Chapter 17

Atraeya carefully placed the three mushy bottles in her basket, hoping they wouldn't cut through the woven wood in the time it took to get home. She didn't want to risk any leaking out, in neither waiting for it to dry, nor from dropping it. She walked home carefully, her eyes repeatedly drawing back to the covered basket. Atraeya even tried her best to walk normally, slowly, eyes straight ahead. One foot in front of the other.

"I can't believe them! Can you believe it?" one woman said to another woman. They were both walking down the road opposite of her, food in hand.

The friend huffed and shook her head. "The nerve of them, asking for a war tax on top our rent in the same month."

"What is Lord Brockrote doing in the capital if he can't even get that forgone after the sounder attack that he failed to cull."

"The next few months are going to be a disaster if not even his wife could talk some sense into him."

"Did she even try?" One woman tsked. "Judging by the last time she visited, she seemed a lot more… quiet."

"That's true. I did hear she became sick recently. Maybe she's still effected?"

"That's still no excuse! They're nobles, it shouldn't take long to write a letter." Upon closer inspection, Atraeya realized one of the women complaining was Devra. She smiled and waved as they passed by, and got a polite smile in return. "Good evening, Atraeya. Headed home? I don't think your grandfather would appreciate you walking in the door so dirty."

Atraeya gasped and glanced down, any questions about their gossip scattering to the wind. Her shoes had the regular amount of dirt, but the hem of her skirt showed visible signs of her wading in the river and playing with mud and clay. Her mind flashed back to the rant gramps had given her that one night and she shivered. "I… I need to go…"

Devra chuckled. "Don't forget your hands."

She didn't need to check, as she was now fully aware of all the dirt she was covered with from head to toe. The clay was no doubt still stuck under her nails. She needed to calm down. It was fine for now, as her plan involved her staying outside for a bit more. But once that was done, she feared another dip in the cold river was in her future. The cleaning potion had to be next, as soon as she could find something to act as potion vials.

"Do you think the hunting party Lady Brockrote is arranging will work?"

"We'll get some meat, at the very least. Can turn that into jerky."

"If they don't take it all in the first place." The ladies continued to gossip as they walked out of hearing range.

Before she could reach home, she passed by Mira's house. No one was outside, but she was sure Mira would appreciate the potion. Atraeya glanced around, making sure no one was watching, before heading around the back. It was a small garden. Whatever had been still growing was gone, as was all the root vegetables that the boars could dig up. The only crops left were sturdy stalks and anything that was out of reach. She reached in her basket, and pulled out of the bottles which was now collapsing in on itself. She needed to use these up fast.

Atraeya hastily poured the potion along the garden row. It was definitely less than what she poured in it earlier today. Was it leaking? She lifted her basket, checking its underside. There was a definitive wet spot where the three bottles sat, and some clay peaking through the cracks. For a brief moment she wondered if this was worth it. Her first potion was bound to have mistakes. Would it even make the intended effect? She gasped as her mind jumped to conclusions. Did she just kill the remaining food of the neighbor who had helped her so much already?

She looked on in horror at Mira's garden. It didn't immediately wilt. That meant it was fine right? Even if the potion had no effect at all, she would take that over negative effects in a heartbeat. If something went wrong, she didn't want to be in the center of the mess. Atraeya bolted out of there, and ran straight home.

Being on the edge of the town had its benefits. No one was around, so she could happily pour the potion into their own garden. Again, it didn't wilt. She watched it for a bit longer to ensure nothing bad would happen. Maybe it was due to the fading light, but she could have sworn the leaves looked a bit more vibrant. The sun had passed the horizon before she determined that it would be fine to use on the community fields.

Night came alive as she walked down the roads, and its humidity reached its peak. Her short wavy hair clung to her cheeks and the back of her neck, making her reconsider the dip in the river. She would have to either way, but if the river was still cool it might be fine after all.

Eventually she reached the community fields. As most of the farming folks worked early mornings before it got too hot, it was entirely deserted at this time of the evening. These fields also contained evidence of early harvest as a result of the sounder. It had mostly been cleaned up, with some parts replanted. She frowned. Atraeya didn't have enough potion to pour into the entire field. Not even before it started leaking. She could pour it on just the newly planted crops, but that would more than likely stand out.

After a bit of deliberation, she decided to stand in the center of the fields, and pour whatever was left in a circle around her, hoping it would spread out and work its magic. She did the same to the other field, and once satisfied with her work, broke up the bottles onto the field and spread them around each of its corners. Some of the potion might have been absorbed by the clay, and any drop should help.

"That should be good enough." With a brush of her hands, she made her way back through the roads and toward the river. It trickled on by, its waves reflecting the oranges and navy blues of the sky. It was clear enough in this area that she could see the gravel, rocky bottom.

She took off her shoes and socks, and only went in up to her knees, where the bottom two inches of her hem was submerged. She sighed in relief. It was refreshingly cool against the humidity. The dirt easily washed off her hands and under her nails, and with just a bit of bristling from some reeds, she managed to scrub most of the dirt off her hem. She even washed her face and neck. Some of it dripped onto her shirt, but she didn't mind. It felt nice after working all day.

She seemed to have passed gramps' own personal idea of cleanliness, as he didn't feel inclined to nag her about it when she walked through the door. "Tch. At least dry off before coming inside."

Atraeya couldn't possibly imagine how he was this nit-picky. She made a show of groaning about it before grabbing a towel to squeeze dry her clothes. Once she was dry enough it was time to eat dinner. "Do you know where I can get vials?"

"Vials? For what?" Gramps asked, his eyes squinted in suspicion.

"For the potions. I just realized the cottage doesn't have any."

"Hmm… We'll have to buy some the next time a merchant comes through. Shouldn't be long now. Probably next week."

"Why next week?"

"Didn't you hear? The Lady is organizing a hunting party. That brings in plenty of folk from all over, and merchants like to show up to sell their wares."

"So the hunt is next week?"

Gramps nodded. "One of them is bound to have vials. How many did you need?"

She took a moment to count on her fingers. "Maybe about… ten, to start with?" She didn't think that was too much, but gramps bit his tongue in surprise.

"Ten!? Do you know how expensive glass is?"

Atraeya paused. She remembered her parents complaining about its price sometimes, but they never mentioned anything specific. And if it was expensive back then, in the capital, it would most certainly be expensive now, in the middle of nowhere. "So a no then… What about just one?"

Gramps thought for a moment, before slowly nodding. "I can spare the coin for one, but you'll need to find a different method of whatever it is you're doing."

"Then does anyone have a kiln?"

"I believe there's one by the Chief's house. She's in charge of it, but if you already have something you want to put in there, then just speak to Gorrat."

The bottles she made were rather ugly. It might be better if she just made jugs in various sized, and then should anyone need a potion, just pour the potion into a cup. Plus, a few large jugs would be less suspicious than a dozen small bottles. Satisfied with the plan she nodded to herself, and they went back to eating dinner in silence. The glass vial would be a gift to Mira, and she would use the jugs the rest of the time.

The next day, she went in the direction of the chief's house. Chief Trina fixed her leg, so she wasn't that scary anymore. Atraeya just needed to watch her words. She peeked around a corner. The chief was standing around, talking to a few people. She watched them for a moment, listening to their conversation. It seemed they were trying to get things ready for the hunting party next week. They needed to sharpen blades, ready extra arrows, salt for the meat once it's hunted. A lot of effort went into it. No wonder merchants would visit. The village would need to either buy anything they couldn't make or sell off anything extra.

Once there was a lull in the conversation, she inched her way forward. Eventually Chief Trina noticed her. "How are you feeling, Atraeya?"

"Much better. Thank you for fixing my leg."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I'm glad you feel well enough to walk around," Chief Trina said with a smile.

Atraeya sucked in some air, ready to state her request but still a bit nervous. "Can I commission some clay jugs? Gramps said to ask you."

"I suppose with the hunting party coming up, Elmer would need some extra storage for the food with you here. How many did you need?"

"Um. Just 3 will be fine for now."

"That can be done. Come back tomorrow, then."

Atraeya nodded, said her thanks, and left the adults to adult things. With that all done, she spent the rest of the day foraging in the forest with Poe and the rest of the village kids. She managed to find more wild strawberries, which she dropped in her oatmeal the next day. A nice change of pace from the usual blandness.

She found the three jugs just fine. They were the perfect size for a batch of potion. In the end it only cost a few coins, which gramps had lent her before she left. When empty, she could carry them just fine, but only one at a time. And trying to fit them all in her basket left it at a fragile angle. She carefully and awkwardly carried them out to the cottage, half in her basket, and half desperately clutching the bits hanging off.

Atraeya had gotten used to being alone in the cottage, hearing only the birds and other small critters rustling about. Which was why when the door flung open she screamed her heart out. Poe stood at the door, arms crossed with fury. "Why do you keep coming back here?" he nearly shouted.

"Are you serious?! You couldn't have knocked at least?! I nearly broke my new jug thanks to you!" Atraeya clutched the fragile clay jug in her hands with the strength of a newborn ape hanging onto it's mother's shoulders. It had nearly fallen from the counter when Poe had burst through. "And why do you want to know?"

"'Cause you keep leaving me to come back here!" He clenched his shaky little hands into balls, and spoke in a lower, calmer tone, "You're the first new person I've seen my age, and you won't even hang out with us."

Atraeya instantly felt bad. What he said was true, but not for any snobbish reason like he thought. It simply was too dangerous for him to be near here, especially when it was time to make potions. "I'm sorry, Poe. It wasn't my intention. But it's dangerous, you shouldn't be here."

"I could say the same to you! Why do you keep coming back here?"

She bit her lip, not really wanting to say why. If she did, she could lose him forever. But if she didn't, and he snuck around while she made potions, she could lose him forever. Well, better alive and scared. She turned away from him, and placed the jug on the counter, slowly, trying to stretch time itself. She didn't want to see his face when she revealed her utter betrayal to him. "I… It's because… I'm a witch."

She squeezed her eyes shut, wringing her hands together for the moment Poe would explode at her. The quietness stretched on, and she couldn't hear anything except the birds outside. Best get used to those sounds. Being a witch was a lonely rode. Eventually she peaked an eye open. Poe was still there, miraculously. He watched her with wide open eyes, as if seeing for the first time. His whole worldview had crashed all around him and Atraeya didn't dare move for fear of snapping him out of it in the wrong direction.

His whole body looked like he wanted to run, but his mouth kept opening and closing, a million questions on his lips. Eventually he spoke. "How?"

Atraeya blinked. "How" was not a question she expected, if any at all. She supposed it was a good sign that he didn't immediately scream and run away. "Well, I don't know how someone becomes a witch. I only found out I was one because I followed the smell of mana to another witch."

"No, I mean, how is it dangerous? You said being here was dangerous."

"Oh. Active mana is dangerous to non-witches. I didn't think it was that bad until gramps collapsed when I tried to make a potion at home. But if you stay here when I'm making a potion, the same could happen to you too."

Poe's eyes turned to what was behind her. Shelves full of ingredients, a cauldron, a wand, brand-new jugs. His eyes widened, and he gasped a little, truly seeing them for the first time. He glanced back at her, and his shoulders slumped, understanding finally dawning on him. "How could we be friends if you're a witch…?" he mumbled.

Atraeya clasped his hands in hers. Beams of sunlight shone through the windows on them. Her eyes sparkled with determination. She didn't want to lose her only friend. "We can still be friends! I won't make any bad potions, I promise!"

Poe subconsciously took a step back, temporarily overwhelmed by her sudden passion. Then glanced between their hands and her face. What he saw must have convinced him, because he gave a small nod. "All right. What did you plan on making today?"