Juniper winced as they sat up in bed, their muscles protesting with every movement and their raven curls cascading onto their shoulders and back. Rubbing their weary eyes, Juniper let out a deep breath and stretched their arms and back. “What’s the point in trying to stay asleep…” they murmured to themselves, massaging their eyes. Finding the motivation to move, Juniper got up from their bed. They took off their silky nightgown and looked into the full body mirror.

Staring into the mirror, Juniper saw a doll. A small woman’s body with curves, the eyes empty, the lips flat in a neutral expression. Every morning, Juniper looked to gauge how they felt. On some days, Juniper inhabited this body and felt at home. Most of the time, this body was merely the vessel by which they explored the world.

The small human couldn’t explain it to anyone aside from less than a handful of others. The villagers didn’t understand them, though these days things had gotten better. Most villagers simply considered Juniper an odd bird and ignored how they dressed. Only a few were still nasty towards them.

What would he think?

Juniper bound up their chest to flatten their breasts. Following that, they threw on a plain shirt and dark pants. Though Juniper understood most people who didn’t know them would think of them as a man, Juniper felt their appearance looked androgynous. Juniper felt a strange sense of pride whenever a stranger momentarily questioned what Juniper’s gender was under their breaths.

The herbalist lit a small fire pit in the heart of the room, the warmth of the flames washing over them. Suddenly, a knocking interrupted them. Who could that be at this hour?

"Dr. Thistleheart! Please, open the door!" Juniper heard the voice of a man through the door, a melodic yet gruff tone that carried a hint of desperation.

They rushed to the door and opened it. Two parents stood in the doorway. Juniper could see the sweat dripping down their faces, the exhaustion and fear evident on their worn features. The father had a crushing grip on his daughter's limp body as they both begged desperately for help. The mother's eyes brimmed with tears and her voice shook when she said, "Please, please, help us miss! She won't wake up!"

Juniper's mouth formed a tight line as the word "miss" left the trio's lips. The father of the girl shot her a glance that was equal parts contempt and inquiry. His dark brown eyes held an air of disapproval and his lips were pursed, barely concealing his contempt. Juniper could feel the tension radiating off him as they stepped aside for the three of them to enter.

The alchemist answered without prompting, their voice like a steady beat of a metronome, clear and authoritative. "The doctor is recovering from something right now. Please, have a seat." Juniper ushered the parents towards the benches at the middle of the common room; they seated themselves opposite Juniper, facing each other across the fire in the hearth. The fire in the hearth pops and crackles, providing ambient warmth. The father stood rigidly, his gaze fixed on Juniper, suspicion plain on his face. Despite him, Juniper continued. "Tell me everything you've noticed about your daughter's condition."

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The mother sat in silent apprehension, her knuckles white from gripping her hands together. Her eyes darted between the floor and her husband's face, searching for assurance that Juniper could be trusted with this task. After a few moments, she gave a slight nod of approval and Juniper opened the journal, their pen hovering over the blank pages.

The father's voice quivered slightly as he recounted the past week. "She's been sleepy, more tired than usual. But in the last few days, it's gotten worse. This morning, no matter how hard we tried, she just wouldn't wake up."

Juniper leaned forward, their eyes focused on their paper, and their lips pursed in thoughtful concentration. Once he finished speaking, Juniper took a deep breath and began formulating a diagnosis. They ran through a short list of ailments, and asked them a simple follow-up question, "Has your daughter possibly spontaneously learned a spell?" The mother gasped as the father's eye twitched. So, she's had an awakening. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. This is just so I can diagnose her properly. You don't have to tell me what it is, but was she casting that spell a lot? Did you give her a proper implement for the spell?"

"You sure ask a lot of questions..." The father's voice was tinged with indignation as he questioned Juniper, stepping menacingly closer, but Juniper refused to be intimidated. Juniper could feel their heart racing and their stomach knotting, but kept their gaze level. They had a hunch what the issue was but needed the older man to admit it before they could act. Finally, he relented. "Yes, she was. We have a wand that has passed down through the generations. It's seen better days, sure, but it still works just fine."

"I won't pry any further, but hearing that she did use the spell often and her other symptoms lead me to believe she is suffering from arcane somnium." Juniper spoke with a level, measured tone, devoid of any emotion except for a clear, resolute confidence in the words they were saying. "The fatigue is a sign that her mana is draining faster than her body can naturally recover. When mages push themselves to the limit over and over using poor implements, they tend to suffer from arcane somnium."

The father's voice shook with fury as he spat words at Juniper. "What makes you think that's what it is? How can I trust you when you're not even a proper doctor or woman?"

Juniper felt a sharp stab of pain at the father's accusations, but they steeled their resolve. No matter how much it hurt, nothing mattered more than saving the child. "Regardless of how you feel about me, sir, I am well-versed in ailments both magical and mundane as well as their treatments. I helped your wife deliver this very child, or do you not remember?"

He shifted on his feet, struggling to keep eye contact and his confidence in check when Juniper spoke. He stammered, desperately searching for the perfect words that would make Thistleheart come down the stairs.

"Your daughter needs immediate treatment. Time is of the essence here, as people who reach this stage of arcane somnium last a week at best, and that's an assessment made about adults." Juniper rose from the chair, their voice firm and terse as they stared him down with a look of determined authority. They continued to speak as they grabbed their satchel and cap. "I treated Thistleheart last night. You may wait here until he awakens and he can tell you what I've already said. I'm off to fetch the supplies I need to cure what ails her."

With the final words spoken, Juniper left the home.