We found her in the sitting room, wrapped in her favorite shawl despite the warmth of the day. Her face brightened when she saw me, though the shadows under her eyes spoke of another difficult night.
"Junie," she said, her voice thin but warm.
I made the introductions, watching as she lit up, watching how closely Kora and Jask stood to one another. She met my eyes and winked, and took all of my control not to giggle like a little girl.
Kora excused herself to make us all some tea while we set up in the front parlor.
"This is your father's workshop?" Jask asked, gesturing toward the door at the back of the room.
"Yes," my mother answered. "Feel free to look around. Marv would be pleased to know someone appreciates his space."
While Jask wandered into the workshop, I knelt beside my mother's chair. "How are you feeling today? Honestly."
She sighed, the sound rattling in her chest. "About the same. The new tonic helps, but..." She trailed off, her gaze sliding to Vic, who stood respectfully a few paces away.
"Mom, Vic is a healer. A good one. He's traveled to more realms than most people even know exist."
Vic stepped forward. "I'd like to examine you, if that's all right. I might have some insights your previous healers lacked."
I saw the flicker of hope in her eyes before she suppressed it. "You're very kind, but I've seen many healers."
"I understand," Vic said gently. "But sometimes a fresh perspective can make all the difference. At the very least, I might be able to suggest adjustments to your current treatment."
After a moment's hesitation, she nodded. "Alright."
Vic opened his satchel and began his examination with meticulous care. He listened to her breathing, checked her pulse, examined her eyes and throat. He asked questions about when symptoms were worst, what triggers might exacerbate the condition, how the illness had progressed over time.
I watched his face carefully, looking for any reaction that might betray his thoughts, but his expression remained professionally neutral. The only sign of his concentration was a slight furrow between his brows.
"Have you ever coughed up any unusual substances?" he asked.
My mother glanced at me before responding. "A black fluid. Thick, like ink or oil."
"May I see some, if you have any samples?"
She hesitated, then nodded at me. "In my bedroom, the small cabinet by the window. There's a jar I keep for one of my local healers to examine my progress…or lack there of I suppose."
I retrieved it, a small glass container holding what looked like dark sludge. Vic took it carefully, holding it up to the light.
"Fascinating," he murmured, almost to himself.
From the workshop, I heard the sound of Jask moving things around, examining my father's tools and projects. The kettlewhistled in the kitchen, and soon Kora appeared with a tray of steaming cups.
"Tea's ready," she announced, setting the tray on the small table. "I found some honey in the pantry, I hope everyone likes windroot"
"Perfect," my mother said. "Thank you, love."
Vic continued his examination while we sipped our tea. Finally, he sat back and pulled out a journal, beginning to write. The scratching of his quill was the only sound for several minutes.
"What are you thinking?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity any longer.
He looked up, his expression thoughtful. "I've seen something similar to this before, but in a different context. The symptoms resemble a condition I encountered in miners who worked with certain types of void-touched crystals."
"But I've never worked with such things," my mother protested.
I noticed something shift in her expression as she said it. It was a flicker of her eyes away from mine, a slight tensing of her shoulders. She fidgeted with the edge of her shawl, pulling it tighter around herself despite the warmth in the room.
"Mom?" I leaned forward, studying her face. "Is everything okay?"
