Having sensed the commotion happening outside his room, Morus turned to look at the door mid-stretch.

  His sister and Vigil the fluffy chow-chow entered his view.

  “Morning sis. Had a good rest?” Morus raised an eyebrow at his sister’s bare feet, but shrugged the thought away, he too preferred walking barefooted to wearing dirty socks.

  “Yep! Surprisingly! Thought I’d be sore or something.” Monica closed the door behind her. “Must be magic or the food. You?”

  “It’s been some time since I slept so soundly. Unsettling. Hopeful, but unsettling.” Morus sat down cross-legged on his bed. “You wanna tell me something?”

  ‘Am I that easy to read?’ The girl pouted for a second.

  “Yep! I had a dream!”

  That got her brother’s attention. “What was it about?”

  Monica sat close to Morus and recounted her dream of meeting the Goddess to him.

  “You’re telling me you can’t remember her name?”

  “It feels like I should know it! But can’t for the life of me figure it out! It’s like trying to remember the answers to a question I’ve revised, it’s at the tip of my tongue but the information doesn’t appear.”

  “Can’t help you with that. She said you’ll know why we’re here real soon? Or is that question more about why you’re in her… domain? That’s stupidly cryptic.”

  Monica raised her finger in the air, then put it back down. “I hate it when you’re right.”

  “Let me think for a moment.” His eyes were closed, but Monica could see them rolling in their sockets. Telltale sign that her brother was focusing and preferred no interruptions.

  While Morus was staring into his own eyelids, Monica stared at him.

  ‘Is it just me? Or is brother looking less pale?’ If Morus’ paleness was measured on a scale of 1 to 100, he previously scored 100, and this morning he looked like he could pass for 98.

  After a few moments, “That means we’re chosen for some task of the Gods… Or just one Goddess? They have pantheons here?”

  “I think they have multiple gods. Ban mentioned it to me yesterday. Not sure if there are factions amongst them?”

  “There are definitely factions for sure. We are severely underinformed of this world, and everything.” Morus resisted the urge to bite his thumb, “We might only find out the answers… through the mystic, if she’s even the real deal.”

  “Brother, do you think we should come clean?”

  “About what?”

  “We’re not from here! Wherever ‘here’ is!”

  “I don’t know sis.” He replied without hesitation. “It could go well, or it could go downhill.”

  “But a Goddess came to my dreams! She called me by my name! Maybe she can send us home or even cure you! After we’ve done what she asked!”

  A pained expression on Morus’ face as he tried to calm Monica, “I know. But we don’t know how the villagers will take it. We don’t know their relationship with Gods, besides, you can’t remember her name, right? Our best bet right now is meeting the mystic, get our answers and decide from there.”

  Monica looked down at her crossed legs, “I… yeah, you’re right. I need to know her name first before we can do anything.”

  ?? ′? ? ?` ??

  Vigil, having sensed that this was a serious conversation, sat down by the bed while looking at the siblings, with his ears perked up. The moment Monica looked down, Vigil instinctively knew that his owner was feeling a mixture of sadness and hopelessness.

  Vigil's ears flattened. He watched Monica's face, then her hands, then her face again. A soft whine. Then he leapt onto the bed.

  The bed creaked—just once—as Vigil landed and settled his weight on her lap.

  Monica startled, then melted. Her hands found his fur, her arms wrapped around the giant snowball, and the tension in her shoulders released.

  Morus, on the other hand, was frozen, staring at the bed frame. If this breaks, it’ll be my second time making a mess in this room.

  Alas, the bed held steady.

  Morus chuckled and initiated a petting frenzy.

  ??- ? -??⌒)?

  With the involvement of Vigil, the atmosphere in the room lightened up.

  After some relief and light banter between the siblings, they decided to meet in the Dining Hall after changing into more presentable clothes, then make their way to the Herbalist’s Greenhouse.

  On the way to the Greenhouse, the bare footed siblings and dog encountered Bay, who had four pairs of shoes hovering behind him.

  “Sandals.”

  Bay had his apron on and was not interested in casual conversation, he seemed annoyed by having to run errands when he should be in his workshop.

  “Sandals.” The siblings nodded.

  “Done?”

  The siblings looked at the ‘sandals’ they received, one pair looked similar to a flip-flop, while the other pair was only similar to what they know of ‘shoes’ in terms of shape. It was a piece of leather with many leather straps on the top side, while the bottom was lined with studs. A piece of lace ran between the openings of the leather, loosely forming the shape of a boot.

  Morus intuited how to wear the weird-looking boot, and nodded.

  “We’ll manage. Thanks, Bay.”

  Monica stifled a chuckle, but nodded in thanks as well.

  Bay then walked back towards the direction of his workshop, his gait was not large but he seemed to travel a farther distance than what was logical, as if he was stepping on air instead of the ground.

  …

  One side of the Greenhouse’s double door was pushed open.

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  The smell of spring after a light drizzle bombarded the nostrils of the siblings. They had a sense of what’s inside through the transparent door and walls, but being inside was a different experience altogether.

  There were many plants that neither sibling had seen before, while some were close to familiar.

  Morus could recognize a few — aloe vera by its fleshy spikes, ginger from the knobby root he'd seen in markets, lavender and mint by their familiar scent — but the rest were strangers to him. He knew what they did, knew which tinctures and teas they became, but the living plants themselves might as well have been weeds.

  Though one thing drew their attention, common herbs that doubled as culinary spices were more prevalent in this space, while the other plants in the greenhouse were only grown in a pot or two.

  “G’morning. Welcome to my garden.” A woman’s voice came out from nowhere and everywhere.

  “Morning.” The siblings greeted into the air, while looking around trying to determine where the voice’s owner was from.

  A single green tendril extended into the air, down the walkway towards the siblings, then it curled backwards in a beckoning motion.

  “Follow him.” The woman said, it was now clear she was further inside the greenhouse than the siblings were.

  As the siblings followed the tendril, Vigil squeezed himself inside before the door closed, then pushed it shut, careful not to wrought the ire of the guardian of this space.

  As they went down the walkway, they passed by multitudes of plants, but one thing was certain, it felt like they were walking past seasons itself. It started off nice and humid, but it became warmer, then hot, finally becoming colder. Then the cycle repeated, but this time it was more humid, tropical, even.

  “Brother. This place is larger than it looks.”

  Morus nodded, “Yes, and the use of magic is wondrous.”

  As they walked past their second Winter, now the air was dry. Even Vigil had his tongue out, panting for water.

  “How much further?” Monica asked.

  “Almost there, young lady.” The woman, clearly Herbalist Ren, spoke again.

  The siblings nodded at each other and followed the tendril, which had changed colors every time they crossed a ‘border’.

  After entering their third Autumn, they spotted the owner of the Greenhouse at the border of Autumn and Winter, or rather her hat.

  A cozy nook hidden away from view, a small hedge wall of various colored roses surrounded a wooden table and three chairs. As the siblings and protector approached, the tendril disappeared into the hedge wall, leaving them to see Herbalist Ren in her full seated glory.

  The woman sitting with legs crossed, eyes down on her book, looked up with her heterochromatic eyes, one orange, one white. The young woman in her 30’s wore an orange dress that looked like autumn leaves, and a white hat on her head, which from afar, could absolutely pass as a coif.

  “I am Ren. Please sit.” Herbalist Ren gestured to the space in front of her. Three teacups with steaming tea waited on the table, one still had lipstick from its owner.

  As the siblings took to their seats, Vigil tilted his head at Ren, beady eyes staring at the herbalist, whimpering a little.

  “Alright Guardian, some water for you as well.”

  Ren clapped her hand with her fingers. As soon as she did, a wide taro leaf — which held water on its broad surface — lowered itself into view until it reached the panting dog.

  Vigil happily lapped the water out of it. Seeing Vigil’s need taken care of, the siblings and herbalist turned their attention towards each other.

  “Upon closer inspection, you are paler than I thought.” Herbalist Ren broke the silence first.

  “And you are definitely not what I expected when I imagined a Herbalist.”

  “Brother means you’re pretty!” Monica adjected.

  Both Morus and Ren looked at Monica, then back at each other.

  “The Chief said you might be able to help.” Morus sighed, then his eyes focused on the woman in front of him.

  “I’m not an alchemist, nor am I a true physician. I have certain knowledge, but I make no promises.” Ren picked up her cup of tea, gently blowed it cool, then took a sip from it, all the while observing Morus.

  “That is good enough. What do you need?” A good start. Morus thought. Most would have started with the promise of curing me, with the intent of luring us to make an expensive but useless purchase.

  Monica watched the scene unfold. Attempting to remember as much as possible.

  “Hand, please.”

  Morus extended his left hand over the table, palm down.

  Herbalist Ren took it, and gently flipped it over. A tendril extended itself out of the hedge wall, curling itself horizontally into a flat surface, cushioning the back of Morus’ hand against the wooden table, then Ren placed three fingers on his wrist, more precisely, where his radial artery was.

  Traditional medicine? No luck in that department. Their parents had brought Morus to see every renowned Traditional Chinese Medicine practitioner in their state, out of state, but other than shaking heads and the doctors flipping through their ancient and thick books, there had been no hope.

  After a few moments, Herbalist Ren’s eyebrows gathered together, then she looked up into Morus’ eyes.

  “Would you mind if I send some mana into you?”

  Morus kept his expression unreadable, “Sure, go ahead.”

  With his permission, Ren sent a mote of her mana into the young man before her. As it entered through his wrist, it disappeared like a drop of water into the abyss.

  “Where are you from?”

  “The Free City.” The siblings spoke at the same time.

  An annoyed look in Herbalist Ren’s eyes.

  “Please don’t lie to me.”

  Monica pursed her lips.

  Morus thought for a moment, “Please understand. I’d rather keep where we’re from a secret for the time being.”

  It was Ren’s turn to sigh.

  “Alright.”

  She removed her hand from Morus’ wrist, and gathered her thoughts.

  “Listen carefully. What you have is a rare condition, called Mana Wasting Disease.”

  The siblings nodded their heads, but were still confused, and waited for her to continue.

  “It’s rare, because it only occurs in environments with miniscule amounts of mana, or none at all. It is more prominent in those who have deep mana reserves, but was drained of it for an extended period of time.”

  The siblings looked at each other, wondering what this all meant.

  Herbalist Ren then stared at the siblings.

  “That is not something that usually happens naturally. It is the cruelest fate one can be subjected to, especially to a prodigy like you.”

  “What does that mean?” Morus could not contain his curiosity any further.

  “It means that…” Ren drew a deep breath, “Either you were a prisoner caged in a manaless environment. Or you grew up in a place where mana is naturally absent. The latter being impossible, because without mana, there is no life.”

  Ren deliberated between announcing the symptoms or not, but decided against it, with the presence of the younger sister around.

  Then the puzzle pieces seemed to click inside Morus’ head.

  His hands started shaking.

  “I’ve been told that I wouldn’t live past 20.”

  Morus reached down his collar.

  “My grandmother gave me this. ‘Family heirloom’, she said. Would keep me healthy, and bring prosperity.”

  And pulled out his necklace. Removing it over his head. He gently wrapped the silver chains around the jade, and placed it carefully on the table.

  Herbalist Ren watched closely, understanding the message, she carefully touched the heirloom, and examined it with her mana.

  Monica watched with bated breath, she covered her mouth, her eyes misty.

  “Warm Jade.” Ren said. “Devoid of mana. But…”

  “But?” Morus asked.

  “It once housed a deep reservoir of mana.” Ren eyed Morus peculiarly. It seemed the young man and his younger sibling had no idea the amount of mana it contained. If fully charged, it was capable of allowing her to cast her most taxing spell 10 times over, continuously, in one sitting.

  “I see…” Morus nodded, his thoughts were in shambles.

  Monica blinked her tears away. “What about mine?”

  She raised her hand, showing the bracelet resting on her wrist.

  Ren motioned at Monica to come closer with one finger, then placed her index on the jade bracelet.

  “Peculiar… This one is full.” Ren alternated between the siblings, wondering why such a big difference between their gems.

  After he finished collecting his thoughts, Morus asked the damning question.

  “How do I get cured of this… Mana Wasting Disease?”

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