Laughter is Medicine to

Time passed as everyone settled down and drank the Moonbell silver spring water Lena had prepared.

The cups glowed faintly in their hands, the Moonbell water shimmering like captured moonlight. Oreon took a careful sip and winced as the cool water touched his lips. A moment later, warmth spread through him in a gentle wave. The ache in his muscles eased, and the throbbing in his ankle dulled to something he could bear.

"This is..." He trailed off, staring at the cup in wonder. "This is incredible."

"Moonbell water blended with water from the Silver Springs," Lena explained quietly, her voice soft but proud. "It won't heal everything, but it eases pain and helps the body recover a little faster. Grandmother taught me how to make it a few years ago."

Celestia took a small, graceful sip from her cup and closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the taste. "It's wonderful," she said softly, gratitude warm in her voice. "Thank you, Ms. Lena. It's been so long since we've had anything this refreshing." She smiled and turned toward her sister. "Isn't that right, Syl—" Her words stopped short as she saw Sylvanie already tipping the whole cup down her throat.

Sylvanie drained the cup in one long gulp, tipping her head back until she'd swallowed every last drop. When she lowered it, she let out a pleased sigh and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Finally," she said happily, setting the empty cup on the table with a soft clink. "Something decent for once." She leaned back in her chair, looking completely satisfied.

Celestia stared at her sister, clearly embarrassed by her behavior. "Sylvanie, you're supposed to sip it slowly—"

"Why?" Sylvanie interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "It's water, not wine. And I was thirsty." She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's not just any water, child. It's actually an old elven elixir, one that I'm pretty sure doesn't get passed around your kind anymore, but I'm glad you've had your fill."

Sylvanie froze mid-stretch, her crimson eyes snapping to Meara. "Wait... what?" Her arms slowly dropped. “An elven elixir? What do you mean it isn't passed around anymore? And how do you know about it?" Her eyes narrowed with sharp curiosity.

Meara crossed to the counter, a faint, knowing smile on her lips. "Knowledge of Moonbell water has been fading for centuries," she said calmly. "Most elven kingdoms gave up the practice. It took too much time, the flowers were hard to grow, and Silver Springs were rare enough already. But Moonbells?" She shook her head. "They need moonlight, pure soil, and a careful hand. Most modern elves have forgotten how to cultivate them." Her smile deepened as she glanced back at the trio. "As for how I know, I've lived long enough to see my share of things, child. More than you've seen in your youth, I'd wager."

Celestia's eyes widened slightly, her cup stopping halfway to her lips. "You're right," she admitted softly. "Even in Vel'Andria, Moonbell cultivation was treated as a lost art. Only a few of our oldest herbalists still knew the proper methods." She looked down at her cup, her expression thoughtful. "Mother once said our ancestors grew entire gardens of them, but over time... that knowledge faded."

"Mother used to say elves today had grown lazy and stopped valuing the old ways," Sylvanie said, keeping her eyes on Meara, her expression caught between curiosity and suspicion. "But you're human. How does a human know more about elven practices than actual elves?"

Meara chuckled softly, still facing the counter as she sorted the herbs. "I traveled far and wide when I was younger, child. I learned from all sorts of people—elves, dwarves, and even a few wandering mages willing to share their secrets." She glanced back, green eyes bright with amusement. "Age has its perks. Live long enough, and you're bound to learn a thing or two."

Oreon, who had been quietly sipping his water, finally spoke up. "So...this is the stuff that elves used to drink to feel better?"

"Among other things," Meara replied, turning to face them fully. "Moonbell water was not only used to heal wounds or ease pain. It also played a part in rituals, ceremonies, and even blessings for newborns." Her expression grew more serious. "The Silver Springs water strengthens its effects. Together, they can restore more than the body—they can soothe the spirit as well." Meara glanced toward a nearby window, then toward the door they had entered through, before turning to Lena.

"It's time we wrapped this up," Meara said, her serious tone unchanged. "Lena, do me a favor and start closing the shop. Tell those ruffians to pack up and head home. The tavern is closed for the rest of the night, and no one gets to linger for free." She glanced toward the door. "Once I'm finished with these three, I'll come help you."

Lena quickly set down the pestle and nodded. "Yes, Grandmother." She headed toward the door leading back into the tavern, pausing only long enough to glance at Oreon with a small, sympathetic smile before slipping through.

The moment the door clicked shut behind her, the room's atmosphere shifted. Meara's expression hardened slightly—not with cruelty, but with the stern look of a mother ready to face the heart of a problem.

"Now then," she began slowly, her eyes moving over each of them in turn. "Let's talk about what comes next." Her gaze settled on Oreon. "You've been gone for a while, so you don't know what's been happening around here lately. Your father, the Purifier, has been busy. The Order has been getting lively these past few months, and security has tightened for reasons I don't know." Her expression darkened. "But we all know it can't mean anything good."

Oreon's expression darkened as his jaw tightened. He set his cup down on the table. "So he's making moves," he said quietly. "Figures. It's not like he has anything better to do with his time."

"More than simple moves, boy," Meara continued, her voice steady but grave. "There's talk—whispers in the town and across the region—that the Order is preparing for something big." She closed her eyes for a moment. "I don't know the details, but whatever it is, it has the soldiers on edge. They've been searching for someone or something, and the number of troops watching every town and village tells me something is definitely happening."

Oreon held Meara's gaze for a moment, then looked toward the two elves he had rescued. "Something big?" he repeated under his breath. "It can't be us. We only escaped a few hours ago." He brought a hand to his chin, then slowly lifted his eyes again. "Hey... you don't think this has anything to do with what that elf said before he died, do you?"

Celestia's eyes shot up instantly as her eyes met Oreon's. "The Divine Season...Down falls the Elves." She began to repeat Rot's final words. "Corruption chases the dwarves."

"Judge the beasts for the sins, for they are a cause no more." Sylvanie crossed her arms, gritting her teeth as she looked to the side. "Purify the lands; the non-humans will do." She added the next line as Oreon looked at the ground himself, knowing the final line of Rot's cryptic message.

"And to the humans who don't believe...Death will come to them to..." He finished grimly, his face deadly serious.

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of those words hanging in the air like a death sentence. Only the sound of the fireplace could be heard from the fire cracking within it.

Meara's face revealed nothing as she folded her weathered hands before her and let out a heavy sigh. "So..." she said slowly, turning back toward the counter. "That's what this is about." She breathed out through her nose, her gaze distant for a moment. "A prophecy—or at least, something your father has chosen to treat as one."

"Sounds like an excuse to show the world how he really feels," Oreon added, looking up at Meara. "Even more so, this is just sounding like a prelude to war."

"More like a full-scale purge." Sylvanie crossed her arms. "They already made their move against our kingdom."

"And they won't stop there," Celestia said softly, gripping the edge of the chair as her voice trembled. "If Rot was telling the truth, and the Order truly believes this prophecy, then every non-human race is in danger—the elves, the dwarves, the beastkin..." She lowered her gaze, her expression heavy. "They'll use divine will as an excuse for all of it."

"A hive full of zealots with mindless intentions, following those with even more dangerous desires." Meara closed her eyes for a moment before reopening them. "Well, we won't get anywhere skulking about it." She turned around to face the three. "It's time for your three to get some rest," Meara stated firmly.

"Rest?" Sylvanie's eyes narrowed in suspicion at Meara. "Just like that? Are you not going to ask us anything else? No questions about what happened to us? What we were doing, or—"

"I know enough, child," Meara replied calmly. "Besides, the boy wouldn't have brought you here if he thought you were a threat. He may be impulsive, but his judgment isn't lacking." She let out a weary sigh as Oreon looked up at her. "Now, enough with the needless suspicion. All this talk of 'what ifs' and 'prophecies' is making my old bones tired."

"I'll sleep in my old room, that is...If it's not stuffed with storage by now." Oreon spoke up.

Meara chuckled softly and shook her head. "Your room is just as you left it, boy—dust and all." She waved a hand toward the hallway. "I don't go in there much. I figured you'd come back someday, even if you took longer than I hoped."

Oreon's expression softened just slightly, though he tried to hide it. "Thanks, Meara."

Meara slightly turned her head back towards Oreon. "Don't thank me yet, boy, because you're taking the elves with you."

Silence dawned for a moment.

"WHAT?!" All three voices rang out in unison, though each carried a distinctly different tone.

Oreon shot up from his chair—immediately regretting it as his ankle protested—and gripped the edge of the table for support. "Meara, wait, my room is—"

"You heard me," Meara said calmly, barely turning around. "They're staying with you. Your room is big enough, and I won't put two escaped elves in a separate room where anyone might find them." She crossed her arms, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Besides, you brought them here. That makes them your responsibility."

Sylvanie's face flushed a deep red, her crimson eyes widening in disbelief. "You can't be serious— She started, but Meara cut her off with a raised hand.

"I'm perfectly serious, child." The old woman's tone stayed firm, leaving no room for argument. "This isn't some grand estate with spare rooms. It's a tavern. Space is limited, and discretion matters now more than ever." She turned fully toward them, her eyes sharp. "Besides, if soldiers come knocking in the middle of the night, it'll be easier to hide you if you're all together."

Celestia's face had turned a delicate shade of pink, her hands gripping the fabric of what was left of her tattered clothing. "B-But..." She stammered softly, clearly flustered. "Surely there must be another arrangement—"

"There isn't," Meara said flatly, cutting off any further protest. "And frankly, you can't afford to be picky right now." Her tone softened slightly. "I know this isn't ideal for any of you, but you'll make do with what we have. The room is large enough, there's bedding, and it's hidden from prying eyes."

Sylvanie opened her mouth to argue, but no words came. Her jaw moved silently for a moment before she huffed in frustration and slumped back in her chair. "This is ridiculous..."

"Welcome to reality, child," Meara replied dryly. "Now, enough talk." She walked to a drawer and rummaged through it, then pulled out a few simple garments—plain tunics and trousers, worn but clean. Turning back, she held them out to the sisters. "Here. These should fit well enough for now. I can't have you walking around in those rags."

Celestia accepted the clothing quietly. "Thank you," she said, her cheeks still faintly colored as she held the fabric against herself to check the size.

Sylvanie took hers with less grace, holding the tunic up skeptically. "Human clothes..." She muttered under her breath. "Degrading..."

"I wasn't aware that there was a difference between Elven and human clothing," Meara said, returning to the drawer to search again. "One would think you'd be grateful for the kindness being offered." She paused briefly. "Especially when kindness is in short supply these days."

Sylvanie narrowed her eyes but swallowed the retort on her tongue. Instead, she clutched the clothes tighter and turned away with a scowl.

"She is grateful," Celestia said quickly, shooting her sister a pointed look. "We both are…truly." She gave Meara a small, apologetic bow of her head. "You've done more for us in one evening than we had any right to expect."

Meara waved a hand dismissively as she continued searching through the drawer. "I'm just glad to know that not everyone has lost their manners." She said as she pulled out another tunic—this one slightly larger—and tossed it toward Oreon. "Here, boy. Change out of those bloodstained rags while you're at it."

Oreon caught it, wincing as the motion jarred his injured shoulder. "Right…thanks."

Meara nodded her head and glanced over at the two sisters. "There's a washroom that connects to the bedroom. You three should get washed up; the first thing to a good rest is a good bath." She paused as she quickly turned a quick glare at Oreon. "Separately, of course."

Oreon's face immediately flushed. "I—of course, separately!" He nearly hopped out of his chair. "What do you take me for?"

"A young man who's been living rough for months and just brought two beautiful Elven women into his room." She said bluntly. "So, forgive me if I feel the need to be explicit about expectations."

Oreon gasped, as if he was offended by Meara's statement. "Meara…I wouldn't…Why would you even…"

"As I said, you're a growing boy, Oreon. It's not uncommon for one your age to want to see a woman's body without its garments." Meara stated with her voice still firm. "Which is why I'm reminding you, I have rules in my establishment."

A smirk tugged at Sylvanie's lips as she spotted a chance to needle Oreon. "Oh, we know," she said, shifting her weight onto one foot and resting a hand on her hip. "On the way here, he commented on our clothes. Makes me wonder how long he was looking." Her grin widened like a cat that had cornered its prey.

Oreon's face went from pink to a deep crimson in an instant. "I—that's not--!" He sputtered, his hands rising defensively as he shot Sylvanie a glare of his own. "I was not looking! I said you needed to change your clothes because they were torn and you couldn't walk around like that!" He pointed at her. "And at the very least, I was making an observation!"

"You were eying our bodies." Sylvanie's smirk widened.

"I WAS NOT!" Oreon shot back. "I was only saying your clothes weren't fit for traveling, and people would notice!" He turned sharply toward Celestia. "Hey, big sister elf! Tell them I wasn't staring or thinking anything weird." He pointed at Meara and Sylvanie, who slowly looked to Celestia.

Celestia's face turned an even deeper pink as every eye shifted to her. To Oreon's surprise, a small mischievous smirk touched her lips. Her usual composure cracked just enough for a playful glint to show in her eyes. "Well..." she began softly, drawing the word out on purpose. "I wouldn't say you were staring exactly." Her smile grew a little. "However, if I remember correctly, your eyes wandered a bit too often whenever you looked our way." She closed her eyes and gave Oreon a sweet, devious smile. "Shame on you."

Oreon's jaw dropped. "You—You too?!" He looked utterly betrayed, his hand clutching his chest as if he'd just been stabbed in the heart. "I thought you were supposed to be the reasonable one! The mature one! The—" He flailed his arms at his side. "You're supposed to be on my side here!"

Celestia's smile only widened a bit. "I am being reasonable." She said sweetly, tilting her head just slightly. "I'm simply recounting what I observed—"

Sylvanie burst into laughter, rolling on the floor behind Celestia as Oreon glared at her.

"Shut up, you crazy elf!" he yelled, more flustered than angry.

Meanwhile, Meara just watched the spectacle unfold, her body softening at the scene as a small smile slid across her face before she lightly clapped her hands together. "Alright, Alright…Enough of this nonsense." She said gently.

The laughter slowly faded, though Sylvanie still wore a wicked grin as she wiped an imaginary tear from her eye. "Oh... that was good," she muttered, amusement still coloring her voice.

Celestia cleared her throat delicately, her cheeks still faintly flushed as she regained her composure. "My apologies," she said softly, though there was still a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes. "That was…unbecoming of me."

Oreon crossed his arms, still looking thoroughly flustered. "Unbecoming is right," he grumbled under his breath.

Meara shook her head, the same gentle smile lingering on her lips. "It's good to see you three still have some spirit left in you," she said warmly. "Laughter is medicine too—sometimes better than any herb or potion anyone can brew." She gestured toward the hallway again. "Now then... off with you all. Get cleaned up and get some rest while you can."

She paused, then added in a more serious voice, "And, boy—" Her tone sharpened just enough to make him straighten. "I meant what I said about my expectations. Keep it decent."

"I know, I know," Oreon muttered quickly, avoiding eye contact as he grabbed the tunic Meara had tossed him earlier and limped toward the hallway.