Painful Potion

 Clair awoke with a start as the soft thudding behind the far door at the end of the cabin grew in volume, opposite where she lay near the front door. She couldn't deny hearing it, just audible over Measles' soft snores and Mumps' wheezing snores from the bedroom to the left of the front door. The sound was not on the far door itself but sounded far deeper, and she decided it was best to leave it alone. But as she was now awake, she rose from the table she had fallen asleep on, careful not to wake Measles' as she gently moved the head of the sleeping goblin off her leg. She stood up and quietly stepped across the room, peaking into the bedroom door to look over Mumps. His breathing was shorter than usual, the occasional wheezing breaths interrupting shallow ones.

He does not look good was the extent of Clair's assessment, but she could see that he appeared better than before they had arrived. The cloak had been untied, set aside with his leg more exposed, the rolled up pant leg revealing more of it than when Clair had hastily wrapped his cloak to try and slow the bleeding. Though Measles' makeshift tourniquet was still in place, it had clearly been attended to and set back into shape, just as Charlotte had implied she that had inspected and treated him. Clair was almost thankful for the darkness of the very early morning, not long before the sun should rise, obscuring the sight with only long shadows cast by the sole remaining candle.

She heard a clink of glassware from the other side of the cabin and noticed the sliver of light under the door Charlotte had gone into earlier. She could hear a faint bubbling and muttering coming from behind the door. Against her better judgement, not wanting to wake either of the sleeping twins, she slowly cracked the door open.

Charlotte was standing beside a cauldron, stirring with a wooden stick, occasionally reaching behind her for a bottle of this or a cup of that, tossing it into the liquid. She was muttering to herself such that Clair couldn't make out what exactly it was she was saying. Clair watched as she seemed to walk around and choose the ingredients arbitrarily, some tossed in immediately and others held onto for few seconds, bringing them close as if praying over them before depositing them in with the rest.

She stepped around a bit closer to the door and finally saw Clair, locking eyes with the girl. Her eyes darkened as she yanked the wooden paddle out of the pot and rushed at the door. Clair stepped back, afraid she had offended Charlotte by spying and expected the heavy door to be slammed in her face. Instead, Charlotte threw open the door and yanked Clair inside, shoving her against the wall and pressing the stirring paddle to her neck. Her eyes were a mix of rage and fear as she looked Clair over from head to toe as if checking for something specific.

“What are you doing?!” she growled with a ferocity Clair hadn't thought possible of the sour woman. “Who told you to spy on me!?”

“I- I'm sorry,” Clair gasped behind the paddle. The liquid was starting to drip and leave tiny pin holes in her cloak. “I... I just couldn't sleep... heard you in here... just wanted to see...”

Charlotte brought her face so close to Clair's their noses were almost touching. She stared into the girl's eyes before loosening her grip on the paddle, lowering it as the back of Clair's heels returned to the floor. “...Can't be too careful,” she muttered, “never know who's watching.”

“Um, yeah,” Clair tried to agree, not really understanding. “I'm very sorry to have disturbed you. I'll just... go back out.”

“Wait,” the older woman interjected and Clair froze in place. “I'm... sorry, I shouldn't have overreacted like that.”

“No no,” Clair awkwardly tried to deflect, “you have to keep your magics a secret.”

That got a bit of a chuckle out of Charlotte. “You don't have any experience brewing potions, do you?” she asked.

Clair shook her head.

“It's a wonder you learned how to make such an enchanted bag without learning something so basic, but come here,” she beckoned Clair to join her around the pot, “I'll show you a couple things before you're able to get back to sleep.” The woman gently guided Clair over to the edge of the pot. “Keep your hands free; this potion will eat them up at the moment,” she warned and Clair's hands quickly shot behind her. “That bag you got, what's it soaked in?”

“...Soaked in?” Clair repeated, confused what she was talking about.

“Well, I didn't see a gem or other power source, but such a powerful spell can't have been powered by a simple material and still be going for a whole day. I could feel the space compression from inside it. So, what's it made of?”

“I... I read a bit about material components, but not really that much; I just used the rune.”

“...What's a rune?” Now it was Charlotte's turn to have a confused expression as she stopped stirring to look at Clair.

“Um, you know, magic? I stitched it into the old bags we had and powered it. It should go for at least a couple weeks,” Clair tried to explain, stumbling over her thoughts as she had never had to speak in technicality about magic before.

“I... see...” Charlotte slowly remarked in a way that conveyed the opposite, returning back to her stirring. “Then as payment for healing your friend's leg, I want the bag.”

“Wait, the whole bag?” Clair asked, surprised by the request.

“I mean the magic behind it; show me later in the morning after you've had your rest. You're clearly carrying something valuable so I'm not asking for it as is.”

Clair felt a sudden twinge of guilt that she hadn't just agreed outright, as if her questioning implied where her values lay. “Of course... Whatever you want. Honestly, we owe you our lives.”

“Just the magic method, I don't need a blasted life debt,” the old woman grumbled, drawing a small relieved chuckle out of Clair. “...you must have had a bizarre teacher, not going over the basics of potions with you. See here; this is a saltwater base with an alabaster sprinkling to interact with a two-toned salts. I'm stirring with this oak paddle attuned to the east to help the flow. I added ground ginger leaves and some lye to balance the north and south poles properly and compound their effects, along with-” she suddenly stopped. “...None of this means anything to you, does it?” she asked Clair as the girl stared blankly.

Clair stiffened, called out. “I, um, it... I'm sorry, miss Charlotte, I don't know what you're talking about,” she grimaced, feeling a small humiliation.

“I see... well, it's too late in the night to be going over fundamentals. Take this and go lay back down. The potion should be ready by noon and you can sleep until then,” Charlotte told her, handing her a cup of the same liquid as earlier.

“I... thank you,” Clair politely responded, feeling inadequate after her failure to continue the conversation. She tipped the cup back, emptied it, and handed it back to Charlotte before returning to the now silent main room, laying back down on the table as Measles slept on, undisturbed.

§

“Clair... Clair, wake up,” Measles shook her gently some hours later.

Clair slowly sat up. Looking out the window she could time the sun was nearly over top of them, no direct rays coming through the windows. “Measles? What time is it? Oh, is Charlotte done?! Mumps!?” she called out, her head quickly clearing and filling with optimism.

“No no, not quite. He's awake but resting. Charlotte said we need this table to treat him.”

“Oh, I see. Of course!” Clair nodded, hopping down and heading to the bedroom. She looked in to see Mumps, Charlotte hovering over him, inspecting the wound one more time.

“It's infected, heavily, though still early enough that it hasn't spread. Fortunately I anticipated that,” she spoke aloud, unclear if it was to herself or Clair. “Now, I'm going to need your help with this one, okay? My patients don't normally move like he will,” she chuckled, clearly talking to Clair this time as she lifted Mumps up. Clair stepped aside and let Charlotte carry him to the table, laying him down, all the while hovering over Charlotte's shoulder.

“...Miss Clair...” he croaked, giving a feeble smile. “The... five of you... saved me from the lion...”

“Mumps!? You're going to be okay. What are you talking about though?” Clair piped up, switching from side to side behind Charlotte.

The older woman growled in annoyance and whirled around, grabbing Clair by the shoulders and keeping her still. “Listen, Clair, he's delirious. He lost a lot of blood, he is heavily infected, and he is at death's door. Now, go grab the one on the end,” she ordered, pushing Clair to walk around the table. She pulled up a thick leather strap that was tucked underneath, then a second, the two in line with his shoulders and waist.

Clair stiffened before nodding, running around the table and passing over the other ends as instructed. She watched, biting her lip, as Charlotte tighten them over his body, securing him to the table.

“This is going to be extremely painful and I don't want him thrashing around. You, Measles, hold his foot down with all your weight. Clair, his shoulders; this table was made for bigger creatures so he can still wiggle out.” She ordered them around as if this was an everyday thing for her, yet her voice still carried a sense of urgency that pushed the girls faster. They lined up at their respective ends, grabbing Mumps as directed. He looked around, visibly confused but not putting up a fuss, eyes fluttering open and closed. Charlotte grabbed a wooden spoon and shoved the handle along his mouth, hooking it forcefully behind his teeth. “Have him bite onto this, Clair; this remedy won't work on tongues,” she said as she stepped away and into her work room.

Clair nodded grimly, understanding the meaning. She softly ran her fingers through Mump's hair, calming him as he started to shake his head at the sudden intrusion. “Shh... Mumps... you're going to be ok... just hang on...” she whispered to him softly, sharing a look to Measles and seeing her squeamish expression. “...you used to do this when I was sick... just rest... relax... you're be right by morning...” she softly repeated into his ears, running fingers through his hair as he calmed down.

“Alright, hold him steady.” Charlotte reappeared with a clay mug, the liquid inside steaming and letting off a slight visible gas that spilt over the edge, tipped ever so slightly that it didn't touch the experienced brewer. The first vapours poured down, rolling over Mumps' leg, and he stiffened, eyes widening as he let out a gagged grunt into the spoon. Clair tightened her grip along with Measles, holding him steady, pressing him down against the hard table with their weights.

The first of the liquid poured out of the spout of the cup, landing on Mumps' leg. It bubbled and sizzled, eating its way deeper. Clair turned away, unable to bear looking as he started thrashing, screaming and swinging his head back and forth. Clair leaned down over him more, pinning her lower arm across his upper chest while her other hand swung to her hold his jaw and the spoon, keeping both in place. She was forced to stare him in the face as he yelled out, not realizing that twice as many tears were running down the sides of his face.

Then just as quickly as it had started, it was over. His expression cleared and he relaxed. He blinked up at her, confused and not all there, but the tension in him was gone. Clair slowly looked up to see Charlotte wiping the sweat from her brow, cup set aside. His leg was better, looking whole and clean, the only traces of blood being on the cut open pant leg that had been cleanly split and laid underneath. She could see Measles, still clutching her brother's foot tightly and dearly. Tears ran down her face as she quickly tried to wipe with her shoulders, refusing to let go. Clair tentatively loosened her grip and felt her own face, realizing it mirrored Measles'.

“Well, he likely just experienced the worst ten seconds of his entire life, including whatever did that to him,” Charlotte sighed, deflating slightly as she visibly relaxed.

Clair couldn't help but smile. He's okay, he's going to be okay, she told herself as she looked at his relaxed face. She laughed, softly, looking up to see the other girl opposite her doing the same, letting the pent-up stress come out. Measles hugged his foot, the image a bit ridiculous but understandable, not that it didn't stop her from laughing a bit harder with relief, Measles quickly joining in. Clair even noticed Charlotte's face pulling a grin. Looking back down, Mumps' eyes fluttered again, quickly closing, and Clair started to panic.

“It's okay, it's okay,” Charlotte quickly spoke up to seeing her face twisting in worry. “That much healing will take it out of a person's body. He'll likely be out for the next couple of hours; fortunately, I had him eat and drink something right before,” she told the two, setting their frazzled nerves at ease. Measles took a seat on the opposite side of Charlotte, silently watching over her brother, as Charlotte placed a hand on Clair's shoulder.

“Now that that is all fixed up, let's talk magic. I want you to tell me everything.”