85th Zi'da, 716
The Communal Gardens
The Communal Gardens
Faith had come back to the Communal Gardens because Gregory Plains, the caretaker, had told her that he could get her copies of the two best books on medicinal herbs he knew about. She had been pleased to accept and to have returned here on the agreed trial. Indeed, she carried in her bag now the two books, but Gregory had suggested that she go and have a look at the gardens themselves, get herself used to the layout and see if she could identify some herbs and plants whilst she was there. That made sense so she had taken the two books, paid the coin and thanked the kindly caretaker.
Moving through the gardens, it was obvious to her that things were not growing, it was winter after all. But the Zuuda mark which she wore with pride meant that she was not peturbed by the cold at all. She was in a constant state of warm, which suited her fine because Faith didn't like to feel the cold. However, things were in a state of non-growth, having died back or been trimmed back and the place was twigs and branches.
As she made her way through, Faith spotted a plant which was growing despite it's neighbours' insistence that it shouldn't. In proud defiance it was there and she opened up the book Gregory had told her was best for identification. After a few moments, she found what she was looking for and nodded. Winter savory was the name of this and, when she lifted some to her nose, she recognised the smell of it. It was something they used for mild problems of the stomach. A sting from a bee or wasp, or any kind of sting, really, would be soothed by rubbing these leaves on to the skin directly. It would have been planted about 70 trials previously, according to the book and was best grown in containers as it tended to spread when left untended. That made sense and she smiled, pleased to have learnt something, but then a strange sensation caused her to stop what she was doing.
As she tasted mint in her mouth, Faith looked up. The soul kneeling opposite her was that of a man, maybe early twenties. He was thin, beyond thin to the point of emaciated and his cheeks were sunken in and hollow. The ghostly apparition had cuts and abrasions all over him and his clothes were ragged. He was looking at her intently and the taste of mint in her mouth increased. She prayed to Famula that she might help this soul, if it was the Immortal's will.
"Hello," she spoke in her usual calm and quiet tone.
His response was incredulous, but his scarred face showed hope. "You see me?"
"Yes, by Famula's blessing. I am Faith," she smiled a slight smile and looked back down at the plant.
"Winter savory. It grows where I am."
"What do you mean, where you are?"
"Where I am."
"Were you this cryptic when you were alive?"
"Sometimes."
"Excellent. That is good news. If you want me to help you, I'll need to know more."
"Winter savory. It grows where I am. I should not be there."
Faith looked at the empty space where he had been a trill before and she sighed, a slight groan of frustration escaping her, "It appears not. Thank you for the opportunity to serve, I do so in your name," the last her quiet prayer to Famula, determining that this was a job she had to do. She stood, shaking the dust from her skirt and made her way back to where Gregory was. Maybe he'd have some ideas about the pale, thin young man. Faith considered briefly that, if this sort of thing was going to happen to her, she was really going to have to learn to draw.
Moving through the gardens, it was obvious to her that things were not growing, it was winter after all. But the Zuuda mark which she wore with pride meant that she was not peturbed by the cold at all. She was in a constant state of warm, which suited her fine because Faith didn't like to feel the cold. However, things were in a state of non-growth, having died back or been trimmed back and the place was twigs and branches.
As she made her way through, Faith spotted a plant which was growing despite it's neighbours' insistence that it shouldn't. In proud defiance it was there and she opened up the book Gregory had told her was best for identification. After a few moments, she found what she was looking for and nodded. Winter savory was the name of this and, when she lifted some to her nose, she recognised the smell of it. It was something they used for mild problems of the stomach. A sting from a bee or wasp, or any kind of sting, really, would be soothed by rubbing these leaves on to the skin directly. It would have been planted about 70 trials previously, according to the book and was best grown in containers as it tended to spread when left untended. That made sense and she smiled, pleased to have learnt something, but then a strange sensation caused her to stop what she was doing.
As she tasted mint in her mouth, Faith looked up. The soul kneeling opposite her was that of a man, maybe early twenties. He was thin, beyond thin to the point of emaciated and his cheeks were sunken in and hollow. The ghostly apparition had cuts and abrasions all over him and his clothes were ragged. He was looking at her intently and the taste of mint in her mouth increased. She prayed to Famula that she might help this soul, if it was the Immortal's will.
"Hello," she spoke in her usual calm and quiet tone.
His response was incredulous, but his scarred face showed hope. "You see me?"
"Yes, by Famula's blessing. I am Faith," she smiled a slight smile and looked back down at the plant.
"Winter savory. It grows where I am."
"What do you mean, where you are?"
"Where I am."
"Were you this cryptic when you were alive?"
"Sometimes."
"Excellent. That is good news. If you want me to help you, I'll need to know more."
"Winter savory. It grows where I am. I should not be there."
Faith looked at the empty space where he had been a trill before and she sighed, a slight groan of frustration escaping her, "It appears not. Thank you for the opportunity to serve, I do so in your name," the last her quiet prayer to Famula, determining that this was a job she had to do. She stood, shaking the dust from her skirt and made her way back to where Gregory was. Maybe he'd have some ideas about the pale, thin young man. Faith considered briefly that, if this sort of thing was going to happen to her, she was really going to have to learn to draw.
Off Topic
Deductions:
20gn for 2 x books
20gn for 2 x books