“Ow!” Carmine snapped again, glaring towards her old, grizzled cart driver

“Sorry, Carmine,” Nicholos replied for the dozenth time. “Not used to driving this thing yet.”.

Every bump in the untended road sent another wave of pain through Carmine as bandages chafed against her burns. It didn’t help that the cart she rode on would have wobbled on a perfectly paved street. Its knotted, uneven wheels shook the roughly hewn cart every moment it moved. Carmine had to remind herself after every wince that this was better than the alternative. She had learned, barely a week ago, that horseback riding didn’t mix well with severely burned skin. Nicholos bought the small, two seat cart from a passing caravan for her benefit the day after he found her; huddled on the edge of her family land, in a hollowed out log, nearly freezing. Unfortunately Nicholos didn’t carry much money with him, so this old cart was the best they got.

“We’re almost there,” Nicholos said, holding the reins to his horse, Beet. Funny name for a horse that was more brown than red. Nicholos smiled at Carmine from the edge of the bench, giving most of what little room there was to her. Carmine avoided his gaze, looking past him to a signpost reading “Rolderston”. It took a moment for her to realize where she was: This was where Father was supposed to meet her and Mother.

Carmine sat up, leaning on the edge of the cart with her good hand. She looked around, knowing this faint hope building was nothing but a childish wish. Everywhere she turned, she felt Mother and Father on the edge of her sight, but no matter what she did, she couldn’t see them. Gritting her teeth, Carmine dropped back into her seat. A childish wish, but one that still managed to hurt.

“What is it?” Nicholos asked, trying to find what Carmine was looking for. He couldn’t. No one could. “Did you see something?”

Carmine wiped her eyes with her sleeve, trying to hide the useless tears she hated weeping. She dropped back into her seat without a word. She didn’t have much to say anymore.

"It's alright, Carmine, you can talk to me," Nicholos made another attempt at a conversation. He had tried so many times this week, it started to get on Carmine's already-fried nerves. "Have you ever been to Rolderston?"

She answered with an exasperated sigh and nod. She hoped that would be enough of an answer. Why couldn’t he just leave her be?.

"Really? What did you do?"

Carmine flared her nostrils at the second question. "Nothing."

"Come now, it's a whole different town. Did you get anything?" His tone lightened, and Nicholos brought a smile to his face, though it didn't match his furrowed brow and uncertain eyes.

Carmine stared away from his coddling smile. "Father bought me a figurine." She still remembered how happy she was when Father placed the figure in her hands. Now, she had to grit her teeth just to keep herself from feeling anything.

"What kind was it?"

"Who cares!?" Carmine couldn't keep her annoyance at bay any longer. "It's gone now anyway!"

"Maybe we can get you another while we're out here. If you see one you like-"

"You can't replace it! It's gone. All of them are."

"Okay, Okay, if you don't want anything, that's fine." Nicholos raised a hand, trying to calm Carmine down, but she turned away. A sigh escaped him as he turned his attention back to the road, and the town growing closer. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry."

Carmine pouted on her side of the cart, avoiding Nicholos constant glances. It was his fault she was so upset...so why did his apology make her feel worse? She kept her back to him, trying to put him, and her own feelings, out of her mind.

"You know…" The old man kept talking anyway. "What's new doesn't have to replace what's gone."

"Whatever." What did he know? Mother said he spent most of his time chasing books.

Carmine's attitude kept up for the rest of the ride to town, even as she could hear Mother nagging at the back of her mind, telling her not to be so rude.

A wall surrounded Rolderston, not a big one, but enough that Carmine couldn't see over it. Through the open gate, she saw people moving about inside, talking, trading, even after all the rain they had in their community. Father told her once that Rolderston didn't farm as much as they did. Instead the people here made things, like the figurine Father bought her that same day almost a year ago. Carmine didn't remember anyone there making books though.

"Why are we here," Carmine asked with an impatient edge in her words. The sooner the cart stopped moving the better.

"For your sake," Nicholos replied, steering Beet into town. "I called a friend of mine to take a look at your burns."

"Why!?" Carmine tucked her bandaged arm to her chest. The contact of it sent a sting all the way up the limb and through her chest. She grimaced, but another thought preoccupied her head. She'd heard once that a farmer back home stepped in a fire and had to have his foot cut off. Was someone going to cut off her arm!? "No. No, I wanna go back hom- to the inn."

"Don't worry Carmine, my friend is a doctor, she helps people."

Uncle Greg was supposed to help Dad, the thought wormed its way into her head. How would this doctor be any different than her own family?

"I don't care," Carmine insisted, curling up on the edge of the bench. "I don’t want to go!"

Nicholos heaved a sigh, "Carmine, she can help you feel better." He said, reaching towards Carmine; she tried to lean further away. Some of the folk around the front gate stared at their little cart as it passed. Nicholos pinched the bridge of his nose and lowered his voice. "I'm not going to force you to do anything, lass, but I know you're in pain. Vale can help. She's the best doctor I know. Antora- Your mother would have me do no less for her little girl. Please, just come along. Maybe you'll change your mind."

Carmine frowned at Nicholos, clutching her own wrist as if she'd lose it. He still had those same kindly eyes he had when he visited before, but now they darkened with more than just fatigue, especially when he talked about Mother.

"Fine." Carmine said curtly. She unfurled from her corner and sat back on the bench a little closer. "Maybe I'll do it."

"Thanks lass." He slowly put a hand on Carmine's head and ruffled her hair as Father had before. Carmine shot him a frown, and Nicholos looked just as perturbed. "Uh...Don't worry, won't do that again."

"Don't." Carmine agreed.

The cart came to a stop before a small shop with the word "Medecine" painted on a big wooden plank nailed over the door. Mother never bought anything from there. Looking at the sign, Carmine knew why.

Two men walked out the front door as Nicholos and Carmine approached, one with his arming a sling, and bandaged better than Carmine's arm.

"Oh, Vale, you're at it again," Nicholos sighed as he held open the door for Carmine. Because of the bandage on the lower part of her face, Carmine preferred breathing through her nose. Big mistake in this place. The sharp stench of something familiar stung Carmine's nose, like some of the water Mother and Father told her to stay away from. The smell underneath, Carmine knew better, she smelled it whenever Father butchered an animal he'd hunt. Blood. The last time she smelled it...

The stench brought her back to that moment a week ago. Her mother dying from an arrow, shirt darkening, and that same iron smell clinging to her like death as she said Carmine's name.

"Carmine," Nicholos brought her back to the present. "Are you alright? You're pale-"

"Another one to see that damn Doctor," A wizened old lady that reminded Carmine of the hag in her bedtime stories shouted from behind a desk at the front of the shop. Her sour look wasn't from the apple she chewed between what few of her teeth remained. "This is my shop! You people should be seeing me first."

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"Apologies, my dear," Nicholos replied. Carmine felt an urgent hand nudging her towards a curtain covering the back of the room. "We have an appointment."

The old lady descended into a whirlwind of curses that would have earned Carmine a month of grounding, but Nicholos paid her no mind as he pulled the curtain aside.

Beds lined the walls, covered in cheap linens and thin pillows. Of the eight Carmine saw, only one was occupied. An older man sat on the edge of his bed looking up to a woman wearing a red robe with a strange insignia of a tower on her chest. A white beaked mask hid her face as she spoke.

"It's a mild case of pneumonia," The masked woman said as she placed a small bottle in the man's hands. "Drink this in the morning and before you sleep. Get ample rest, preferably somewhere dry."

"Thank you, Doc," the patient replied, rising to his feet. "Can't remember when Gertrude's sick room was this empty."

"Just doing what I can."

Nicholos and Carmine stepped aside to let the man leave. Nicholos stepped forward towards the doctor. "Stop." She raised her hand out. Her tone made no request. Before she allowed either of them to move, she walked over to the wash basin.and started cleaning her hands. Carmine noticed first that her footsteps made a strange sound on the wooden floor. As the doctor stepped around the bed, the cause became clear. Black fur covered the doctor's legs and instead of feet, she had hooves! Carmine hid behind Nicholos, confused at what the creature in front of her was.

"There we are." The doctor said with a musical ring to her voice. She dried her hands and removed her mask. Turning around to face her two newest visitors, the doctor gave them both a bright smile that cast away Carmine's worry. She looked just like everyone else, aside from the floppy, goatlike ears on the side of her head, and a pair of nubby little horns that protruded from her forehead. Carmine expected someone as old as Nicholos, but the doctor looked around Mother's age.

She wiped the sweat from her caramel skin and waved them closer.

"Hi there, Carmine," The doctor greeted as she tied her curly black hair behind her.

"Hi," Carmine replied after a long moment. Her eyes settled on the strange legs of the doctor before her. "You have goat feet."

The doctor raised her eyebrows and looked at her own legs with a gasp. "By the ancients, would you look at that? I guess this is what happens when you count enough sheep before bed." She looked back with a reassuring smile. "No need to worry, dear, I was born this way. I'm a faun, see? Nicholos didn't mention that did he?" Carmine shook her head. "I see, he does forget to mention things now and then, doesn't he?" The doctor dropped her voice to a loud whisper. "Maybe because he's getting old."

"I'm not too old to be deaf you know," Nicholos grumbled back. Carmine couldn't help a chuckle at his expense.

"Well, don't you worry," the doctor continued, ignoring Nicholos' protest. "Nicholos told me about you, and I'm here to help you feel better. My name is Valentine, but you can call me Vale, everyone does." She crouched down to meet Carmine at eye level. This close, Carmine could see that Vale's deep brown rectangular eyes turned a bit sad. "You've been through a lot, haven't you kid?"

Carmine bit her lip, avoiding another set of sympathetic eyes and just nodded instead. Nicholos picked up the silence.

"She's got bad burns to her arm and body," Nicholos started explaining. How bad did he mean? Were they really going to cut her arm off!? "I tried keeping them covered as best I could but-"

"Still have trouble with tact, don't you old man." Vale cut him off as she stood up to glare at him.

"What do you-" Nicholos furrowed his brow before looking down at Carmine. She met his eyes with half-panic, half-anger in her own, clutching her burned arm close to her chest again. "Right...sorry. Maybe you should just take a look?"

"Would that be alright Carmine?" Vale's smile returned quickly.

"Are you going to cut off my arm," Carmine asked in a whisper, her tone shaking.

Vale let out a small chuckle as she shook her head. "No, darling, you don't have to worry about that."

Carmine scrutinized the doctor's face, looking for anything that might hint at a lie. If there was one, She couldn't see it. "Okay."

Vale sat Carmine on one of the sick beds and had her take off her coat. With it gone, Carmine had to stare at the off-white bandages on her arm that disappeared up her sleeve. Hinted of warped, red skin peeked at her from beneath. Bile creeped up her throat.

"I'm going to start with your arm, okay?" Vale warned her as she took the end of the bandage, waiting for a sign from Carmine. All she got was a nod.

Vale slowly started peeling away Carmine's bandages. Carmine forced her eyes shut, keeping the tears locked behind them, to not see her skin coming loose on the underside of each strip of cloth..

"Nicholos," Vale said, pausing, "This might go faster with a distraction."

"Like what," Nicholos replied with confusion. "I'm no bard."

"Just talk about something."

"Fine," Nicholos hummed for a moment. Carmine peeked at him as the peeling started again. "Did...did you go to school at all Carmine?"

Carmine shook her head. "Mother said…the town school didn't teach properly," she said, trying to focus on anything but the growing sting of the air on her arm.

"So, Antora taught you?" Carmine nodded. A grin spread over Nicholos' face. "Seems like her...you know she taught me as well."

"She did?"

"Aye. Taught me about sorcery, how to manipulate the world around me through magic. Did she teach you how to channel your intent into existence?"

She shook her head, what was he talking about?

"Well...what about the basics of Yarish, what's been deciphered so far?"

"Do...you mean the weird symbols in mum's book? I don't-” Carmine yelped, pain shooting up her burned arm much sharper than before, but that wasn’t as bad as the itching. It felt like the insides of her arm were being stretched and pulled like noodles. She focused on the symbols in her head, the ones mother taught her. Anything other than the horrible feeling would do. “I- I don’t know what they mean."

"I see," Nicholos furrowed his brow, his smile wanning. "What did she teach you then?"

"Something normal, maybe," Vale whispered under her breath.

"Mum taught me how to read and write," Carmine explained, recalling the numerous lessons she sat through each day. She never thought she'd miss them. "She taught me how to count, add and subtract, multiply and divide."

"Okay," Nicholos nodded along, his tone a bit more curious. "Are you good with numbers Carmine?"

"Yeah, but…"

"But?"

"I don't like them." Carmine admitted with an awkward sense of guilt. She hadn't ever told Mother that.

"I never enjoyed numbers either," Nicholos said with a chuckle. "What was your favourite thing to learn?"

"I...liked history."

"Really," Nicholos leaned his elbow on the nearby night stand. "Why is that?"

"Mum told me stories from all over. I liked hearing them...especially the ones about cool animals."

"Like what?"

"She told me about,” she paused, feeling a little silly about her favorite, “about a cat with a bunch of wings that could fly like a bird, and was as big as a pony."

"Oh, you mean Feliphs," Vale spoke up, with sudden interest. "Those are actually from Raelis, where I used to live."

"You lived there?"

"I sure did! Vembris and Raelis are almost different worlds instead of nations. There, the trees are alive, and some of the animals even talk."

"What!?" Her eyes went wide at hearing her dream become reality. Never before had Carmine wished more for a talking cat. Not that she hadn't asked before. "My dad-" Carmine choked up a second, trying to keep her composure with Father's empty eyes in her head. “Dad...said we could get a flying kitten… so he bought me a figure instead."

"Probably the best he could do," Nicholos said. "Vembris' emperor doesn't much care for Raelis, its people or otherwise."

"Believe me, I know," Vale grumbled under her breath again. Carmine looked at her, wondering what she meant.

Her curiosity died with the bile crawling up her throat. Carmine only saw a glimpse of her own arm before tearing her eyes away, but she could see it in her mind all too clearly. Warped red skin tinted black around the edges and yellow within. That was her arm? Just imagining how horrid she must look beneath the bandages made her sick.

Nicholos patted her back. "Hey, you're alright. Vale's going to fix it."

"I'll do what I can," Vale corrected him with skepticism that didn't soothe any nerves. "There'll be some scarring, but the pain will fade." Vale covered Carmine's arm with a blanket before pulling out a strange pot from her pack. Even with the lid on, Carmine smelled a weird mix of minty herbs. "This is medicine made from leaves of a Saol tree from my home. I'm going to put it on your arm and say a few magic words so it can help your skin heal. This is going to sting a little but, as odd as it sounds, that's a good sign."

"Do you have to?" Carmine asked. She didn't want her arm to cause any more trouble, especially with how bad it looked. Maybe it would be best if doctor Vale cut the ugly thing off.

"We don't have to do anything," Vale assured her. "But let me explain just one small thing okay?" Carmine nodded again. "Your arm won't get better by itself. It needs medicine for that. Have you ever gotten a cold?"

"Yeah." Of course she'd gotten a cold, "who hasn't?"

"And did your mum or dad ever make you take medicine for it?"

"They did...it tasted like sour fruit."

"But did it help you?"

Carmine grumbled and nodded her head.

"This medicine is like that," Vale continued. "It's not going to feel very good right now, but it will make you better later."

"You promise?" Carmine stared at Vale's face, trying to catch a lie if it existed.

"I promise," Vale answered with a smile Carmine couldn't doubt. "This isn't any old medicine. It's an ancient tradition gifted to the Raelish by the ancients. Old magic."

"Maybe you'll learn it when you're older," Nicholos encouraged. "You're mother taught me; I could pass on that knowledge to you."

"Mother's magic?" Visions of her figures running around Carmine's table filled her mind...followed by the memory of lightning striking her father's killers. "You...could teach me how?"

"Of course." A wide grin spread across Nicholos' face. He leaned closer, eyes bright and eager. "It would be my honor. I owe your mother my life and living. I think she'd be happy to see her daughter learn from her, even indirectly."

"I could show you a few Raelish traditions too," Vale added as she stirred the paste in the pot. "To help you take care of yourself, just in case."

Carmine looked between the two magic folk. The eagerness and hope in their eyes looked so familiar to mother's that night before it all went wrong. Perhaps if she had learned, she wouldn't have been so useless that night. If she did learn, she'd never get so injured. Perhaps...she could even punish anyone that tried to hurt her again.

"Okay," Carmine agreed. "What do I do?"

"Rest for now," Nicholos said, patting her good shoulder with an approving nod. "We should start when you're feeling better."

"He's right, take it slow," Vale said in an orderly voice only doctors could manage. She started to apply the medicine to Carmine's arm, amplifying the dull sting that was ever present. "Magic lets you shape the world around you, so obviously it takes a lot out of you."

"But," Nicholos interjected. "learn well, and be ambitious, and you'll see that you can accomplish anything."

Carmine listened well, even as the stinging on her arm grew. It didn't matter. She hung onto Nicholos' final words with singular focus.

Anything.