Herby, floral scents wafted through the cramped workshop, blending with the gentle illumination of candlelight. Juniper carefully measured ingredients with a concentrated expression, paying extra care with their hard earned trophy of the night, the azure glowbell. Beads of sweat formed along Juniper's brow as they distilled the essence of a single petal into their concoction using a weathered retort.
"I'll find a way to help you," Leif had said before the two parted ways at Juniper's front door. Juniper had reluctantly accepted the man's help, after all, there were bloodfiends in the region now. "I'll come back once I figured something out, 'kay?"
Disappointment sank into Juniper's stomach like an anchor at sea. It pulled their thoughts down into the deep unknowable depths, but despite that, Juniper pushed those thoughts deep down. They needed to focus on the task at hand.
Juniper cautiously stepped down the hall and crept up the stairs holding the labor of their hard work. They sidestepped around piles of books, boxes, and other clutter until they reached the side of a four-poster bed. Laying there was an old dwarven man, Thistleheart. A wedge of pillows propped him up, resting his body against the bed. His pale skin was a far cry from his usually tawny skin. Deep lines in his forehead and between his brows marked him as an old man, though his current state aged him even further.
Though not kin, Thistleheart became Juniper's guardian after Rowan's death. It was an unexpected turn of events as he had come to save Rowan's life only to be given the child instead. Though he had never been a father before, Thistleheart adjusted quickly. Even though Thistleheart could have easily passed for Juniper's grandpa by human standards, Juniper knew that he was the right age for an older, dwarven dad, so a few years ago they decided to start referring to him as such.
From their pocket, Juniper produced a small, flat stone, square in shape, and placed it onto the nightstand nearby. They touched it methodically and closed their eyes, surrendering a small amount of mana to the stone. Atop the stone, an etched rune began to glow a soft blue color. It read boil in the ancient language.
"I wonder if that's why I have a hard time using other instruments..." Juniper thought aloud as they placed a small pot directly atop the smooth, warm stone. As the stone heated up, Juniper began to pour the potion they had made earlier into the pot. The pungent, earthy scent of herbs filled the air as, slowly at first, a wispy white mist formed and rose up into the air. The magical stone vaporized water much more quickly than a regular stove could. "Hah... I have just enough mana to turn on a boiler."
Juniper had a singular purpose in life, and that was to heal others. They devoted every moment to their craft. Since the moment their father died of the plague, Juniper combed through every book in their father's study, taking meticulous notes, and experimenting with alchemical ingredients until their hands were stained with ink and their clothes smelt of putrid mixtures. They voraciously consumed medical journals, wrote letters to esteemed doctors and alchemists alike, and even tested remedies on themselves. Through it all, Juniper never lost sight of why they pursued this path—to cure others before they died untimely deaths.
Three years ago, when Juniper was twenty-three, they felt like their life had reached its peak. Working as a physician in the small village of their hometown, they were earning the admiration and trust of all those who came through their clinic doors. Every sickness they encountered—whether it be common colds or mysterious fevers—they treated with care and precision, ensuring each patient left feeling better than when they arrived. The villagers showered them with compliments and admiration and Juniper couldn't help but feel that life couldn't get any better.
Yet, a lingering uneasiness gnawed at the back of Juniper's mind whenever they caught a glimpse of themselves. A chill ran through their body like they had been plunged into icy water. No matter how successful or joyous their day was, the moment Juniper looked at themselves an inexplicable dread and guilt settled over them. The feeling was so powerful it felt like even a deep breath wouldn’t be enough to escape it.
Juniper had felt a fraction of this feeling their whole life, but had always managed to stay distracted enough it wouldn't bother them. Then it felt like their skin prickled and crawled as if it didn't fit them properly anymore. Juniper's mind filled with questions: why this feeling? How could everything seem perfect yet still feel wrong?
Thistleheart spoke one night with Juniper, who was deliberating over the elements for a deadly concoction. When he learned why Juniper was doing this, Thistleheart expressed something that was clear as day to him, but completely unheard of by humans. He said, "Juni, your value doesn't come from what everyone else wants; rather, it lies within the unconditional love and acceptance you can give yourself. The body you inhabit may have had a certain origin, but you are the only one who knows who you truly are."
That night, something changed for Juniper, though it took them a while to work out what that meant. They didn't want to be referred to as either male or female--their expression of self felt like neither. As a test, they started wearing different clothes and changing the way they referred to themselves around Thistleheart, who was happy to support their self-exploration. Thistleheart told them that the dwarves from Arcadia believed there were more ways of expressing themselves than stars in the sky, but with time this tradition started to die out after the Arcadian empire invaded and colonized the Dragonspine Mountains.
Juniper wore their gendered mask in the village, but at home relaxed. In the comfort of their own home, they emerged as a new person and experienced genuine joy. Their heart rejoiced. Yet they craved for more. They longed for others to know and accept them for who they really were. Though unconventional, they had proven their worth by helping every family in the village. At worst, it would be the odd, older man who shouts buffoonery, right?
Stolen story; please report.
Then that day came. Juniper realized that day how easily respect, once earned, could be taken away. They were still needed but the respect was gone, and it overwhelmed them. They tried to resume their false identity for the sake of peace, but playing the role felt like insects crawling on them. Although the villagers mocked them for trying to become someone neither feminine nor masculine, Juniper kept aspiring to survive no matter what.
All the same, they longed to reclaim the respect they'd previously held. That's when Juniper came to understand that becoming a doctor wouldn't be enough: they had to wield power. Like the adventurers in town, because even the most unpleasant among them still commanded more respect than someone who played a role serving the entire village.
As a potential healer thanks to their mana-typing, if Juniper could learn even a single healing spell, they could not only regain the respect they lost for coming out, but they could continue to help the village out to the best of their abilities. The outcome of that situation would be beneficial for everyone involved.
If only I could learn another damn spell...
Juniper watched as the mist began to fill the small room, drifting slowly towards the old man in bed. As it made contact with his skin, Thistleheart stirred gently and breathed easier. His brows relaxed and he sank back into a peaceful sleep. Juniper smiled wearily at him, relieved that they could help repay one of the debts they owed him twice over. They were grateful for Leif's help in getting back home alive.
"He wouldn't have run away," Juniper said, their expression softening. "Father, I wish Leif had been there instead of that idiot adventurer. Then you wouldn't be in bed like this... and we could have sold that azure bluebell."
Memories of two days ago came to mind, when they'd gone out with a hired adventurer to get necessary supplies. Snap typically joined them on these trips, which Juniper wasn't too happy about. Still, Snap was the best physiker in Hearthwood and vouched for this new adventurer, claiming he had enough strength to keep them safe from monsters that usually populate around the area.
They had traveled the same, familiar overgrown path, but Juniper noticed it first—a lack of natural ambience. No birds sang and no insects hummed. Before Juniper could issue a warning, the foolish adventurer stepped face first into motionless figures disguising themselves as natural flora. Shadebriers, small and thorny creatures that watered themselves with the blood of living creatures, pounced the unwitting adventurer.
"Get them off!" He shrieked as he clawed at his face, prying off the small, stick-like creatures and throwing them off.
Juniper dove into the fray, batting away the sinister shadebriers with their bare hands. Desperately punching and pushing them off the adventurer, Juniper was met by their shrieks of rage. Despite the adventurer's yelps of pain from Juniper's panicked strikes, they felt certain he would prefer the sting of their fists to whatever torture these fiends intended.
Thistleheart, an out-of-practice physiker, tapped into his well of mana and stomped on the creatures with carefully placed steps. Shadebriers hopped onto the dwarf's body, but their sharp stems snapped in the presence of his golden aura.
"Ye won't be gettin' off easy, ye wee punks!" A dark brown blur appeared in the shadows. Thistleheart shouted as he swept his arm at several of the twig creatures who had sprung toward him, trying to pounce all at once. The dwarf was able to radiate such a potent strength due to the aura which the spell harden granted him. Several of the twig creatures snapped from the sheer force. "Get behind me, Juniper, let the lad figure it out! You're a physiker too, ain't ye?"
"Right!" Juniper took a step back and redirected their focus towards their satchel as they dug through it, desperately trying to find the vial they had in mind.
The adventurer managed to free himself from the last shadebrier on his body and shouted, "There's too many! We need to run!"
"Run? N' how is n' old man like myself going to run from these little monsters?" Thistleheart's brow furrowed as he turned his head to glare at the green adventurer. His frame seemed to swell with anger, his fists clenched tight with rage as he brought it against a shadebrier crawling up his leg. "I don't have haste, ye nincompoop!"
The adventurer's face was pale with fear as he eyed the dozens of tiny monsters surrounding Juniper and Thistleheart. "S-Sounds like a you problem!" He stammered as he turned on his heel and sprinted away, the sound of his boots pounding the dirt.
"Get back here, ye idiot!" Thistleheart openly gawked for only a moment before the shadebriers reminded him what he needed to pay attention to. "Juni! Ye best have a solution in that bag o' yours. If not, ye best run too—" Thistleheart started to wheeze as he hopped in front of Juniper as a shadebrier thought to jump them as they were distracted.
Aha! Juniper had thought when they wrapped their fingers around the vial full of reddish powder. The alchemist's thoughts raced as they quickly and skillfully utilized the last of their ruby petals into a makeshift bomb.
In a frantic moment, Juniper used their surging adrenaline to propel themselves forward just as Thistleheart landed on his butt, his golden harden aura fading away. Before the shadebriers could attack one last time, Juniper threw the bomb at their center.
The vial shattered upon impact, causing an instantaneous and violent reaction that unleashed a powerful explosion. The twig monsters that were outside the center of the blast radius found themselves completely aflame and soon perished.
Face covered in soot from the explosion, Juniper turned to cheer, but instead found Thistleheart leaning against a tree, unable to catch his breath. With much effort, the two came home as quickly as they could without triggering another asthma attack.
Juniper let out a deep sigh as the memory flooded back to them. "If only I knew one healing spell… it would have made everything so much easier for us, especially during that asthma attack," they said, their voice trailing off in sadness. Juniper turned their head away from Thistleheart and caught a glimpse of themselves in an old mirror, barely illuminated by a flickering candle. They frowned, realizing that they were the source of all their troubles. "But who am I kidding? I can't even learn a single new spell."