“You want me to teach you how to mix medicinal herbs?” Setsu had asked me with a voice so serious it felt it would pierce right through me.
It was the night of the new moon in the first month of Manakis. I wasn’t sure how to answer, but later, I was glad I hadn’t just gone along and given a reply right then.
I was still being punished. Should I really be allowed to make something that could save lives? Regardless, I really did want to learn what Mother would have eventually taught me about herbs. I wrestled with this contradiction for some time.
Setsu hadn’t contacted me since. I found myself wondering why he hadn’t said anything and felt a bit sad over it.
This led me to question what I really meant to him. Maybe it had all been a mistake when he said he loved me.
That thought brought a strange mixture of relief and frustration.
However, on the new moon of the second month of Manakis, I’d received a letter from him saying that he wouldn’t be able to see me for a while. That was when I realized something important.
What mattered most was to think carefully and find an answer I could believe in myself. Brooding over Setsu was wrong, as was blaming him. I shouldn’t be waiting for him, either.
So I kept thinking about it until I finally came to a conclusion. Quietly atoning was a worthy way to make amends, but helping others could also be a form of atonement.
I didn’t just want to learn. I wanted to learn a skill—how to prepare medicines—so I could help others. That was the realization I came to.
Maybe it took me too long to realize that, but I wrote to him before I could let my resolve waver again.
I’ll do my best, so please teach me how to prepare medicinal herbs.
After all the time I’d spent agonizing over my answer, that was all I wrote. I didn’t include any of my reasons.
I wondered if he’d be frustrated when he read it, but that wasn’t important. All that mattered was that this was something I could stand by with conviction.
The next day, I received a reply from Setsu.
He sent me so many things along with his letter, including a notebook detailing how to prepare the medicines, tools for making them, an encyclopedia of herbs, another for minerals, and a few other necessities. Basically, everything I needed to learn.
He also included detailed instructions in his letter on how to use each tool. As I read it, I wondered if he’d prepared this letter long before my reply even reached him.
“Hey, Kukka. What do you suppose this monster encyclopedia is for?” I asked.
Kukka seemed curious, peeking through the barrier to see for herself. “Some monsters have parts that may be used as ingredients for medicine.”
I’d seen my mother make medicines many times, but never anything using monster parts.
“What kind of monsters can be used for that?” I asked.
“Well, there’s one called a ‘corvasal,’” she said.
I repeated the name quietly to myself as I flipped through the encyclopedia. “It says its scales are used to make ointments that help with burns and cuts.”
The corvasal in the drawing looked huge. Its whole body was covered with scales, so I figured it must provide a lot of materials. Once I’d finished going through everything, I checked the letter again.
It listed the items Setsu had sent and outlined a schedule for my future studies.
Yet there wasn’t a single word in there that suggested how Setsu saw me as a mate. Until now, he’d always included some sort of expression of affection toward me.
Of course.
I thought maybe Setsu wanted a bond like the one he had with Alto—a bond between a teacher and student. And if that’s what he wished for, I would respect it. It would be easier for me that way as well.
Teacher,
Thank you for all the study materials. I have already memorized the names and uses of the tools. Kukka is showing me samples of the herbs, which I am comparing to the encyclopedia. I will study as hard as I can so I can help someone someday.
Thank you,
Tuuli
After I finished writing, I read over the letter carefully and slipped it into an envelope. It was quite late, so I decided to send it the following morning, then curled up in my blanket.