Chapter 51: Failed To Make Medicine

Chapter 51: Failed To Make MedicineTo Oriana’s surprise, the old man remained asleep even after she finished cooking.

’Grandpa normally does not sleep this late...?’

Oriana went to check on him and realized he had a fever.

"Grandpa?" She called out, but the old man didn’t wake up. "Grandpa, it is morning. Time to wake up." She gently patted his cheeks, and with much effort, the old man slowly opened his eyes.

"Who...?"

It was as if her heart was being squeezed tightly. Oriana realized how old and weak her once strong grandfather had become.Tears welled up in her eyes. "G-Grandpa, it’s Ori. I am back."

The old man opened his mouth as if to ask a question, but in the end, he only reached out to tenderly pat the young woman’s head. "Good to see you back, Ori. Has it been two weeks...?"

Phil tried to sit up, but Oriana stopped him.

"Please stay in bed and rest. You have fever—"

"Pfft. A little fever is nothing. I am fine," the old man rebuked as he sat up in bed with the help from Oriana.

"You are not fine, Grandpa. How long have you been ill? I think we still have a portion of white willow bark to bring down your temperature..."

She offered him a morning meal and brewed white willow bark into herbal tea, insisting him to sleep more to recover.

’Grandpa’s health is deteriorating fast. His body has accumulated a lot of injuries in his mercenary days, and now all of those hidden dangers seem to be erupting one by one. Aside from aching joints, his weakening heart and his growing senility, he is more prone to catching seasonal illnesses now. I should start adding more supplements to his medicines...’

Inside the storage room of their cabin, Oriana began collecting the other ingredients she needed to create the medicine for Phil’s deteriorating mind. She arranged them on a table, with the five stalks of black nightshade in the middle.

Oriana pulled out one folded paper from a small wooden chest. The parchment was yellowed and slightly wrinkled, which showed she had been carrying it with her for a long time.

His granddaughter began noticing Phil’s senility about two years ago. Back then, the old man would talk as if the eighteen-year-old ’Ori’ was still a little ten-year-old girl in his mind. He would also often forget the people they befriended back then...

Oriana had been living in absolute fear that a day would come her grandfather no longer recognized her, until she chanced on a kind apothecary who passed through their old village.

The man shared with her an ancient remedy to prevent her grandfather’s situation from worsening. It was not a cure per se, but a chronic medication Phil would have to take every single day of his life from then on.

She opened the parchment and followed the concoction method written on it, paying special attention to each instruction despite having memorized the measurements in her heart. One stalk of black nightshade finely ground, half a cup of saffron, three dried sage leaves, a drop of snake blood...

The mixture began to boil under low fire.

’It should turn vibrant green after I add this, but why is it turning darker? Could it be because the heat is too high?’

She continued to stir it with a wooden spatula, reducing the fire to the point the flames were nothing more than ember. Time passed by, but that medicine concoction turned even darker.

’What the...Why is it turning black instead? Did I do something wrong? Did I boil it more than needed?’

With a heavy heart, she threw away the waste and cleaned the pot. After checking the measurement of the ingredients, she repeated the same steps mentioned in the paper. This time, her movements were slow and careful. She paid more attention to the size of the fire.

’It should turn green now.’

To her horror, it turned black this time,not even a tinge of green seen on the boiling concoction.

’Why?! Where is it going wrong? It says if it’s vibrant green, only then is the medicine successfully made, or else it would be poisonous. Is there a problem with the ingredients? I don’t believe it. I checked all of them. I...I should keep boiling it. Maybe, maybe there are impurities? Should I stop stirring to check if there are impurities...?’

Her eyes were red-rimmed as she watched the pot continue to boil. Minutes felt as long as years, and even when the portions boiled to half of its initial quantity, and even after the liquid touched the bottom, it never turned green. In fact, it became a disgusting, black slush.

Her body turned cold.

’I don’t understand. This has never happened before.’ She looked at the three leftover stalks of black nightshade. ’I cannot afford to waste more of these. What do I do?’

Oriana slumped on a chair, her face pale with worry. The burden on her shoulders was stifling.

’This is because I am ignorant. If only I were more knowledgeable, I would be able to understand the complexity of the concepts behind this.’ Oriana wondered if she should go to Gerona Town or Jerusha City and seek advice from an apothecary. In the end, she chose not to. The ancient remedy was not hers to share in the first place, not to mention, she would be persecuted by the authorities for possessing banned herbs.

’I need to find that kind apothecary again and ask him why the concoction failed. But that apothecary loves to travel. Where can I find him?

’That time, I think he mentioned he has an apprentice in the capital and he would often visit him every year. Should I take the risk and see the capital? Even if he is not there, maybe his apprentice can help me...’

Oriana sighed. ’Grandpa warned me to never go to the capital. We moved around all the time, jumping from one village and town to another, but we strayed far from cities, not to mention the capital city. He never told me why but I guess it is related to my late parents. He particularly hates Karlin City. I don’t think Grandpa will agree to move to Karlin.’

However, she had no other choice this time.

’I need to go there alone, and that too without letting Grandpa know. But I have never been there. Who should I inquire about the capital?’

Then, she recalled something Aunt Gwen told her.

’Luke, he had been to Karlin befores. I think I can ask him.’

Oriana hurried outside. Just as she stepped past her doorway, she saw Luke’s tall figure walking in the direction of the village entrance. He seemed to be going out.

"Luke, wait!" she yelled before jogging towards him.

Luke stopped and turned to look at her, his expression impassive.

She offered him the brightest smile she could muster. "Are you going somewhere?"

He nodded.

"Umm, I wanted to talk about something..."

His silent but heavy gaze seemed impatient.

"...but not like this." She noticed the empty bag in his hand. "Are you going to town? I have to buy something as well. Let’s go together."

Wordlessly, the young man turned to leave and Oriana knew he permitted her to go with him.

She hurried to catch up with his long strides. "So, uhm, Aunt Gwen mentioned you’ve been to the capital city."

"Hmm."

"It was last year, right?" she asked again to get more information but...

"Hmm."

She sighed inwardly, "How is the capital like? Is it like Jerusha?"

"It’s far bigger than Jerusha."

Finally getting some reply other than just ’hmm’ she turned hopeful and excited.

"Oh, how big is it? Twice? Thrice?"