5th of spring, 519 AV
Ever since she'd revealed to Alard that she had some knowledge in herbs and medicine, he had been going to Aster when he was injured. Thankfully it wasn't too often, and it never seemed to be anything serious...just a few minor bumps and bruises here and there that she cleaned and bandaged.
That morning, however, had seen Alard returning from his almost daily bout of training with a sizable gash across his calf. Aster clicked her tongue when he sat himself down heavily in a rickety chair, stretching his leg out.
Aster had avoided using her gift to age things on Alard's wounds, his words of warning from one of her first days in Sunberth still fresh and strong in her mind.
"Just be mindful out there. A lot of folk have never seen something like you, and if they're dumb enough, they might just think you've got some kind of magic," Alard's upper lip curled with disgust as he spat the word.
"Magic?" Aster asked, cautiously.
"Disgusting and unnatural. We're smart enough to know it's not welcome. So mind nobody's stupid enough to get the wrong idea about your sparkly bits; and I don't ever want you outside at dusk, you hear? Day or night, but not in-between. Someone sees you change like that, you're good as dead."
Aster swallowed, and gave a small, solemn nod.
So out of fear for how the gift would be seen, even though she was sure it wasn't magical, Aster hadn't used it. Kneeling in front of him, Asterope pursed her lips. "This is pretty bad," She said, sitting back on her heels, glancing around the room. She did her best to keep it organized, but Alard was always moving things around.
"No shyke it is," Alard grunted, as Aster finally located the pile of clean rags. Standing, she fetched a few, as well as the bottle of clear spirits stashed by Alard's bedside.
"I don't know if cleaning and wrapping it is going to be enough. It might need stitches, and something to put on it to help it heal certainly wouldn't be amiss," Aster continued, kneeling once more. She used a dry rag to wipe blood away, applying pressure on the wound to slow the bleeding.
Surely there must be someone in the Sun's Birth that had medicinal knowledge, but if there was, Alard didn't seem to want to go to them. Alard was silent for a long moment, clearly contemplating.
With a sigh, Aster removed the now bloody rag, wetting a second one with alcohol and wiping the wound clean. Alard grunted but stayed still, and Aster wrapped the third piece of cloth around his calf, tying it as tightly as she could before she put a solid knot in it.
"That will have to do," She murmured, gathering up the bottle and dirty rags, beginning to tidy up.
"If you had some more basic supplies," Alard suddenly spoke up, "You'd be able to treat me better, right? I wouldn't have to go seek some idiot out here, or worse, go to that damned doctor?"
Aster had no idea who the doctor he spoke of was, but she nodded. "For basic stuff. I can only do so much."
He mulled her words over for a long time as she put the bottle away and tossed the rags into the dirty laundry pile. "There's a shop for herbs," He finally spoke. "Can't remember what it's called. Herbology, or something. But it's in Daggerhand territory. If I showed my hide there I'd get a knife in my back faster than you could say 'petch'."
Aster watched him, practically seeing the wheels in his head turn. "And I wouldn't?" She asked, glancing at the brand on her hand. Alard ran a hand over his jaw, scratching at the stubble there.
"Give me a tick," He spoke, before standing to rummage around the chest of drawers he kept his clothing in.
Which is how Aster found herself walking through the streets of the city, wearing brown leather gloves far too big for her hands, a rucksack, and with a carefully counted five gold mizas in her pocket.
"Only what's necessary, important, and useful," Alard had told her. "I better get my money's worth. If I find out you spent it on anything other than what comes back with you, there will be consequences, trust that."
Alard had at least had the decency to escort her to the river before giving her directions to head northeast. "You'll know you're in Daggerhand territory when you see a bunch of brutish idiots patrolling around like they own the gods-damned city," he growled, before leaving the Eth alone.
With little else to go on, Asterope had done her best to follow the directions given. She had no idea where she was going, though; at some point it did seem that perhaps the amount of armed men who seemed to be patrolling around increased, but it was difficult to say.
It took a bit of wandering around before Aster found where she needed to go; she didn't want to approach anyone for directions. She felt like a walking target, wandering around an unknown part of the city, clearly not having any idea where she was going; she tried her best to seem like she was just walking casually, but she doubted it was successful.
As she often was, Asterope was thankful for the collar around her neck...she hated it, but it was also a thing of safety. It marked her as a slave...somebody not worth the effort of robbing, since what money would a slave in ragged clothing have?
Aster entered the shop cautiously; a small bell tinkled above her head, announcing her presence. The smell of herbs hit Asterope like a wall, and she inhaled deeply; it wasn't unwelcome at all. Counters and shelves packed the small store, filled to the brim with herbs and tonics of all sorts.
As she peered around, a young woman approached her; despite eyeing her collar dubiously, she smiled politely at Aster. "Welcome to Hanhi's Herbologie. My name is Sara. Anything I can help you with?"
Aster nodded, smiling back hesitantly. "Please. I just need some basic things...herbs that can be applied to cuts mostly. Things for infection and to speed up healing, to lessen pain...if you have some bandages and the tools for stitches, maybe those, too?"
Sara nodded, leading Aster into the store. "Were you looking for herbs or already made medicine?"
"Just herbs, please. Some elentia for infection maybe..." Aster trailed off, wracking her brain. It had been so long since she'd had proper access to herbs that she had no idea what to look for. It was distressing. She felt like she was losing the one piece of herself she was trying so desperately to cling to.
"Belltor," Sara suggested. "It will help the wound heal faster and minimize scarring." Aster nodded thankfully, and the woman continued to speak as she fetched the herbs. "Jile to clean the wound, but you would have to make that into a medicine yourself..."
Aster shook her head; her resources were limited, and she doubted she could make much of anything. She really did just need the basics. "Alright then, no jile. Tolm for pain, maybe?"
With the herbs mostly collected, Aster suddenly recalled the book she had been reading over briefly last season, when she'd discovered the library. "Do you have rhinedale?" She asked, abruptly; the book, a journal of sorts, had said the ash of the...plant? Tree? Flower? Whatever it was, the ash had been used on a burn.
"Sure," Sara said, "Leaves or berries?"
"Leaves," Aster said, and they were added to the small pile she had amassed. Sara led Aster to the front, where the Eth paid and put the herbs in her bag, pleased to see she still had some change.
However, she paused when she went to put the rhinedale away. "Sorry if this is a strange request, but...is there any way you could burn this and mix it with some water in a small bottle?" The journal had specifically said rhinedale ash. Of course it was for herself, but Aster figured she could get away with it; after all, burns were a common injury...it couldn't hurt to be prepared for them.
Sara told her the new cost, including the price of the bottle and a little bit extra for preparation, and Aster forked over the extra money, receiving the bottle of ash paste in return. There wasn't much, but she didn't have money for more and a larger bottle, so it would have to do. "Thank you," Aster called, over her shoulder, as she left. She'd spent nearly all of the money Alard had given her, and hoped she had enough to satisfy him for the cost.
Once outside, Aster peered around before ducking down a nearby alley, leaning against the wall. She settled her bag firmly between her feet, and yanked the glove off her right hand with her teeth, holding the bottle of rhinedale ash in her other hand.
Somewhat clumsily, she shook some out onto the back of her injured hand; the damp ash was cool against her skin, and felt instantly soothing. She exhaled a breath, tucking the glove under her arm and putting the bottle away, gently rubbing the ash into the burn on the back of her hand; it was foolish, and a potentially fatal mistake, but she was no longer paying attention to her surroundings, focused on her injury instead.
She couldn't keep the ash on her hand, though. Alard would notice. She had to go find somewhere to wash it off before she returned...preferable not in the disgusting, muddy river. Holding her hand out, the scar of the eight-pointed sun obscured by the smeared ash but still visible, Aster hoisted up her bag and left the alley, still not entirely paying attention, nearly colliding with someone on her way out.
That morning, however, had seen Alard returning from his almost daily bout of training with a sizable gash across his calf. Aster clicked her tongue when he sat himself down heavily in a rickety chair, stretching his leg out.
Aster had avoided using her gift to age things on Alard's wounds, his words of warning from one of her first days in Sunberth still fresh and strong in her mind.
"Just be mindful out there. A lot of folk have never seen something like you, and if they're dumb enough, they might just think you've got some kind of magic," Alard's upper lip curled with disgust as he spat the word.
"Magic?" Aster asked, cautiously.
"Disgusting and unnatural. We're smart enough to know it's not welcome. So mind nobody's stupid enough to get the wrong idea about your sparkly bits; and I don't ever want you outside at dusk, you hear? Day or night, but not in-between. Someone sees you change like that, you're good as dead."
Aster swallowed, and gave a small, solemn nod.
So out of fear for how the gift would be seen, even though she was sure it wasn't magical, Aster hadn't used it. Kneeling in front of him, Asterope pursed her lips. "This is pretty bad," She said, sitting back on her heels, glancing around the room. She did her best to keep it organized, but Alard was always moving things around.
"No shyke it is," Alard grunted, as Aster finally located the pile of clean rags. Standing, she fetched a few, as well as the bottle of clear spirits stashed by Alard's bedside.
"I don't know if cleaning and wrapping it is going to be enough. It might need stitches, and something to put on it to help it heal certainly wouldn't be amiss," Aster continued, kneeling once more. She used a dry rag to wipe blood away, applying pressure on the wound to slow the bleeding.
Surely there must be someone in the Sun's Birth that had medicinal knowledge, but if there was, Alard didn't seem to want to go to them. Alard was silent for a long moment, clearly contemplating.
With a sigh, Aster removed the now bloody rag, wetting a second one with alcohol and wiping the wound clean. Alard grunted but stayed still, and Aster wrapped the third piece of cloth around his calf, tying it as tightly as she could before she put a solid knot in it.
"That will have to do," She murmured, gathering up the bottle and dirty rags, beginning to tidy up.
"If you had some more basic supplies," Alard suddenly spoke up, "You'd be able to treat me better, right? I wouldn't have to go seek some idiot out here, or worse, go to that damned doctor?"
Aster had no idea who the doctor he spoke of was, but she nodded. "For basic stuff. I can only do so much."
He mulled her words over for a long time as she put the bottle away and tossed the rags into the dirty laundry pile. "There's a shop for herbs," He finally spoke. "Can't remember what it's called. Herbology, or something. But it's in Daggerhand territory. If I showed my hide there I'd get a knife in my back faster than you could say 'petch'."
Aster watched him, practically seeing the wheels in his head turn. "And I wouldn't?" She asked, glancing at the brand on her hand. Alard ran a hand over his jaw, scratching at the stubble there.
"Give me a tick," He spoke, before standing to rummage around the chest of drawers he kept his clothing in.
Which is how Aster found herself walking through the streets of the city, wearing brown leather gloves far too big for her hands, a rucksack, and with a carefully counted five gold mizas in her pocket.
"Only what's necessary, important, and useful," Alard had told her. "I better get my money's worth. If I find out you spent it on anything other than what comes back with you, there will be consequences, trust that."
Alard had at least had the decency to escort her to the river before giving her directions to head northeast. "You'll know you're in Daggerhand territory when you see a bunch of brutish idiots patrolling around like they own the gods-damned city," he growled, before leaving the Eth alone.
With little else to go on, Asterope had done her best to follow the directions given. She had no idea where she was going, though; at some point it did seem that perhaps the amount of armed men who seemed to be patrolling around increased, but it was difficult to say.
It took a bit of wandering around before Aster found where she needed to go; she didn't want to approach anyone for directions. She felt like a walking target, wandering around an unknown part of the city, clearly not having any idea where she was going; she tried her best to seem like she was just walking casually, but she doubted it was successful.
As she often was, Asterope was thankful for the collar around her neck...she hated it, but it was also a thing of safety. It marked her as a slave...somebody not worth the effort of robbing, since what money would a slave in ragged clothing have?
Aster entered the shop cautiously; a small bell tinkled above her head, announcing her presence. The smell of herbs hit Asterope like a wall, and she inhaled deeply; it wasn't unwelcome at all. Counters and shelves packed the small store, filled to the brim with herbs and tonics of all sorts.
As she peered around, a young woman approached her; despite eyeing her collar dubiously, she smiled politely at Aster. "Welcome to Hanhi's Herbologie. My name is Sara. Anything I can help you with?"
Aster nodded, smiling back hesitantly. "Please. I just need some basic things...herbs that can be applied to cuts mostly. Things for infection and to speed up healing, to lessen pain...if you have some bandages and the tools for stitches, maybe those, too?"
Sara nodded, leading Aster into the store. "Were you looking for herbs or already made medicine?"
"Just herbs, please. Some elentia for infection maybe..." Aster trailed off, wracking her brain. It had been so long since she'd had proper access to herbs that she had no idea what to look for. It was distressing. She felt like she was losing the one piece of herself she was trying so desperately to cling to.
"Belltor," Sara suggested. "It will help the wound heal faster and minimize scarring." Aster nodded thankfully, and the woman continued to speak as she fetched the herbs. "Jile to clean the wound, but you would have to make that into a medicine yourself..."
Aster shook her head; her resources were limited, and she doubted she could make much of anything. She really did just need the basics. "Alright then, no jile. Tolm for pain, maybe?"
With the herbs mostly collected, Aster suddenly recalled the book she had been reading over briefly last season, when she'd discovered the library. "Do you have rhinedale?" She asked, abruptly; the book, a journal of sorts, had said the ash of the...plant? Tree? Flower? Whatever it was, the ash had been used on a burn.
"Sure," Sara said, "Leaves or berries?"
"Leaves," Aster said, and they were added to the small pile she had amassed. Sara led Aster to the front, where the Eth paid and put the herbs in her bag, pleased to see she still had some change.
However, she paused when she went to put the rhinedale away. "Sorry if this is a strange request, but...is there any way you could burn this and mix it with some water in a small bottle?" The journal had specifically said rhinedale ash. Of course it was for herself, but Aster figured she could get away with it; after all, burns were a common injury...it couldn't hurt to be prepared for them.
Sara told her the new cost, including the price of the bottle and a little bit extra for preparation, and Aster forked over the extra money, receiving the bottle of ash paste in return. There wasn't much, but she didn't have money for more and a larger bottle, so it would have to do. "Thank you," Aster called, over her shoulder, as she left. She'd spent nearly all of the money Alard had given her, and hoped she had enough to satisfy him for the cost.
Once outside, Aster peered around before ducking down a nearby alley, leaning against the wall. She settled her bag firmly between her feet, and yanked the glove off her right hand with her teeth, holding the bottle of rhinedale ash in her other hand.
Somewhat clumsily, she shook some out onto the back of her injured hand; the damp ash was cool against her skin, and felt instantly soothing. She exhaled a breath, tucking the glove under her arm and putting the bottle away, gently rubbing the ash into the burn on the back of her hand; it was foolish, and a potentially fatal mistake, but she was no longer paying attention to her surroundings, focused on her injury instead.
She couldn't keep the ash on her hand, though. Alard would notice. She had to go find somewhere to wash it off before she returned...preferable not in the disgusting, muddy river. Holding her hand out, the scar of the eight-pointed sun obscured by the smeared ash but still visible, Aster hoisted up her bag and left the alley, still not entirely paying attention, nearly colliding with someone on her way out.
