I return home alone for a change. Instead of getting right to work on a potion or balm that can cure something like the Scarlet Rash, usually a rather trivial brew, I drop on the bench out back first.

In the morning the place is in the shade, which is good. Strong sunlight, just like hot water, can make the rash worse after all. It's nice and quiet too, and the garden together with the creek beyond it, make for a pleasant breeze.

I take a deep breath and try to order my thoughts. This isn't exactly an entirely unexpected situation after all. Sure, my memories of the first time I got to suffer through the Scarlet Rash as a little child are pretty much non existent, but I got to make the experience again after going to the academy, thanks to one of our teachers having a daughter soon after I arrived there.

In a way I got off easy so far, thanks to my shielded upbringing. Most young elves or half elves growing up in human society have to deal with the Rash way more regularly. Well, never mind. Those idle thoughts will not get me anywhere now. The necessary steps ahead are what I need to focus on instead.

Should I just make myself a brew to cure it? I could. It would be almost trivial. It would cost me though. Not much, but still. I could just suffer through the Rash for a few days after all. And little Ulryk has to suffer through it anyway, to build his own resistance to it and while he has and is living under the same roof as me a potion is really not an option for me. I let out a sigh at the realization.

Alright, since I don't want to throw the boy and his mother out of our shared home, this means I get to suffer instead. Oh joy! Now, to refocus on the important things.

No hot water. No direct sunlight. Oh! And no scratching, no matter how bad the rash itches. That wouldn't make the rash worse, but it doesn't make it any better either and can result in scarring. That isn't exactly desirable either.

Good, that means there are two things I should prepare. A potion, or rather a few, since any good brew will result in enough product to fill a few bottles, to actually curse the disease, just in case. And almost more important, an ointment that cools the rash and eases the itch.

"Alright, that's a plan."

I clap my hands, as I mumble to myself, and get up. I shouldn't waste anymore time. I need to get this done before either the fever or the rash get much worse. Without any further delay I head inside to browse through my ingredients. Good gods and goddesses, I hope I have everything I'll need in stock. I doubt I'll have time to either order something or place a request for it.

I find the first ingredient I'll need after some searching. Deep red, dried King's Candle blossoms. Of the other ingredient I'll need there is nothing to be seen of course. I roll my eyes. No surprise. I'm not in the habit of keeping fresh onions in stock.

It's a good thing that Elzbieta returns before I can fret any more or head out to get the onions myself. She carries Ulryk like always, but she looks a little worried.

I hold up a finger before she can say anything, move through the door to the shop out front and get a few bronze Crowns from the strong chest.

"Could you get me some fresh onions? About a handful?"

She grimaces a little.

"Oh."

I just laugh out loud in response. She knows the recipe. She got to enjoy it once before after all.

"Oh indeed. Now hurry, please. I need to get this done before either the fever knocks me out or the rash drives me crazy."

Thankfully she doesn't question me and is off right away. Little Ulryk doesn't seem to mind either.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

I remember something else as I stand there by the counter though. I need to make sure my ledger is up to date. Have I entered my birch syrup purchase into it already? I'm not quite sure. Well, checking and adding it in the worst case won't take too long.

A moment later, with one worry off my mind, I get some water and firewood to get the former boiling, while I start crushing the King's Candle blossoms in the mortar. I fill the crushed petals into a silk bag right away too. They are essentially ready to go into the water once it's hot enough.

I don't even notice Elzbieta until she places a cloth bundle besides me on the workbench.

"Fresh onions. A handful. Like you wanted."

Her little boy is still blissfully unaware of what probably lies ahead of him in the next few days and watches on, as I start cutting up the onions. Well, right until his eyes start tearing up.

I blow him and Elzbieta a kiss.

"Go and get some fresh air you two. I'll call you once I finish up with the onions."

I don't need to tell Elzbieta twice. She quickly slips back outside and before long, Ulryk who has begun to tear up a little quiets back down as well. It's curious how Sour Cream, who is napping on the window sill, barely even twitches with her whiskers despite the intense, eye watering smell of the onions.

I finish up with the onions quickly and dump them into the hot water. A moment later the silk bag with the crushed blossoms follows too. It doesn't take long for a hearty onion soup like smell to replace the original eye watering stench. I better air out the place good and long afterwards anyway. Just in case. In fact, I get started on that right away, while the brew is bubbling, by opening some of the shops' windows out front, but not the door.

I think I'll keep the store closed for today. Or should I not? I join Elzbieta and Ulryk in the garden. The boy is sitting in the grass, under the watchful eyes of his mother, marveling at a butterfly right now.

"Say, Elzbieta, do you think you could mind the shop for me? Today and maybe the next few days, just in the case that the Rash hits me real hard?"

She blinks in surprise at first, then she nods.

"Unless a horde of adventurers knocks down your door all of a sudden I should be able to manage. Sell stuff. Collect the coin. Add each sale into the ledger. That's it, right? Shouldn't be too hard. At least while my boy is still well enough. I'm nor sure about the next few days though. If he gets the Rash real bad too I'll have to focus my attention on him instead."

That sounds sensible enough. I nod in agreement and head back inside to finish my first brew, by crushing some sugar and a little cinnamon, which I all add to the brew too. As I do I call out to my housemate over my shoulder.

"Just open the shop whenever you feel ready."

In the meantime I already focus on other things. I prepare potion bottles and fresh stoppers as well as some wax. And all the while I occasionally stir the brew. Finally I take it off the fire, let it cool a little and divide it up among the prepared potion bottles. By the time I seal the stoppers with wax I'm getting a little dizzy. Is it the fever? Or is it because I'm working next to the fireplace? Never mind. Once the last seal is in place I focus on the potion bottle to activate my appraisal skill, which takes considerably more effort than usual. Definitely the fever then. At least the results my skill provides match the expected result.

[Lesser Recovery Potion, Quality: Uncommon, A healing potion that will cure minor diseases, like colds. The potion will restore the user's stamina as well, making for a speedy recovery. Still good to use for another 28 days.]

Instead of tagging the bottles and moving them to the shop out front, where Elzbieta is opening up, I just leave them where they are. I have to finish one more little project after all. A soothing balm for the rash.

Fresh water goes into the big cauldron. Hauling it up from the creek is taxing me to the limit. Then I sink a second, smaller cauldron into it. Several ingredients go into it one after the other. The first is the water rat fat I have thanks to the efforts of Sour Cream and Elzbieta. I don't need it as an active ingredient, it's just the only fat I have at hand right now. I add a little of my recently purchased rice oil too for the same reason.

The important ingredients I add only after stirring the slowly melting fat and the oil until they have combined into nice and creamy mixture. Some crushed read tea leaves and the very last virgin milk I still have left. I keep stirring until the creamy substance has taken a rosy color. Satisfied I pour it into an ointment jar which I then promptly seal as well.

Only once I'm done do I realize that my hands are shaking. This is about as far as stubborn thickheadedness will get me. I don't even have enough energy left to properly label my newest products. Instead I change into my nightdress again and crawl back into bed and put a hand against my forehead. Good gods and goddesses, if even I can feel the fever without any trouble, than it really has to be bad. I better get some more rest.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.