The cold still reigned over the village, but there was a subtle sense of relief in the air.
My sister was beginning to respond well to the treatment. The heat of the fever had lessened, her sleep grew calmer, and a faint flush was returning to her previously pale cheeks.
My mother, though hopeful, remained vigilant. Winter was not known for its mercy.
— Ravik asked if you could stop by today, Torren — she said early that morning. — He's prepared a new infusion to strengthen her recovery.
I nodded. I was grateful to have something to do beyond simply watching.
The snow no longer fell as often, but white still ruled the ground. My footsteps crunched softly, muffled by the frozen layer beneath. The one-winged rooster continued its comical patrol of the healers' yard, as if guarding its peculiar kingdom.
As I approached, the door was already slightly open. Warm air, laced with the familiar scent of herbs, spilled out.
Ravik greeted me with his usual calm smile.
— You arrived just in time. I've prepared something a bit stronger this time, to help stabilize her fully.
Inside, the scene was both familiar and comforting: Marla sorting leaves at the table; Len rearranging flasks while softly muttering formulas; and Nira, quill in hand, ready to record every detail.
As Ravik gathered the new mixtures, my gaze wandered once more to the garden visible through the small side window. With more calm now, I allowed myself to notice details that had previously escaped me.
Some plants stood out — elongated leaves with a vibrant green, others with tiny yellow buds blooming even in the heart of winter.
Then, a familiar scent struck me unexpectedly.
Chamomile?
It wasn't exactly the same — the petals had a slightly different shape, and the aroma carried a faint sweetness — but the essence was unmistakable.
And with the scent came a flood of memories.
My mother, in the other world, always brewed teas like this on cold afternoons.The steam rising from the cup, her warm hands cupping the porcelain before handing it to me. My father would always say: "The body just needs a gentle nudge, son. The rest it does on its own."
For a moment, the weight of longing pressed gently on my chest. It wasn't painful, but a quiet melancholy — a brief visit from a time that would never return.
I drew a slow breath, dispelling the tightness in my throat.Now there was another sister. Another winter. Another world. And yet, the leaves seemed to speak the same language.
I chose to speak.
Approaching the counter where Ravik was finishing the mixture, I addressed him carefully.
— Master Ravik...
He looked up attentively.
— That plant... over there in the corner — I gestured subtly. — It reminded me of something my parents used to give me as a child, during cold seasons. It was good for easing the chest, if I remember right.
Ravik narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. He walked slowly to where I pointed, examining the plant with experienced fingers.
— Hmm… an interesting observation, boy.— This variety does indeed have gentle properties for the lungs. On its own, it would do little. But combined with the infusion, it may offer some added support on cold nights.
Nira, of course, was already scribbling detailed notes.
— I'll adjust the dosage — Ravik continued, carefully plucking a few leaves — and test the combination. It's good to have sharp eyes nearby, Torren. Often, our best lessons come from those who notice the small details.
Len, still shifting flasks in rhythm, muttered his habitual chant:
— Observation... comparison... blending... balance... three parts leaves, one part root, infusion time...
His steady murmuring filled the room like quiet background music.
Shortly after, Ravik handed me the updated package, now with the additional leaves.
— Follow the same instructions. And keep observing your sister. The body speaks.
— Yes, sir. Thank you very much.
As I headed for the door, Nira offered me a small smile.
— Your eyes see more than many adults around here, Torren.
I simply smiled back.It wasn't pride. It was responsibility.
Outside, the one-winged rooster continued its confident strut across the yard.The snow crunched under my feet as I walked home, feeling the cold bite at my exposed fingers.
I didn't bring my world with me.But some seeds from it still live here.