Pick Your Poison

Chapter 1

It was one of those mornings.

One of the days were the birds sung louder than yesterday, because the sun had risen early. A morning where the entire forest smelled like wet grass, because it had rained somewhere after midnight, for the first time in weeks.

It were those mornings that made Fychon appreciate the forest-life he'd chosen to live. Apart from the disgusted glares the rich people gave him whenever he dared to show his face in town, Fychon had never found any real disadvantages to the adventurous path he'd chosen when he was old enough to venture into the forest that stretched far outside of the town's walls.

If anything, he loved roaming the unpaved paths of the woods. Especially on damp, yet warm and clear, mornings like today. That was because it made the forest look even more magical; the beams of sunlight that made it through the trees' leafs reflected in the dew lying on top of flowers, grass and stones.

Therefore venturing out into the forest on mornings like this was even more enjoyable than usual. Especially after a scorching week like before, the rain seemed to have reawakened the woods; meaning Fychon could finally restock the pots and flasks of herbs that had gone empty or dried out over the summer.

Fychon balanced on a fallen tree, one that had been lying across the narrow river for such a long time that moss and entire families of flowers had started growing in between the ragged tree bark.

He knew he could easily kneel down and harvest some of the moss, but it grew everywhere, just like the plants that had rooted themselves onto the branch. What Fychon was looking for was much more sacred than the moss; it was more useful. Yet, he rarely came across it, though, especially in dry summer months like these. Tulshi, after all, grew in the well-drained mud, rather than the lumpy dryness that dominated the forest for weeks.

If Fychon could get his hands on some Tulshi before autumn came around he would be able to take his skills to a whole next level. Not because of the herb itself, he had come across it more than once and already knew exactly how to incorporate it into proper medicine.

It was rather the lack of gold that kept Fychon from improving any further. This was something he'd been dealing with from a young age; he'd been raised by a poor family, one that regrettably lived in one of Coedwig's wealthiest towns. So, it wasn't the first time Fychon couldn't have what he wanted; he would always have to work hard to make a living out of being an herbalist.

Now that he had studied every plant in the forest, though, he knew the woods themselves wouldn't teach him anymore. He needed, more than anything, to get his hands on proper books. He needed notes of fellow herbalists, ones that could teach him how to turn nature into medicine.

And a small bottle of pain relieving herbs wouldn't trade him a book.

Finding Tulshi would make a change, especially with autumn and winter just around the corner. The fragile health of wealthy people demanded large amounts of painkilling mixes of herbs. Anything from ginger to barks of willow trees would be ordered by the town's doctors, but they were just to ease the people's pain. They were simple, over the counter, medicine.

If Fychon could get his hands on Tulshi he could give doctors medicine to treat colds, flues and other repertory infections that usually took lives of many women and children in town.

And it would earn him so much gold, the salesmen wouldn't be able to ignore him anymore; he'd be able to trade it for at least three new books at the market.

He closed his eyes and sighed, thinking about how big of a change it would make if he could actually study instead of learn through trial and error.