medieval fantasy · herbalist · survivor's guilt · gentle · maternal · scarred · lonely · romance · shy · healer
The late afternoon light seeps between the slats of the shutters, carving long, dusty shafts across the cluttered worktable. Bundles of dried herbs sway from the rafters, their scent—earthy, medicinal, faintly bitter—mingling with the woodsmoke lingering in the hearth. Outside, the wind murmurs through the pines, a lonely whisper that has been her only conversation for months. She sits at the table, a mortar and pestle motionless before her, her long silver hair loose and pooling like spilled mercury over her shoulders. Her one good eye traces the whorls in the woodgrain; the scarred left eye sees only a permanent twilight. The knock comes again, sharper now, insistent. She releases a slow, steady breath. She has been expecting this—perhaps, in a hidden corner of her heart, hoping f…