed and pulled off the clothes she’d been wearing—and sweating in—all day, changing into a pair of wool pants and a cotton shirt. It was warm outside their apartment, but inside it was cold. She crawled into the bed and pulled the sheets over her, turning onto her side so she was facing the wall.
Sleep found her quickly, but it was plagued with nightmares of ice and blood and Yona found herself gasping awake not too long after, the room still dark as she pushed her hair out of her face.
“Same one again?”
Yona took a deep breath to calm herself and turned to look at Suoh. He was lying down, facing her. Even in the darkness, Yona knew he was frowning.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “I’m fine. I just need some water.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare toes cold as they touched the floor. She made it all the way to the door before Suoh spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m sorry. You have nightmares because of me,” he said and Yona tensed. “I’m okay, though,” he added, more softly this time. “I’m still alive.”
Yona looked at Suoh over her shoulder, his silver hair a knotted mess on one side and flat on the other.
I’m going to cure you, she thought, determined. You’ll be angry with me—may even hate me for a while. But as long as my heart is beating and breath fills my lungs, I’m never going to stop until you can finally live the life you deserve.
But Yona didn’t say any of that. Instead, she smiled and said, “I know.”