#also yes i am going to make you read miryn's plant talk

[iturbide]

Summer Storm

15,710/50,000 words

“Lost in thoughts, I see,” Dain mused, placing a cup of tea on the edge of his workbench.  “Usually you’re already brewing a new batch of something by this hour.”

“I’m hoping I might find answers in here, somewhere,” he sighed, pushing the journal away and picking up the steaming mug.

“Judging by your tone, I take it you haven’t found them yet,” she chuckled.  Miryn made a vague sound, leaning back in his chair and sipping at the honey-sweetened tea.  “What questions are you trying to answer?”

“Is there a plant can cause the symptoms reported by the caravan waylaid by the people in masks?  Hemlock could explain the breathing troubles but nothing else, yew can’t explain the breathing troubles, foxglove doesn’t explain the numbness, and pennyrile is at odds with the erratic heartrates.  It can’t be nightshade because there are no fevers, and it can’t be henbane because there’s no madness.  Nerium or deathhood might explain everything, but even Neville pointed out that these people seem too sick for just some smoke.  If the smoke is the cause, is that changing the expected effects?  Could it be any of those, and I simply don’t know because I only know the effects from ingestion or direct contact?”

Dain made a faint noise around the rim of her cup.  “You are thorough in your research.  Have you found anything that might be useful for a remedy in there?”

“That’s the other question,” he mumbled, propping his chin in one hand and swirling his tea with the other.  “It’s Sia’s report that puzzles me most.  I’m not surprised about the headache remedy, but the one for sore throat…I had expected that to at least alleviate some symptoms, the way the nausea tonic did.  But the fall fever remedy being the most effective…”

Her fingers drummed thoughtfully against the edge of his work bench.  “What sorts of infusions are they?”

“Well, there’s featherfew, willow bark, pentila--”

“I mean the magic,” she clarified.

He ruffled his hair sheepishly, grinning up at her fond smile.  “Oh.  W-well, you know the headache remedy…”

“A dark infusion,” she supplied, “so one of mine.”

“Sore throat is water,” he continued, “to soothe irritation and inflammation; nausea is wood, to help settle the upset stomach; and fall fever is wind, to clear the nose and break up chest congestion.” 

“Could the wind infusion have ben effective because it helped push out some of the smoke?” she asked.

“…maybe,” he mused.  “I wonder if it’s possible to reduce an infusion down to a solid form that can be burned like incense and keep its effects -- or maybe mixed into water again and boiled, to breathe in the vapor?” She shrugged apologetically.  “I couldn’t begin to guess: that would be Hollyhock’s area of expertise."