I looked at Anna, and she smelled of blood.

It was subtle. I had been smelling it all day, little trails of it were coming off of Anna. Whatever it was, it was small. She was not visibly bleeding, she didn’t have any cuts on her that I could see, and she didn’t have any on her clothes. I had given her a massage, and I had not noticed.

“Anna,” I started, “You are bleeding?” I asked her. I was fairly sure I got my words mixed up, but I didn’t particularly care about my words.

I looked Anna over, but she was not different from before, no sudden flows of blood, nor bloom of it in her clothes. She did not suddenly burst into a red plume in the air.

I felt dumb thinking that was a thing that could happen, but I was having a bad week. The universe seemed like it could suddenly kill the only person I knew. But she seemed fine maybe a little tense, but that was all.

She looked at me while I checked her over. And was confused.

“What blood? No blood.” She told me.

She was totally oblivious to the smell, which was not surprising, she was Human, and as a Kobold, I had a better sense of smell. The fact that she was oblivious to it was, if anything, a relief. It meant she wasn’t just hiding a wound, pretending to be fine while she was hurt.

While it was a relief; it was also paradoxically, even scarier. Because it meant that she was bleeding and didn’t know it. She might be dying. The people I care about have been doing a lot of that.

I placed my hands on her shoulders and looked right into her beautiful eyes, “Anna, you smell like blood. Are you good? Hurt? Need help?”

Anna had saved my life, or rather, she had saved me from possible unending suffering. If I had to get to the city right now, I would keep going until I got there, even if I had to crawl over iron spikes to do it.

Her confusion turned to concern, but it wasn’t for herself. She looked at me like I was a slightly unhinged person, not in an unkind way, but like I had just gotten hit over the head and was confused.

“Saphine, I am good, no hurt, no blood.” She told me, carefully annunciating each set of words to drive home her confusion.

I let go of her shoulder with one hand and pulled back a bit to not crowd her. I tapped my nose with one finger to get my point across, “good smell, can smell blood,” I told her, taking my finger to point at her.

She looked at my nose, her eyes slightly crossed as she possessed that. Then nodded, seeming to think for a moment. I could tell because Anna got that look where she seemed to squint off in a direction like she was a craftsman scrutinizing their work. It took her some ten seconds of that glassy glare, which was still cute, lacking intensity or the emptiness of someone who had seen too much, before she seemed to think of something.

The look on her face told me she was annoyed, not at me, but at the situation. That told me two things, she was likely not going to die like she was in a tragedy, and this was something that she had encountered before. That finally took the edge off.

“De, uh…” I started thinking of the words, actively putting them together in my head, “Know what is happening? Know why blood, er, bleed?” I asked.

She came back to paying attention to me in a jerk of focus, following it with a sigh and a nod.

“Good wordaj,” she told me, giving me a new modifier that my brain took an interest in, “I know why blood.”

I placed my free hand against my chest and let out my breath, loosening my other hand on her.

That is a relief, she knows what to do and I can help out in any way that I can, Anna will be fine.

She started nodding and said, in a simple tone, “Now I suffer.”

I looked at her.

What does she mean suffer? Wait, no I don’t want her to suffer, she’s an adorable angel, damn it.

“Why do you say?” I asked her slowly.

“Happens every month,” she told me in a calm, sagely voice, “Now I suffer.”

What the hell does she mean?

“Can help? Explain.” I asked her.

She shook her head, a little confusion entering her face and voice.

“Woman thing, every month. You get.” She told me.

I didn’t know what she was talking about.

Something that happened to women every month. Was it, like, a Human thing? I think I remember something about that. I remember my mom mentioning something about it, too, I think, although that was when I was younger before I was in the church.

I wish she was being less cryptic, is she saying she bleeds once a month naturally, or is it like some kind of ritualistic thing? Is it magic? I don’t understand.

I shook my head in confusion.

The next twenty minutes shocked, confused, and overall put into context why Human women acted strangely for a while every month.

I ended up giving her a bit of a back rub, she dropped off her dress, and the smock she wore underneath was thin enough for me to get to her back, all be it not very well. It still ended up getting her relaxed enough to snooze off. Anna didn’t have a gigantic bosom, but it was still a weight on her front that caused stress for her back.

I could barely walk fully upright; I didn’t think I could climb the ladder to my room. So, I ended up snoozing after I sent Anna to dreamland, each of us back-to-back, tucked up under the blankets in her bed.

The next morning, the smell of blood was more noticeable, and Anna was slightly cranky. She woke up before I did, and I was an early riser.

I woke up when I felt magic and turned to it quick enough to see Anna pull some blood out of her sheets, which was… less than good.

She was cranky that morning, compared to how she was normally, she was the visage of pure crankiness. This was Anna I was talking about, so she was, like, a minorly cranky teenager, I suppose, but it was still one hell of a departure.

It was like watching someone like Kindly, who I had never seen angry, suddenly go into a violent frothing furry. It was like I had woken up in Bizarro land.

I was able to walk for the most part, I’ll be it very haltingly. It was like I was winded all the time, and if I walked for too long, I got woozy.

The smell of Anna bleeding was setting me on edge, her obvious discomfort cutting. That was before you tacked on the feeling of lethargy, and, just for kicks, it was giving me brain fog and a minor headache.

I was finally in the state of mind to think about the stone, which sat where I had put it down, a little to the side maybe. It was still in the bag, bits of rope around it where I had dropped it. I didn’t even remember taking it off, maybe I didn’t.

I could use some of Kindly’s tea, it could get rid of drowsiness and relieve tension. It could… Wait… WAIT.

I know how to make a tea that can relieve tension and help get rid of drowsiness. It was spring, I could go out and find them blooming, the buds were probably ready, and I could transplant them and grow them here. The flowers could be grown back up, they grow like weeds. I would have to wait a few days, I can just feel my passive skills, they will be back by tomorrow, I just need to dig up some today, and they will be good by tomorrow. Roots make up half of it, I can’t boost flowers, but the other skills and Anna’s together can have them growing like superweeds.

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Holy shit, I am a dumbass.

I started trying to remember everything about them, where they grew, how they grew. I couldn’t remember much, but there was a book one room over that would tell me how.

I ate breakfast with her, it was a bit slapdash, just like yesterday’s brunch, a gruel with some stuff added in. It was filling, and after, we sat and drank.

“Still no skill,” I told her, “I can’t help today, sorry.”

She was a bit peeked, but she nodded, “Yes, I understand. You need to do lots when back, though,” she told me. It wasn’t harsh, she just told me it; I could read the, ‘I can’t do what you do,’ in her statement.

I nodded before telling her, “Can do, going to get something, might help with tension.”

Anna was grumpy, but just because she was grumpy and less soft in her words, didn’t mean she was being harsh. I recognized, even if distantly, what she was likely feeling right now.

Then after our early breakfast, I hit the books. I devoured Anna’s tomes, reading and re-reading every passage multiple times, fixing the words in my head, and translating it until I was fairly certain that I had gotten the text right.

I was looking for two plants, they bloomed in early spring, which meant I could probably find them right now. I wasn’t sure what the date was, I didn’t even know if they had a calendar; presumably, they did. Things like harvests were time-sensitive, and equinoxes and seeding fields were too. Anyone that did agriculture soon realized that recording dates, at the bare minimum, was incredibly useful.

I found out that Yellow Bloom grew best in mild sunlight, and in loam. That, while not so useful, did describe most of the upper hills of the valley. Yellow Stalk was a bit pickier but basically wanted lower areas near a river. Lots of water and sunlight.

The city had a river, it was halfway built over one, but it would likely be a bit out. That still gave me every direction and then east and west-southwest. East was likely the easiest path. I would need to walk a little less to get to it, and it was out of the way, so I wouldn’t be walking around in the open, asking to be hit by everyone with a range weapon.

I just had to wait for the fog.

I kept checking for it, it felt like I did it every twenty seconds. I felt like I was rubbernecking at the bloody window, but the sun came out, and the fog rolled away, gone like it had never been there.

Anna went from the painting room to outside, and I got the old shovel. It was more likely to splinter, and I wouldn’t give Anna a splinter when she was already hurting; it would just be cruel.

I huffed and puffed, but I moved my rear down and out of the meadow around Anna’s house. I already knew everything that grew in her garden, if not by name, then by looks, and they were not there.

I started going through the woods.

It was uneventful, to say the least. I was expecting to bump into an animal, or an undead, or an overzealous hunter, or the armed forces of the darkness. This week had not been nice to me. But instead, I trekked through the forest, resting against trees to catch my breath.

It was nice, serine even.

I was too tense to enjoy it, but it was nice out today.

I was able to at least tell that while I took a little longer to get back up the thirtieth time I rested, the shovel and my clothes were the only things I had on me.

I didn’t even have my shoes.

I suppose I didn’t need them to walk around on loamy ground, the soft soil underfoot was like walking on Anna’s bed.

Oh shoot, I need to take a bath. Gods, there is no way I’m not rank.

I looked around from where I sat. The tree cover was less thick here, which should be a good place to find the yellow bloom.

I forgot a bag… I suppose I can carry them normally; I just can’t bring as many back as the potatoes.

There were no blooms in sight, but I got up after catching my breath. I used the shovel like a walking stick to help me get more distance, up small ridges of tree cover to I could get a good view.

It took me an hour of walking around when I found the first yellow bloom.

It was in a tiny fold of land, well-shaded by the trees above and the hills, it was a bit chilly there, not cold, but chill enough to keep the dew in the grass.

I got my feet wet, but I found them. It was a tiny section, but the flowers were tiny, each had only one or two stems with buds on them. They were just getting ready to flower, their buds not open to show off the yellow flowers. They would grow new shoots and flower over the spring, I just needed to plant them up in Anna’s grove.

The edge of the grove just in the trees would work, it was shaded, and they could propagate down the hill.

I took the spade and dug up a few before shaking off the dirt and going on to get closer to the river. They were small, two could fit in my hand, and I carried them in the crook of my left arm.

Finding my way near to the river, I walked on the high banks, following it north.

The river was not particularly large, likely an offshoot of the river that went through here down to the main river below back in my time.

Back then, this was cleared and relatively flat. The burning must have left the land open for erosion before the grass had regrown. The roots keep the land from going down into the river, or wind from kicking up a dust storm.

I couldn’t feel much with my senses right now, most of my skills were numb from the levelling, so I kept back from the edge where it was steep.

The river was probably large enough to get a small boat down it, and the banks were thriving with green. Fronds and ferns, taller grasses like reeds, grew well. They were thin, reaching up to get as much light as they could, some even growing up the bank, angled out over their brothers.

There were sections where there were lower, more greedy plants, leaching everything out so that other plants couldn’t grow into them.

I could see some yellow stalks halfway down the bank.

It was a kind of robust bush-height grass, the grass would grow, and as it did, the grass moved its pigments further up, leaving the stem yellow on the outside while the pith was alive.

I made my way over to the shallowest drop down the bank of the river.

Getting down, I slid a little before I got down, but I got down without flipping over and breaking my neck.

Wait, why am I so afraid? I can’t die… I suppose it does generally hurt, even if doing it repeatedly has given me pain tolerance.

Is that all? It hurts? I guess it’s just built in, just a reaction. I can think about that later, I have the two ingredients, and now I can make tea.

I dug it up, got the dirt off and tucked it into my arms. I could only get a bit because it was much larger, but it was more than enough, and I could probably get back here in a pinch.

I walked back south along the river, finding my way back up the embankment further down where the slope was easier.

I only had to rest twice but I got back to the edge of the clearing around New Moarn. I found my way back to Anna, who was on her midday break.

I was sweaty as hell, partially covered in dirt, with an armful of random plants and a shovel.

I dropped the shovel off and got the little trowel before I planted some of them off to the side, just little holes to let their roots take up a little water before I got back and rested for a bit.

“What did you get.” She asked me, sipping her water.

“Tea,” I told her, “Good, might help.”

“Tee?” She asked before we talked, and I confirmed that tea was, in fact, tea, or as Anna put it, ‘Tee.’

“Who taught you?” she asked me.

“Not taught, just know the ingredient, old priest,” I told her.

“Know how much of each? ‘Measures.’” She asked, using her hands to get the idea of amounts to me.

I… don’t umm, shoot.

“Umm, test?” I told her.

She smirked, “Sure, but you drink.”

I nodded before I got to it, I dragged the tub outside and got a wash while Anna looked over the pot inside. My clothes would have to wait, but I got on to brewing the tea.

First, if I remember right, I had to grind up things like roots. So, I cut the roots off and ground them down in a mortar. The buds of the yellow bloom were not all the way open, so I picked them off when I removed them before I mushed them a bit.

I had two piles of ingredients.

The pot was ready, so carefully, I poured out some water and mixed them half and half in a separate pot before letting them steep.

When I spooned out the stuff, I was left with a yellow, somewhat cloudy tea, before drinking it, though, I decided to give it a sniff.

It smelled off, not floral enough.

I poured it out into the grass to the side of the house before I went back in and did more flower than root, letting it steep.

A bit too flora.

Again, not strong enough.

Again, slightly too rooty.

I did another one, and it was close, but I realized it was best to write it down.

That one was strong enough, Rooty enough, and floral enough, but it was missing something.

What am I missing? It’s slightly off. I suppose the flowers are a bit ungrown, but that’s to be expected. I feel like I’m missing something.

I thought about it drinking a mug of the close stuff.

It was still good, even missing whatever I was missing. Anna was tending to some herbs I didn’t know the name of. Her deft hands slowed, but not unsteady. Picking leaves and using skills.

Leaves… Maybe it is a leaf, the leaf of either the bloom or the root. Maybe Kindly just left them on? Could it be that simple, just the leaves and flowers in full bloom?

I got back to the pot, dumped it out and got to it, brewing the tea with some crushed leaves.

Kindly had, as it turned out, left the leaves on.

I don’t know why, maybe it was carefully thought out, maybe it was just Kindly not caring to take them off.

Whatever the reason, it was the best I could do without fully bloomed, fully grown flowers.

They would likely be ok to use tomorrow for their flavour, growing in the effect of Anna’s grove.

When it finished, it was almost bang on. I poured out a cup for Anna and finished mine off for a new cup.

I could feel its effects give me a little pick me up, feel it relax me a little.

Anna had some, and while I helped out in what little ways I could, watering plants, and making sure the new ones on the edge would remain alive long enough to get their roots into the new soil.

I made dinner that night, and Anna seemed a little better. However, she was still in pain.

I started thinking about those books.

I wonder, could I do something to help her out with that? I suppose I know what I’m doing tomorrow.