Cat in Cold Water (Elyra)

[Simeon Aytak]

12th Day of Fall, 514AV

There was an intricacy to a herbalist's craft, one that was curious to observe, but difficult to understand. The difference between life and death might be the way you treated a plant - to dry it, or to boil it? The difference between paralysis and a gentle, even pleasurable numbing sensation might be the way you administered it - poultice, or pill? Such was the danger, and the delight of his craft. In the art of herbalism, there was only a subtle barrier between poisoning and healing someone - and Simeon was Sunberth's most devoted artist.

It was late morning, about eleven hours after midnight, and Simeon was in his usual haunt at the Seaside Market. All around him were people thronging in the crowds, half of them actual customers, with the other half made up of people who preyed on the customers. Brute muggers, pickpockets, cutpurses, stab-and-runners, and many more of the larcenous sort freely mingled amongst the crowd. There was also a spattering of dynastic thugs who roamed from store to store, demanding protection money. Simeon, personally, was quite free of worry when it came to these things. It was one of the advantages of being a man of medicine. You didn't want to rob a person who you might need to rely on to save your life the very next day, after all. Sunberth was a place of such lawless savagery that injury was as commonplace as breathing, at times. Therefore, harming a herbalist was somewhat counter-productive.

This day found Simeon toiling away at his herbal craft, as usual. He was busy drying a few sprigs of basil. By themselves, chewed raw, they would whet a lost appetite. If dried, and then ground into powder, they became an effective diarrhea cure. If he could somehow compress it into a pill - the skills of which were currently beyond him - he might be able to make household ready remedies. But that was a task for another time.

[Elyra]

For the young Kelvic, the previous day had been absolutely disastrous. A perfectly fine day ruined by a trace amount of water on the docks was not, by any stretch of the imagination, her idea of a good time. Large quantities of water were scary enough to anyone who couldn't swim, but they got even scarier when submerged in them. She was perfectly dry now, but it had been a struggle, and her fur had stayed wet much longer than she'd hoped it would.

Unfortunately, she hadn't been aware of the consequences of taking a prolonged dip in the water. Since she'd awoken that morning, she'd been unnaturally hot. Not only did she have a fever, she had a dreadful cough that refused to go away no matter how many times she hacked.

Eventually, Elyra realised this might be a serious problem.

Stashed in the collapsed ruins of an abandoned house was a backpack that contained the only material possessions she owned. Clothing, survival supplies, and most importantly her hoard of mizas-six hundred of them, all gold rimmed, at her last count. It was to this hidey-hole Elyra padded now, her tail dragging behind her in the dirt. Her arrival was swift, and presently she stood in front of the house.

Before she went inside the ruined home, she took a moment to evaluate the condition of it. Had anything changed? Any boards shifted, any chunks missing? Satisfied that nothing was there, she crouched low to the ground and shimmied her way inside underneath a pair of collapsed boards that were just high enough off the ground to accommodate her in human form, if she flattened herself as much as humanly possible. Her fur tended to stick on the wood, a feeling she disliked immensely, so she kept low even as a cat.

Once she was inside, she made her way to the largest corner of the building and laid down inside it, careful to make sure she had enough room on all sides. It had taken her quite a while to become comfortable changing forms in the house-almost a full season she'd waited until it was dark, then literally dragged the pack out with nothing but her feline mouth. That had been downright unpleasant. There was a bright flash of light, and then there was no longer a cat-simply a dusty, unclothed human.

She struggled to pull her clothing on, oddly unused to her human shape. When she managed to dress herself, she grabbed the pack and what remained in it before sliding out under the same two boards. Her shirt had gotten a good deal dirtier in the process. Sighing, she dusted off the fabric and swung the pack over her shoulder, getting a good breath of dust as she did so. A brief coughing fit ensued to clear the particles from her throat. Then a quick pull of her fingers through her hair to straighten out the mess that it surely was. Her destination would be the public marketplace, for she was certain that help could be obtained there.

Presently, she arrived, keeping her ears open and her mind clear to listen in on the many conversations that took place every day in Sunberth. A man with his hand in another's pocket was deemed not worth a second glance. A woman peddling weapons, promising they were of Isurian make at a fourth of the cost? Though she needed some means of defense, a shoddy weapon would not be that means. Elyra would find something else at a later time. She continued to scan the crowd.

There! A bulky man focused intently on several herbs in his hands. Perhaps he had herbal remedies. If he did not, then he might be able to direct her to someone who did. She approached him swiftly, pausing mid-stride to tuck her mouth into her elbow and cough twice. When she reached him, she cleared her throat to find her voice. A false start was her first attempt. She tried again-raspy, but at least she could speak.

"Excuse me? I'm seeking a herbalist-I seem to have come down with a bit of a cough." As if to confirm the validity of her statement, she leaned to the side, turned her head,and coughed again.

[Simeon Aytak]

The raspy voice of someone afflicted with a throat condition was cause enough for an inquisitive Simeon to raise his head, canting it slightly to do a quick up-down of the girl who approached. It was what was known in merchant circles as "appraising clientele" - Did they look like they could afford what they needed or wanted? Were they going to merely show interest but not buy anything? Were they going to buy something, but shy away as soon as you tried to be friendly? There were many types of customers, and a good merchant with a keen eye could identify them all. But Simeon was not an exceptional merchant. He peddled his services, but that was largely the limit of the relationship between the word 'merchant' and Simeon. Fortunately, he had enough knowledge of medicine - in particular, basic diagnosis - that he could easily tell that the svelte, chocolate-haired girl before him had a cough, judging from voice alone. When she started coughing moments later, it only confirmed his suspicions. "I am a herbalist, yes. Come, let me see."

Standing up without another word, Simeon started to walk around the girl, observing her skinny stature - skinny, but not too starved, meaning she had some money to her name - but it didn't look like the slenderness was out of vanity either. So why the slim figure? Natural metabolism? Or perhaps, sickness leading to an already-skinny person to get even starved? The eyes were dilated, and almost feline. Or maybe serpentine? He was not aware of any illness that did that. He had no idea how to treat it, so he moved on to other things. Swaying on the spot, unsteady balance, and unused to the unsteadiness - someone who was usually very graceful, and so something was knocking her off her usual rhythm. "You may have an inflamed throat, or it could be a simple cough," he said. "Although I suspect you may also have a fever, which would make my hypothesis about your throat inflammation much more probable."

He observed the flush of her cheeks, nodding to himself, and reached out towards her face with one hand. "May I?" he inquired politely, holding his hand out near her forehead, but withholding the touch of his fingers against her skin until she gave her permission; his free hand stroked the scruffy, untamed beard around his face absentmindedly. Unlike most young male Benshira, Simeon sported a wild beard rather than go about clean-shaven. His vivid violet-blue eyes were calm, and peaceful to look at, but they didn't tell an observer if he was an honest or deceitful man. In fact, the unshakable serenity of his gaze seemed to improve the facade of cool indifference surrounding him.

[Elyra]

No sound escaped the Kelvic's lips as she stood in front of the herbalist, allowing him to examine her as best as he could. Though her footing was solid today, unlike how it had been at the docks the other day, she swayed from side to side as if she was a boat docked in relatively calm waters. It was unsettling for Elyra to be so unstable on her own feet. These were the same feet that rarely steered her wrong, that allowed her the graceful speed of movement she prized herself on. Was she vain? Occasionally. Most people were, after all, prone to the occasional fit of vanity. The young woman's weak areas were the catlike features that transferred with her no matter which form she took. Her eyes with wider pupils slit vertically. Her teeth, sharper than a human's should be in order to slice through tough meat. The cocoa shade of her hair, reminiscent of the fur that coated the cat's ears, paws, and tail. And, of course, her feline walk and manner.

She felt dwarfed by the man who examined her, bulky and tall as he was. The feline drew herself up to her full height in hopes of gathering more courage than she possessed most of the time. A blink, long and slow, followed by the curl of her lips upwards. "Thank you for helping me," rasped Elyra, inclining her head as she spoke in a nod. She was hesitant to allow a stranger to touch her face, but this man was an herbalist and would be able to help her.

As he took her temperature, she introduced herself to him. "My name is Elyra. I was...out for a walk yesterday. My path took me near the docks, and I fell in the water," she explained, omitting the fact that the fiasco had occurred while she was a cat. She was still not sure if she could trust this man. The only impression she got from him was one of indifference, of a man who either had no feelings or deliberately guarded them from others. Not surprising in Sunberth, and a habit that the feline would do well to pick up.

[Simeon Aytak]

Simeon nodded slowly as she explained her circumstance, feeling the singe of her skin against his fingertips. He moved his hand away, pressed it to his own head, and then held his fingers against her forehead again. The contrast made it easier to gauge - and his diagnosis was not good for her. So she fell in the water, either by accident, or to avoid pursuit - either way, he did not care. Being a herbalist in Sunberth meant that all sorts needed your help, though most of the time people who needed medical attention in Sunberth tended to lean towards the wrong side of the law. Though 'law' was a poor choice of word in Sunberth. The deadlier side of anarchy, perhaps?

"I see, I see, the temperature is clearly well over normal, and the disorientation speaks volumes..." he murmured, more to himself than to her. The indifferent, though calming stare affixed itself on her eyes. Serpentine slits. When she spoke, he saw extended canines, not uncommon, but when it was that pronounced, slightly abnormal. The animalistic features hinted at a Kelvic in human guise. His suspicions, though, were hard to confirm, since the Kelvic were a largely xenophobic race - and for good reason, he supposed. His time as a slave saw them either as pampered pets or exotic menagerie-dwellers. The skilled ones, with talent in music or dance, were used as entertainers. Many other slaves considered them lucky. He suspected the Kelvic themselves considered a caged life little more than torture. Simeon had found it had to tolerate over two decades of slavery as a man. If you could fly, soar, and take to the skies, or journey the depths, or rush through the jungle canopy using tree branches as an extension of your limbs ... he suspected confinement of such freedom was little better than death in their eyes.

And so he kept his suspicions to himself, but made a mental note in his head. If she was comfortable enough with it, she could confirm his suspicions. If not, well, he didn't care that much, but he wanted to try poisoning her at least. Common remedies for her condition included the liberal use of onions, and garlic, but those two were beneficial for humans, they were poisonous to animals, in particular household ones, like cats and dogs, as well as horses. If she was truly a Kelvic, he wasn't sure how it would affect her. Poison or cure? Half-half? Better safe than sorry, and avoid them altogether. Simeon removed his hand and started running his fingers through his mangled beard again, nodding to himself. "Well, Elyra. You have a fever, which is likely to worsen without treatment. The fever has exacerbated the cough, so you have an inflamed throat. Both of which are compounded by dizziness and disorientation. If you had not come to me within the day, you would have also experienced nausea, and possibly delirium. Thankfully, I have only a few things to treat."

Turning his back on her, Simeon squatted, lifted an empty iron pot, and dipped it into the boiling water of his brazier, and begun sifting through the herbs on his outspread blanket. The fever wasn't that high - yet. No need for anything too complex. His fingers wandered over the blanket, and stopped over some pale green leaves that smelled of citrus. "Lemon balm for the fever," he murmured, tossing the leaves into the iron pot, and reached for a mossy-green pile of dried leaves. With one hand, he ground it up while holding it over the pot, and then held up a saucer, and emptied liberal amounts after the leafy powder. "Honey and thyme for your cough," he said while casually chopping up a bulky piece of ginger into tiny cubes, and emptying the lot into the pot, then he sparked a fire under the pot with flint and steel, and watched it simmer. "And a bit of ginger to steady your feet. It will be ready in fifteen minutes or so, most potent in twenty, and useless at thirty. So I don't recommend you wander off, or I'll be left with a useless pot of mush."

The deadpan tone and the passive expression almost made his words seem serious, before an almost gentle smile cut through his scruffy bearded appearance. "But I jest. Still, do sit down. Standing is doing you no favors - Elyra."

[Elyra]

When the herbalist withdrew his hand from her face, he took another moment to study her face. His gaze went to her eyes, then her teeth. This would normally be of little concern to her, but this man seemed observant. Was it possible that he knew what she was?

Anything was possible, she supposed, but if he knew that she was Kelvic it could mean certain doom for her. Kelvics made incredibly popular slaves, a lifestyle she had absolutely no interest in. Freedom was important to her. After a moment of him mentioning nothing, she arrived at the conclusion that if he did know what she was, then he was choosing not to mention it. This she was silently grateful of. No matter his intentions, anyone else could overhear that conversation and decide a free Kelvic was worth capturing and enslaving.

Fever, cough, dizziness...no surprise there. The surprise was in the symptoms that she could have experienced had she waited any longer-nausea? Delirium? Neither appealed to her remotely. She winced, grateful she'd elected to seek medical attention.

As he began to work on the concoction for her, Elyra paid close attention to the work his hands and the specific herbs be mentioned. Perhaps this would come in handy if she ever needed it again. Lemon balm was the first thing he selected, for her fever, apparently. It was a pale plant, appearing gray to her. Though she couldn't tell from the distance she was at, she wondered what gave the plant its name. Perhaps it tasted like lemons. She supposed she'd find out later when this was ready. Next was a pile of dried leaves a darker shade of gray, which he called time. The feline had never heard a plant referred to as time before-was this a gift from the goddess Tanroa? Along with honey, he mentioned that the time would help her throat. Honey was something she knew well. Only once had she ever gotten a taste of pure honey, but it was sweet and sticky and had lingered on her tongue several chimes after the taste. Involuntarily, her tongue darted out of her mouth to lick her lips at the thought of the sweet substance. Next, his hands went to a strange-looking nubby tuber similar in appearance to a potato. This-ginger, to keep her steady on her feet-he cut into small cubes. It all went into the pot, and he lit a fire under it with flint and steel.

Before the words were even completely out of his mouth, she collapsed on the ground with an "oof!" and a chuckle. "My feet had the same idea, it seems," joked Elyra. A tilt of her head to look up at the herbalist followed by a question coming to her lips. "I believe I've introduced myself, but you have yet to. What's your name?" she asked.

[Simeon Aytak]

Simeon stuck a ladle into the pot and stirred it slowly, the clear water quickly turning into a shade of amber due to the heavy coloring of the honey and ginger overpowering the rest of the components. "People usually call me 'doctor', or rather, scream it out while running and flailing their arms and pointing at an injured person," he said casually as he set the ladle on top of the iron pot's edges in a vertical position to prevent it boiling over. "'Doctor! Doctor!' they go. Sometimes I also think 'Help!' can pass for my term of address. But if you require a name, I go by Simeon."

The herbalist was content to work in silence after this short introduction. Like many in the medical trade, he only spoke liberally when he treated or diagnosed. Without that driving purpose, he became something to a silent giant, brooding over his herbs as he lay them out in the sun and watched them shrivel up. A few hours, give or take, and the leaves and stalks of most herbs would dry up enough for you to crush them into powder with your hands alone. After nearly fifteen minutes had passed, he dipped the ladle into the iron pot and tasted the amber liquid, licking his lips, and nodding as he stirred it a little more. A warmth spread through his body, along with a light smoky sensation in his veins. He set the iron pot in front of her, with the ladle as a makeshift, if huge, spoon.

"Drink. You don't need to finish it all for it to be effective. A quarter's worth will do. But it does taste good, and you're paying for the whole pot anyway - so - why not?" a smile graced his usually fierce appearance.

[Elyra]

Simeon, then. Doctor Simeon.

Let's see...Simeon starts with an S, and he has a beard. A rather scruffy beard. Simeon, scruffy, beard. I think I can remember that just fine.

The technique of associating names with facial features worked wonderfully when one needed to remember a specific person. Elyra had utilised the tactic many times. If this concoction of the good doctor's worked, then the feline would have found herself a trustworthy herbalist to return to next time she was in need of medicine.

She was content to say nothing while she waited, just as it seemed Simeon was. Her gaze was focused on the pot and the contents in it, curious to see if anything was going to happen. If, for example, the pot started smoking and emitting a high-pitched squealing noise, she would get up and run as far away from the man and his equipment as possible. Cures be damned-a loud and unnatural noise was still a loud and unnatural noise.

Thankfully, nothing happened that was out of the ordinary and the wait was uneventful. When he deemed it ready, Elyra picked herself up off the ground and examined the fluid in the pot. Picking up the ladle, she spooned an experimental amount in her mouth and was pleasantly surprised by the taste. She drank the contents of the pot with gusto, enjoying the warmth that the hot brew provided.

Noting he'd mentioned payment, Elyra looked up at him when she was done with the concoction. "Ah, yes. What do I owe you for this?" inquired the feline, ready to pull out her coin purse. She'd do her best to talk him down on his price if he could, but if it couldn't be arranged? At least she had the cure.

[Simeon Aytak]

Simeon watched and waited as she sat opposite him, gulping down the contents of the pot. The resultant warmth would allow her to recover within a day's time at most. Though, the herbs would probably start making her feel better a lot sooner than that. The herbalist took the empty pot from her, scooped it into the brazier of boiling water, stirred it for a bit, and then emptied the contents on the fire under the pot casually, extinguishing it. Boil-cleaned, and so good as new and ready for the next customer.

When she asked for the cost, he did the mental calculations in his head. He was not a good mathematician, and so he had to run through the steps one by one rather than come up with an instant price. Two silvers for an ounce of lemon balm. One silver for an ounce of thyme. Two coppers for two ounces of ginger. One silver for the pint of honey. Added up, that was four silvers and two coppers. Multiplied by two for his trade expertise, and the total was...

"... You owe me eight silvers, and four coppers," he concluded. A quick smile in her direction. Her eyes sparkled with the intent of someone who wanted to bargain. It was always best to counter these attitudes with an attack on ego. "... And I'll knock off four coppers for a pretty lady. Will eight silvers suffice?"

[Elyra]

Reaching into her backpack for her coins, Elyra withdrew a handful of silver mizas. She tallied them quickly, noticed she'd pulled out seven, and took another from her bag. These she handed over to Simeon, the hint of a smirk gracing her features. There was an unspoken "yes, that will do just fine" in her actions, carried out deliberately to make sure she hadn't miscalculated. Math was not her strong suit.

"I'm flattered," replied the Kelvic as the silver-rimmed gems left her hand. Inclining her head, she continued. "I very much appreciate your services. Though I can't say I hope to require them again, you'll definitely be someone I return to in the future." She made sure her pack was closed before she turned around, offering Simeon a parting smile. Perhaps today she'd spend some more time in her human form than was the norm for her. It seemed that the day was definitely looking up.

Ledger-8 SM for Simeon's services.