They could see the sweat on her own brow, feel the tremor in her hands, hear the sound of her coughing when she couldn’t quite keep it back. They understood she was sick just like them. But even though she must have been suffering just like they were, her gentle smile didn’t so much as crack as she tried to lift their spirits.

  It was never “You can do it.” It was always “We can do it.”

  There were no known ways of treating the afflicted. Lost in despair, all these people could do was wait for death to take them. But Lalaya’s words ignited a fresh light of hope within them. In the castle, the king was using every ounce of his position and privilege to try to find a cure for his people. With Lalaya here, they could believe that. Her presence alongside them was all the proof the people needed.

  And then, the hope that had seemed so agonizingly distant appeared right in front of them—in platinum blonde hair and jade eyes.

  “At the king’s request, the People of the Forest have come to distribute some medicine. We will attend to each of you in order, so please stay in your beds.”

  The stranger standing in the door stole the attention of everyone in the room, patients and doctors alike. Her words were beyond belief.

  “You...brought medicine?” Lalaya, having just stepped into the room herself, was just as shocked as everyone else. “You can cure us?”

  Everyone in the room watched with bated breath as Lalaya walked over to the new arrival.

  “Yes, of course,” the woman replied, nodding with a slight bow, but otherwise showing no sign of fear before the princess. “I will take over leadership of this facility for the time being. My name is Miranda. I have brought the medicine.”

  As Lalaya looked at the woman, thinking idly that her eyes looked so much like Misha’s, she noticed a tear streaking down her own face.

  And the next moment, a cheer went up around the room.

  “However, the amount of medicine I have with me is rather limited.” Miranda’s next words brought silence back to the room. Lalaya frowned. “There is more coming, but it requires herbs from a distant land, so we cannot be sure when it will arrive. As such, please respect the order I set out for receiving treatment.”

  A murmur went through the crowd.

  “Very well.” Lalaya was the first to respond, wiping the tears from her face with a slow nod. “Please save as many people as you can, Lady Miranda.” And then she bowed.

  The sight of a princess bowing to an apothecary with no fame or status made multiple people across the room gulp. However, Lalaya didn’t feel the slightest shame in her actions. It was only natural to thank someone who was here to save the lives of her precious people.

  “Miss Apothecary, can I make a request?” one of the patients spoke up, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. “I am sure you have your own plans, but could you treat Lady Lalaya first?”

  The request set the room to buzzing. Lalaya’s eyes went wide at the unexpected request.

  “I am still doing fine.” She shook her head vehemently. “There are many people who need the medicine more than I do. Please help them first.”

  “No! Lady Lalaya has to be first!”

  “Please, Miss Apothecary, help Lady Lalaya!”

  “We beg of you!”

  The voices of the other patients drowned out her objections.

  “If Lady Lalaya doesn’t get any of the medicine, then neither do we!”

  “Please, Miss Apothecary!”

  More of the patients spoke up, wheezing and hoarse. Even the family that had come to help tend to the sick looked at Miranda pleadingly. Lalaya looked out over the room, stunned.

  “Lady Lalaya is our hope!”

  “She means too much to us! We can’t afford to lose her!”

  Patients who couldn’t even move a few minutes ago were now forcing themselves up in their beds, chanting her name between agonized coughs.

  Is this what you meant by our love coming back to us, mother...? Tears trailed down Lalaya’s face once more.

  Miranda clapped her hands loudly, silencing the chorus of the sick. “Very well, I have heard your requests. Please calm down.” As quiet returned to the room, Miranda turned to Lalaya with a smile, producing a handkerchief to wipe away the girl’s tears. “Please come with me. It appears I won’t be able to get anything done unless I start with you.” And then she gently placed her hand on Lalaya’s back, urging her forward. “What selfless people. They must love you very much.”

  “Yes. They’re...wonderful.” Lalaya managed a small nod, her legs still trembling as she let Miranda guide her away.

  Chapter 10: What Lies Beyond Regret

  “Hey, we’re here to help,” Ryne said as he brought Misha into the medical clinic.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to be excited over seeing Miranda again for the first time in so long. Together with the now undisguised Miranda were two others sharing similar hair and eye color, and all three of them were hard at work making medicine.

  Miranda didn’t even lift her eyes from her task at Ryne’s carefree greeting, simply pointing to the corner of the room. “There is some prepared medicine there. Give it out, starting from the second room—Nel’s instructions. He said no one in the first room will respond to the medicine.”

  Misha tensed up. In order to better take care of them, the patients had been divided up into rooms based on how far their symptoms had progressed. The people suffering the most were in room one, then people suffering less were in room two, and so on. So, if patients from the second room and onward were the only ones to receive medicine...

  “Got it. They can just drink it, right?” As Misha stood frozen, Ryne got to work retrieving the pot that Miranda had indicated.

  “Yes. One cup each. Make sure they drink it all—”

  “Um! What about the first room...?” Misha interrupted, determined not to give up despite feeling very much like she was being left behind.

  Surprised by Misha of all people interrupting her, Miranda finally stopped what she was doing and looked up. When she saw how Misha’s face had gone pale, she frowned. After a short pause and a shake of her head, she explained, “Unfortunately, we don’t have much medicine. We can’t afford to give it to people who won’t benefit from it.”

  “But it might help!” Misha cried.

  “It might, but it’s much more likely it won’t. We have to prioritize those we know we can save. We can’t choose who we treat based on nothing but feelings,” Miranda spoke to her gently, as if she were talking to an infant. She stared Misha directly in the eye. “It will take at least a few days before the next batch of medicine arrives. In all that time, the symptoms will keep progressing. Do you understand now?”

  Unable to offer any argument, Misha fell silent. As Miranda gave her a gentle push on the back, urging her to start walking, tears started down the girl’s face.

  Miranda was right. Misha knew that, but her heart refused to accept it. In the back of her head, she couldn’t help but picture the troubled smile of a particular old woman back when Misha had given her some medicine for what she thought at the time was just a cold. The very first victim of the Red Eye plague that had come to this infirmary, Yuu and Anna’s grandmother, was in that first room. She had been unconscious the entire time. Doctors had barely been able to give her water; it was miraculous that she was still hanging on at all.

  After stumbling into the hallway, Misha came to a stop, dropping to the floor. Burying her face in her knees, she curled up into a little ball. Ryne, who had been waiting in the hallway for her, watched her with a small sigh. It was as if the little apothecary were afraid she would be attacked. The world saw them as omnipotent miracle workers, but the People of the Forest were no gods. No matter how hard they tried, there were always lives that would slip through their fingers. Ryne had seen plenty of his friends crushed by that reality, giving up and consigning themselves to “research” back in the village.

  Come on, Miranda. You know I’m the wrong guy for this, he thought.

  Ryne had no idea what to say to encourage someone who had been so thoroughly broken. He never spent time with other people. He hardly visited his own home; he was a wanderer, traveling from one nation to the next.

  After scratching at his hair in frustration, he stood in front of her. “If it’s too tough for you here, go back to the castle. The princess already got her medicine, so you can observe how her recovery is going.”

  She trembled at Ryne’s blunt dismissal. His offer was endlessly tempting. If she returned to look after Lalaya, she wouldn’t have to deal with any of the other victims. She figured there were plenty of real People of the Forest here now. No one would try to drag Misha back out into this war zone at her age. And if she stayed in the castle, maybe she’d be spared these feelings of powerlessness in the face of the plague.

  But deep inside her, something whispered softly. Something told her that if she left now, she would never truly be an apothecary. She would never come close to the reliable, beloved person her mother had been. That was why, although her eyes stayed glued to the floor, she still weakly shook her head.

  Ryne heaved a sigh. “Okay, then. I’m going on ahead. Come along once you’re somewhere near presentable. Got it? If you’re going to stress the patients out, I’ll kick you out in a heartbeat.”

  Giving her a final pat on the head, Ryne briskly made his way toward the second room. For someone who was as ignorant and indifferent to the subtleties of the human heart as Ryne was, that was the best comfort he could offer.

  Now alone in the silent hallway, Misha sat huddled helplessly down on the floor. Having been faced with her own inadequacy so many times already that day, Ryne’s words repeated over and over in her head.

  “I don’t care if it’s a bluff. When you’re in front of a patient, you stick your chest out with pride. They’re already suffering from their illness. If the patient sees you being uneasy, they’ll get scared.”

  Suddenly, the words her mother always repeated to her when she was young echoed alongside Ryne’s.

  They said it differently, but I guess they were trying to tell me the same thing.

  The moment she realized that, she felt a soft, familiar warmth on her head—so reminiscent of the way her mother would rest her hand on her head. She pulled her eyes off the floor. And when she looked up, what she saw in front of her was the very same gentle smile she had been longing to see.

  “Mom...”

  From the faint light she gave off and the way Misha could see right through her, the little apothecary knew this figure wasn’t from this world, but Misha didn’t care about details like that.

  “Mom!”

  The person she wanted to see more than anyone else in the world was right in front of her. The tears she had been holding back burst forth.

  “I... I...”

  So many feelings sprang to life in her chest, but none of them could make their way into words. Meanwhile the wispy figure of her mother, still with a gentle smile on her face, lifted a transparent hand to point down the hallway—toward the room where Ryne had just gone, where the patients were waiting.

  “But... I...” Misha shrank back, head dropping again. No matter how hard she tried, she just didn’t have the courage to face the results of her own arrogance.

  All of a sudden, a nostalgic scent swept over her, as did a warm embrace. A precious, unforgettable warmth wrapped around her.

  “It’s okay, Misha. Just smile.” And with that small whisper, the scent and the warmth vanished.

  “Mom, wait!” Misha’s eyes snapped open, but she was alone once again.

  Maybe it had just been a hallucination born of her own weakness, but she could still remember how clear that scent had been, how real that warmth had felt.

  “I’m sorry, mom,” she muttered weakly, finally picking herself up off the ground. “I must be an awful daughter for making you worry after you’ve already passed on.”

  Then she forced her mouth into a smile.

  “Even if it hurts, even if it’s a bluff...right?” she murmured again, this time to herself. Then she forced her trembling legs to step forward one after the other. There was still more she could do. No matter how much pain she was in, no matter how pathetic she felt, she had to do what she could. For the sake of the young girl who had vowed to become an apothecary like her mother.

  The Redford doctors and those from the People of the Forest continued to administer the medicine according to Miranda’s instructions. As they had expected, the worse the symptoms the patients were suffering, the less effective the medicine seemed to be. While their conditions certainly improved, they were nowhere near cured. The medicine was effective at killing the parasites and expelling them from the body, but the eggs were relatively unaffected, so patients needed to repeatedly take the medicine as those eggs continued hatching before the new generation of the parasite could start reproducing. Those with lighter symptoms could get away with two or three doses, but others needed much more.

  The frustrating part was that it was a parasite. If even a small number of them remained in the body, they’d reproduce and start the whole process over. If they couldn’t be entirely exterminated, those who appeared to have recovered would find themselves getting sick again eventually.

  In short, the medical professionals here had even less medicine available than they realized. Reducing the number of the parasites in the body did help relieve the patients of their symptoms, so instead of taking repeated doses to perfectly cure them, they focused on giving the minimum dosage to as many people as possible, hoping to extend their lives and buy some time.

  Likely thanks to the banning of eating karas, new cases of the Red Eye plague became rather rare. In truth, it would have been ideal to give a dose of the medicine to anyone who had eaten raw karas at some point in the past, but resources were strained as it was just handling those who were definitively sick.

  In the end, all they could do was wait for more medicine, which had to come from the far northern part of Carmine, past numerous nations. Not all of those nations were especially stable, so no one but the gods could guess when it might arrive.

  The days dragged on slowly and painfully.

  “You can do it. Just drink a little at a time,” Misha whispered softly, pouring a tiny spoonful of medicine into an unconscious patient’s mouth. She had run into many cases where they appeared to be unconscious but would respond to her voice, so she had started giving fever reducers and nutritional supplements to them.

  Trying to give a large amount of water to someone who was unconscious threatened to send it down to their lungs instead of to their stomach, which would cause significantly worse problems. So she had to be painstakingly slow and careful as she administered the medicine to them.

  “Great work. Okay, just one more. Let’s get better soon so we can smile with everyone.”

  Whenever she had a spare moment, she was here giving patients medicine. Once she finished, she would go back to the medicine room and experiment with what herbs they had available, looking for something that would be even slightly more effective. Those two activities made up her life for those days.

  Redford was currently concealing the fact the Red Eye plague had struck the capital once more. They were afraid that foreign adversaries would see their weakness and pounce, as they had in the past. Instead, countermeasures for these very same emergencies took effect throughout the kingdom; resources poured into the locked-down capital, sparing them from shortages of food or medicine.

  The chaos of the first plague had stagnated the flow of goods in the kingdom, causing starvation to become a real problem, never mind a lack of medicine. This time, thorough preparations and careful rationing had prevented that from happening.

  Getting her hands on as many herbs that were effective for dealing with parasites as possible, Misha tirelessly continued working on developing new medicine, and she regularly asked Ryne and Nel for advice.

  “Now that we know it’s a parasite, we should try everything we have on hand in case something works. If all we can do is wait for more medicine to arrive, we may as well try—even if it amounts to nothing,” she had decided.

  There was a clear desperation to her face, a paleness to her complexion that spoke of the hours of sleep she wasn’t getting. Although she was taking some time to sleep, the constant anxiety she faced kept that sleep from being restful. Nevertheless, she never failed to have a bright smile when working with the patients. Even as she tended to those who had lost consciousness, her bright demeanor was uplifting to their exhausted families.

  Despite understanding why the medicine was rationed the way it was, the families of those who were too sick obviously struggled with the feeling that their loved ones were being left to die. They had to be frustrated and heartbroken.

  But even among that despair, there was one girl working tirelessly and desperately to make a difference, as small as it might be. There was one person giving everything she had to keep their loved ones alive for even one moment longer. The hopeless, forlorn atmosphere of that room gradually began to soften around her.

  “We won’t forget how much you did for her. Mother was so happy.”

  As patients started to succumb and pass away, their families came to Misha with heartfelt gratitude. They brought her close to tears herself. She could only ever shake her head modestly in reply.

  Misha quickly realized that if she had run around the city searching for other People of the Forest, not only would she likely never have found any, but even if she had, it wouldn’t have changed how much medicine they had access to. Nel had sensed the coming of the plague on his own and had come to help as fast as he could. As cold as they were in tone and demeanor, the People of the Forest would never let people die for no reason. That was their pride as a tribe that made their mission to fight against illness and infirmity in every form. Ryne and the others could not have arrived in the capital any sooner.

 

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