As promised, Charles came with his crew as soon as the sun started peeking out in early morning, casting warm summer rays over the rolling fields outside Riviera. Li himself usually came out to work at this time, plucking weeds from the herb garden first as it had the most sensitive plants to tend.

Zagan lay farther out in the wheat field. He had a fondness for that particular spot. He was sprawled out in sleep or perhaps communicating with the Myrmeke that rumbled below, sharing tales about their master.

Old Thane worked alongside Li, kneeling in the dirt as his hands sifted through the earth to feel for weeds.

Charles and his crew tied their horses down to a stake on the main road, right beside the cottage, and came up to Li, belts full of tools clad around their waists. The horses had dragged many carts of wood, bricks, nails, and other building materials behind them.

“Morning, sir!” called out Charles. “As promised, I’m here to get started.”

Li patted Old Thane’s shoulder. “Builder’s here. Mind giving me a second?”

“Certainly, lad,” nodded Old Thane. “It feels a little unreal, it does, seeing us so close to having this farm back to its former glory.”

“Trust me, old man, I’m not going to settle for just former glory.”

____________

Li nodded as Charles sketched out his idea of the stall upon a piece of paper flattened out against a wooden block that acted like a clipboard.

The stall would be big enough to catch the eye of all travelers taking the main road. It was around half the size of the cottage and could even act as its own living space.

Apparently, industry standards had improved significantly since Aine had practiced, and now herbalist stalls were no longer glorified display shelves while the herbalist dirtied his or her own home with elixir brewing. They were bigger and better than ever before, streamlining the brewing and selling process into one building.

The stall wasn’t just some cute little stand to put flowers on to sell, it was a veritable lab. It had enough space for a fire to put a mixing cauldron upon and a ventilation system through multiple smaller chimneys that acted as fume hoods to vent out toxic herb gases.

Plenty of shelves existed for storing guiding tomes, seeds, and potted herbs. There would also be one large working table where Li would dust off Aine’s brewing tools, her beakers, flasks, pipettes, distillation kit, and so on to put to use after years of being ignored.

Part of the reason why Li had been able to learn so much of the craft in so short a time was not only his memorization skills, but also because he was, in his past life, a man of science. He was used to working in a lab, and he realized that an herbalist was very much similar in regard to what he used to do slaving away at his bio-engineering lab.

However, function wasn’t the only thing the stall cared about. There was also an open display for completed elixirs as well as a hanging signboard that detailed prices. If travelers were curious, they could look into the stall and see the person within working, adding a little performing flair to the whole process.

“This is perfect,” said Li. “But it’s pretty complicated. How long do you think this will take?”

Charles nodded several times, looking at the cottage and back at the plans. He was much calmer now, his constant shaking alleviated. He still had a little twitch when he got nervous, but it was more like a tick instead of something that completely dominated strangers’ impressions of him.

“Well, sir, I have very fine men, yes I do. Tried and tested handymen, part-time smiths, and accomplished runeworkers the whole lot of them.” Charles gave a thumbs up behind him, where his crew of ten builders smiled eagerly.

Some of them looked curiously at Li considering he was a foreigner, but Charles had obviously trained them not to be prying or ask questions as they were workers who needed to maintain professionalism. They were men of various heights and builds, but all of them had the same worn and worked builder’s hands that Charles had.

“And it isn’t the first time we’ve made something like this. We actually had a commission from the Black Vine, heard of it, haven’t you?”

Li shook his head.

“Well that’s a right surprise, considering you as a herbalist and all, but to explain, it’s the biggest pharmacy in Riviera. They wanted to put up another stall near the fishing docks. Anyways, it just means we’ve got what it takes, so let’s see.” Charles took his inked quill and tapped it on the wooden board a few times. “Two weeks, I reckon, working nonstop. And don’t you worry that we’ll starve. We’ve enough funds to last us through a whole winter, I reckon.”

“Excellent.” Li gave Charles an encouraging slap on the back and said, “Well then, I’m off to work. I’ll leave this to the experts.”

Before Li turned, Charles whispered out, “Sir? About last night, I’m truly sorry, sir, I understand my wrongs.”

Li stopped him. “It’s not my role to forgive you for where you went wrong. You must ask forgiveness from your children and Rosso. But know that I hold no ill-will against you so long as you have learned from the past.”

Charles let his eyes fall before he shook his head and looked up to meet Li’s gaze. “You’re right, sir. But since you’re the one that opened my eyes, I’d like to let you know that we’ll all be doing our very best.”

Li gave Charles an understanding nod before turning. “The very best is what I expect, so get on it.”

“Ah, sir, one more thing.”

“Hm?”

“For your stall’s sign, the one that’ll enter the official registries and pop up in the signposts, do you have any ideas for a name?”

Li smiled. “Arboretum.”

______________________

At sunset, when the blue skies filled with mellow oranges and warm reds, the builders packed up and left. They left their materials out by the cottage and covered them with tarps so that the rain didn’t corrode them. They had finished the foundation of the stall, digging out a neat, rectangular pit lined with wood and covered with a tarp to prevent rainfall from leaking in.

By this time, Li and Old Thane had also finished working, having weeded and pruned and tended to all they could. They sat over mugs of rune-chilled water as they reclined in their chairs and looked out the window, watching as the builders started shrinking in the distance, their forms growing darker as the sun set further.

Li glanced at the potted herbs at the windowside. These were the illegal magical ones they had taken from Vincentio. The magical herbs, the mist poppy, fumegrass, and spriteseed, were growing fantastically fast, mystical power flowing through their xylem and phloem nourishing them.

Where the night before they were just little shoots shyly peeking out from their pots in the cottage, they were now visible stems with leaves growing. In a few days, at this rate, they would grow taller and start to bear their fruits.

The mist poppy would burst forth in beautiful arrays of orange and red flowers. The fumegrass would begin growing little branches covered in thick, grass-like bushy leaves that smelled like gasoline. The spriteseed stem would curve and become bulbous at the end, forming little holes that would whistle like faerie sprites if wind passed through them.

“It feels mighty good to work up a sweat again,” said Old Thane as he downed his water and slammed the mug down on the table. “It really does seem that sitting around disagrees with me, Li. Hah, to think that some believe old age a time to rot away on cushioned pillows!”

“Sometimes I wish you’d have a little less energy in you, old man,” joked Li.

A rustle sounded overhead, as if something big had landed on the roof. Li saw as a massive feather slowly wafted down the window.

“A bird?” said Li.

Old Thane put his hand down on the table with quite a bit of energy. “Oh! It’s a carrier! My, I haven’t gotten a delivery in years!”

“Oh, right.” Li nodded. He had heard about carriers from Old Thane sometime ago, in one of his many stories.

They were essentially the mail system of this world. In Soleil, there were four main cities in each of the cardinal directions, and these cities held crown-funded institutions called the Voliere that trained rocs, low level monsters that looked like giant birds, to carry delivery packages across the rest of the duchy.

The mailing service was too expensive for a commoner to use without a government issued voucher for official business, so it was extremely rare for a roc to ever land on a farm out in the outskirts Riviera, the most peaceful and uneventful of the four cardinal cities of Soleil.

Li had a feeling he knew what it was, though.

“I’ll check it out.”

When he came out, the roc fluttered down from the roof. It looked like an eagle the size of a man, its massive talons tightly grasping a fortified rope upon which dangled a sealed wooden chest.

The roc took a good look at Li with its forward facing, fierce avian eyes that looked like it wore a permanent scowl. Once it identified Li’s face, it squawked before dropping the rope and letting the chest fall a tiny height to the soft grass.

“Thanks,” said Li to the bird, and the bird bowed its head in knowing appreciation of a forest spirit. It pushed off from the ground, its huge wings flattening the grass below it as it soared into the sky.

Li examined the chest.

A rune inscribed on a piece of solidified wax had been stuck onto it that prevented deterioration and applied minor defense against the elements: a common rune to place on deliveries. The better and more secure the rune, the more expensive the price to deliver.

Li tore off the wax seal and the box opened. Inside were seeds. Almost a hundred of them. He smiled as his knowledge came to use. He could spot Flameweed, Wraith peppers, bone bean, goblin grass, and other mystical plants. All of them were key components to use for elixirs meant to break bones and burn flesh rather than patch up scars and soothe aches.

These were the herb seeds that Sylvie had promised. Though Li did have to wonder why the adventurers hadn’t delivered them by themselves. It had barely been two days since he last saw them. But the question was quickly answered when he found a letter at the bottom of the chest, beneath all the seeds.

Li unfolded the letter. The handwriting was elegant with long, curly strokes. One could mistake it for the writing of a noble or a trained scholar, someone who had dedicated many hours into making sure they wrote well and right.

“To Li and Thane,

As agreed upon, here is our end of the deal. It pains us that we could not grant you these seeds in person, but life has taken an errant turn so very suddenly. An official calling by the crown drives all silver-ranked and above adventurers along with their teams north to Montagne. From rumors and whispers, apparently a great Stone Drake has emerged from Mount Noir, enraged at a recent mining incursion into its territory.

By the time you read this, we will be on the rocky roads to the northern mountainlands. Azhar will be fighting off cart-sickness while Jeanne sings at an obnoxious volume. We haven’t the heart to tell her she sounds far different than she imagines in her head. If you could utter a prayer for my sanity, I would very much appreciate it, though you need not do so if you wish.

Regardless, when we return, we hope to see the fruits of your labor flower beautifully. We were too young to truly enjoy Aine’s skills firsthand, so we look forward to seeing her knowledge and love expressed through your hands.

Good wishes, health, and blessings to the two of you,

Sylvie, Jeanne, and Azhar.

As an aside – we know your herbalist’s exam is coming up, and we’ve heard some concerning things. It is not our place as adventurers to discuss our opinions on politics and laws, but next time you enter Riviera, ask around about the Contract of the Grasses”