[ truths told by instruments ] utopiosphere tryout

[Marsh]

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𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝
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two beautiful birds - passenger

imagination - shawn mendes

the last of us - gustavo santaolalla

breathe - pink floyd

blackbird - the beatles

beauty of dawn - malukah

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Just a few songs I thought fit her
story quite well - feel free to have
a listen while reading!
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𝚗𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗
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main post [ you are here ]


intro


chapter I


chapter II


chapter III


chapter IV


credits

[Marsh]

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𝙽𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚜 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚠𝚊𝚢
Female
Herbal Healer
Chocolatier and Sweet Treats Maker
Mother Goose

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Witch, old witch, how do you fly?
On a broomstick going by.
Witch, old witch, what do you wear?
Black old clothes and uncombed hair.
Witch, old witch, what do you eat?
Little green bugs and pickled pigs feet.
Witch, old witch, what do you drink?
Apple cidar vinegar and midnight ink.
Witch, old witch, do you live in a house?
I live in a haystack, with a little mouse.

[Marsh]

Sharp rays of sun forced themselves through the thin, beige material she had attempted to artfully drape over the small window in her shack. Since she had moved into the somewhat abandoned house, the curtains had been slightly eaten by various bugs and there were holes ranging from the size of a pin-prick to that of a penny which allowed different sized beams of light to form golden spots on the wooden floorboards.

Nerys smiled to herself as she paused to admire the pattern created by the light before she continued on with grinding down the herb in her pestle and mortar. Being a lover of nature, she always found beauty in the smallest miracles of the natural world. Some people struggled to view the world optimistically, but Nerys was not one of them; she loved her life and everyone in it. The more she ground the sage, the nicer it started to smell and it filled her shack with the most delicious scent. Simple things like this made life worth living for Nerys.

Since she had woken up this morning, she had been making one of her regular customers Elizabeth a tincture to help her sleep better at night. For as long as the middle-aged woman had been coming to her, Nerys had become close to Elizabeth - affectionately nicknaming her Liza - and knew her to struggle with difficulty breathing towards the end of the day, especially once in a lying position. Every week Nerys made her a phial of sage water intended for her to add a few drops of into her chamomile tea before bed. The medicinal properties of the sage would help to relieve Liza's suspected asthma while the chamomile tea would help to calm her after a stressful day. This was a recipe Nerys' late mother had passed down to her when she was younger and an apprentice in her mother's profession, one she took on once her mother passed away.

As soon as she had ground the sage into a paste, Nerys scraped the tiniest amount of sugar into the bowl to sweeten it and then added water to dilute the paste and allow her to pour it into one of the coloured bottles lining the shelves. As soon as one phial had been used, a new one was handed out and the old, empty one returned. This was the same for all of her customers so Nerys never ran out of bottles to use for her remedies.

When her mother had passed away, most of her old customers stayed on with Nerys and meant that despite her young age she could still make a living. Others decided to move on and find other healers for their ailments, but the ones that stayed were her most cherished customers.

While she hummed to herself, a small frog must have leapt onto her windowsill because when a feeble croak interrupted the birdsong she looked up from her work to the source of the noise. Scraping her chair across the floor as she stood up, Nerys approached the frog slowly so as not to startle it. The poor little guy, quite frankly, looked absolutely exhausted. Gently, she reached out and picked up the frog before settling him in her cupped hand. Sitting in direct sunlight was sure to do him no good. As she held him, he seemed to calm down and his croaks settled into a peaceful string of noise every so often. Nerys spent a while looking down at him as he blinked up at her and contemplating what he was thinking as he looked at her with his dark eyes.

Three familiar, rhythmic knocks on the door brought Nerys out of her thoughts and she moved over to the door to let in Liza. She was completely opposite to Nerys in some ways: Liza enjoyed to follow a strict schedule whereas Nerys simply worked whenever she felt like it - one of the perks of her occupation. As soon as the smaller woman had laid eyes on Nerys, she was pulled into a tight embrace which Nerys kindly reciprocated.

"My my, I swear you get more beautiful each week Nerys, dear!" Liza mumbled into their hug before she stepped back to take in Nerys' appearance. Nerys felt a warmth spread over her cheeks before she told Liza to come in, ignoring the kind compliment, but Liza didn't even seem to notice. Realising that she was still holding the little frog, Nerys hurriedly put him down on her counter in the shade and Liza chuckled at her antics.

"He looked tired!" she justified, splashing a bit of water over him to help him cool down, but Liza still found humour in it all.

Following this, Nerys brewed Elizabeth a cup of tea and laid out a few cakes on a plate that she had made yesterday. After healing people and helping others, baking and confectionery making had to be a close favourite. Liza gratefully accepted the tea and, widening her eyes, lunged for a cake to start to nibble on and pulled out a chair from the kitchen table to sit on. Nerys' kitchen tended to double up as both her workstation and living room since she only had three rooms in her small but snug home.

"Your cakes are honestly better than anything I could ever make - you must teach me someday!" Liza told Nerys, and then continued to gush about other sweet treats she had tried. Quite frankly, Nerys was happy for the company so she didn't mind Liza's endless stream of chatter, even if her compliments did make Nerys quite uncomfortable.

While Liza gossiped about the world and his wife, Nerys sat down again in her chair and set about decorating the phial of Liza's remedy. She started to give it a quick polish with a rag she had lying around on her table. This part of the process wasn't necessary but Nerys took great pride in the remedies she handed over to those that came for help, and this was something she tended to show in the presentation of her bottles. When she was convinced that the glass bottle had no fingerprints or smudges on it, she wiped the rim clean from pouring in the liquid and capped the bottle. Finally, she tied a ribbon around the thinner part of the neck into a bow and pushed it away from her a little - ready to start paying attention to Liza again.

"How are your children doing, Liza?" she inquired propping her head up with her arm, genuinely interested to hear about them.

"Oh Thomas is an absolute devil right now, he keeps pulling Ana's hair but I suppose he's at that age now - there's really no escaping the fights with my two little rascals. Ana might be younger than him, but she sure knows how to hold her own when he's trying to annoy her!" she replied, every syllable enthusiastic - it really did sum up her character very well.

Nerys smiled in reply. It had always been an ambition for Nerys to have children of her own, but she was single and her work made it very difficult for her to find time for a relationship. Instead, she liked to hear about other people's children and meet them when she had a spare moment.

"Anyway, I'd best be off - who knows what my little trouble makers will be up to by now! Thank you so much for the potion once again Ner!"

At this, Nerys got up from her chair again ready to see Liza out while in turn Liza dug around in her purse and pulled out a few coins, leaving them on the table as she stood up to make her departure. As per usual, Liza pulled Nerys into yet another tight hug and gave her a kiss on each cheek before she left.

Silence. And then a ribbit.



To her surprise, her little toad friend had decided to stay with her for the present moment and she found his gentle croaking periodically to be quite comforting. He continued to blink at her while she made her meal and she occasionally stuck her tongue out at him, which he seemed mildly affronted by but still continued his steady blinking and rhythmic croaking.

No sooner had she sat down for her meal when someone started to hammer at her door causing it to shake in its hinges. They seemed intent on breaking down the door and for a moment Nerys feared for her life. Cautiously, she made her way over to the door and sucked in a breath. On opening the door, Nerys was presented with a small group of people. Their eyes were wide, they were huddled together against the night air and they each, in turn, took ragged, shaky breaths indicating a frantic run to her shack. The servants seemed frenzied and they were constantly shifting from one foot to the other.

"Please..." one of them panted, "Come quick!" A second one grabbed her sleeve and started to tug her away from her home.

"Wait, wait!" she interjected, "You should probably tell me what's going on?"

"It's Marissa, we think she's dying!" the first one yelped and Nerys instantly felt herself pale, her eyes growing wide.

"I will be one moment," she told them, nodding her head affirmatively before rushing back into her house. Grabbing a satchel, she started throwing in various premade bottles of mixtures, spare herbs, bandages and honey in case she had been injured, a couple of rags and any other bits and bobs that came to hand. Nerys glanced over at the frog, taking a moment to nod at him before she ran out of the door again to rejoin the group.

"I'm ready."

In a matter of moments, they had all started running in the direction of the village chief's house, Nerys' bag smashing against her hip and making dramatic clinking noises with all of the bottles inside it. The small group and Nerys had all adopted an incredibly swift pace, and Nerys would be sure to be out of breath once she got there. While they travelled, all she could think was how much pressure would be on her with this patient. Marissa was the village chief's daughter, his pride and joy - failure was not an option here. As each step drew her closer to the house in the centre of the village - pretty far from her little hut on the outskirts - her nerves started to bubble up and several 'what if' scenarios were flying around her head.

The group all arrived at the house within ten minutes and someone was already waiting at the door to let them in. Nerys was ushered up the stairs and into a surprisingly modest bedroom considering the status of its inhabitant. Nerys took a couple of moments to try and compose herself, but when that failed she decided that she had no more time left to waste - it was time to focus. No. Mistakes.

Marissa was lying on her side in the bed shivering. Nerys' breath caught in her throat because despite how unwell the young woman looked, Nerys could recognise her beauty. Nerys had always admired Marissa from afar, but being this close gave her a feeling of butterflies and she found it hard to form words. Her blonde hair had lost it's usual bright sheen and her skin was pallid and flat-looking. The girl's breaths came in raggedly and infrequently, leading Nerys to suspect a swollen throat, but other than that there appeared to be no specific symptoms to anything she had ever seen before. She reached forward to place a hand against her forehead and sighed. The girl was indeed running a fever. All of these were too general and there was absolutely no conclusion she could come to - Nerys had no clue, and it scared her to death.

"Take this every half an hour, this one whenever you start to feel a headache come on, two spoons of this once a day, a couple of drops of this in a tea whenever you fancy one and replace the wet cloth when it starts to feel warm," she instructed, lining out the bottles on a desk and pointing at them in order of her instructions. Nerys also handed a servant a list she had scribbled down in her crude handwriting in case they forgot which bottle was intended for what.

Since having started her treatment earlier that night, Marissa had started to wake up and become more conscious but her speech was still sluggish and she needed Nerys' explanations to be given slowly so that she could process what was being said to her. Still, it was a massive improvement from when Nerys had first come in and they only way was up from this point. Most of what she had given them was to combat the symptoms of Marissa's mysterious illness, but nevertheless, Nerys was confident that her various syrups and remedies would do the trick. Part of her couldn't help but hope that this successful treatment would mean that she could finally find an excuse to talk to Marissa when she wasn't ill.

When the servants crowded around her and started to fuss over the steadily improving girl, Nerys took this as her cue to leave. Succesful cases like this always left her in a happier mood and on her way home she hummed little tunes to herself and occasionally whistled. Yes, it was dark, but in her current state, Nerys didn't seem to care an awful lot.

Closing her door behind her, Nerys was greeted by a friendly croak from the frog who had apparently still decided to stick around. She smiled at him and spent a moment considering what frogs generally ate before deciding that her new guest could quite happily feed himself on any flies that ventured in. It didn't take long for the time of night and day's work to catch up on her before she found herself yawning every few seconds and made the decision to call it a night.

She was woken up early next morning at a very untimely hour by a new wave of frantic knocking on the door. Frowning slightly, she climbed out of bed and groggily opened the door.

"T-there was a rash on her chest?" one of the servants from last night informed her, but phrased it like a question. If there was a rash, how could she have been so stupid as to have missed it?

"Nerys, she's dead."

[Marsh]

Nerys had spent the rest of that fateful day crying. No effort was made to try and stop because it would have been pointless, the tears just kept on coming. Something inside Nerys had broken.

The next day Nerys emerged to go and buy supplies from the market and the whispers seemed to follow wherever she went but ceased whenever she drew near enough to hear distinct words. They seemed to think she was too stupid to notice or just didn't care if she did, but that wasn't the worst part. On every path she walked on people seemed to pause what they were doing for the very purpose of judging her as they watched her go by.

She didn't blame them. Mistakes had been made and they had cost a life.

By the time she had reached the market going on in the village square, Nerys had made up her mind to go about her business silently and be out of there as soon as she could to escape the feeling of the conversations that stopped whenever she was within earshot.

Just as she was buying her vegetables for the week, she caught the eye of Liza her friend with a few other people probably gossiping about anything and everything. She smiled at her because she knew that Liza would be the one to see reason in this situation and ignore all the rumours being spread about her, surely Nerys could trust Liza to remain her friend no matter what?

But once again, her confidence in others was only to be proved wrong - whoever was up there certainly had something against Nerys. A finger belonging to Liza herself was raised and pointed in her direction followed by an obnoxious loud whisper. No attempt had been made to prevent her words being heard, they had been intended for Nerys to hear.

"That's the witch, the evil one who killed Marissa."

At this, her blood ran cold and she dropped the bag of vegetables she was holding. Liza had taken the knife of friendship and stabbed it in Nerys' gut, before twisting it and leaving her behind. At least, that's how it felt. The pain she felt at that very moment caused her to double over and grab on to the wooden counter of a stall for balance. How could they not know it had been a mistake? An error in judgement? An effect of the pressure put on a young woman to save a life? But most of all, how could those words have come out of the mouth of someone whom she had considered to be a friend?

Her heart simply couldn't handle the emotional pain and she began to feel faint. Hot tears welled in her eyes as she tried to steady her breathing, the whole time a mantra in her mind was going 'don't let them see'. The one person she thought she could trust the most had betrayed her at the first sign of trouble and now she had no one to back up her innocence. Soon, the entire village would know her as the evil witch that purposefully killed the village chief's daughter.

Perhaps she would've done it out of jealousy for everything Marissa had and she didn't? Maybe she would've been driven so mad by an impossible love for the girl to have secretly been poisoning her so that no one else could have her? It was no longer up to Nerys. Trying to clear her name would be futile. The penmanship over her own story was no longer in her hands; in the eyes of everyone else, she was now a witch.

A witch.



It had become rare for Nerys to leave the house. If she dared to venture out, wherever she walked conversations would stop in order for her to be stared at and, even if she ever made it to the market before she got too nervous, all her custom had stopped since the incident so she wouldn't have been able to buy anything even if she wanted to.

Clearly, Nerys had become the talk of the town. It didn't take long for all the wildly dramatised rumours to spread, for want of a better comparison, like wildfire. She was no longer Nerys the healer, but Nerys the wicked witch poisoning wells. Nerys the wicked witch kidnapping babies and converting them to dark magic. Nerys the wicked witch who lived in a shack with her frog familiar. Her cure had failed, and now the entire town was punishing her for it. There was no convincing them of what really happened because, like Nerys, they were all grieving the loss of a great spark within the community. Everyone needed someone to blame for the death of Marissa and who better than the healer who failed when she was most needed?

The silent treatment from everyone was agonising; she had absolutely no one to talk to, save for her frog. What they didn't realise was that she hated herself for her mistake even more than they hated her. Nerys was more similar to them than they seemed to think - they weren't the only ones mourning Marissa, they weren't the only ones hurting.

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Nerys was being driven mad by the clever emotional isolation that was her punishment for failing, the entire village had turned on her it seemed. All of her friends, people she had treated and acquaintances had all been so easily won over by the village chief's tale of blame that she began to question the integrity of those she had considered herself close to. It was funny how as soon as something went wrong, nobody chose to stick it out and defend an innocent from persecution.

Next thing she knew, they would be trying her for witchcraft, murder and burning her at the stake - it wasn't so unlikely.

Even so, Nerys couldn't find it in her to care anymore. She hadn't bathed in days. She only ate when her stomach noises began to distract her from her state of self-deprecation. She had taken to wearing the same, all black outfit. She hadn't shown emotion or cried since the day she found out. When someone dared knock at her door, she would hurl herself in its direction and curse at whoever chose to bother her. The rest of her time was spent sitting in her chair and contemplating what she should have done better. She just wasn't good enough when it came to it, and she would spend the rest of her life regretting that.

All the herbs that had once been so carefully picked and hung up were drying out on the walls. Nobody wanted her cures anymore so she, quite simply, had given up on the trade she had only a week previously dedicated her life to. A few of the colourful bottles had been shattered across the floor from a fit of rage, but the pieces remained on the floor in their exact positions and had even started to collect dust.

That night, all it took was two knocks at the door and Nerys felt her blood boil. Who else had come to mock her incompetence?

She pulled the door open forcefully so that it bounced back off the wall slightly and started her assault on the unlucky visitor.

"Leave me alone! Yes, yes I've heard it all. I don't need another person telling me I'm a witch who killed Marissa, I've had enough people telling me over and over again that I'm starting to believe it myself! No, I have not kidnapped your baby, poisoned your well, fed your mother belladonna or any of the above, so you can take yourself and your judgements away from my house!" she yelled at them, visibly seething at the interruption.

It was then that she noticed who the visitor actually was - the servant from the night Marissa died.

The memories she had pushed away to the back of her brain jumped back into her mind and she felt herself weaken at the knees. Clutching her doorframe to hold her up, she tried to assess whether or not she had scared him off and what he could possibly want here.

"I..I.." he started, his face white with fear at her outburst, but he seemed pretty determined to get out his words because he managed to continue, "I came to tell you th-that they plan to drive you out."

Nerys deliberated for a while, trying to work out his intentions. Was it possible that this was the only person on her side? If so, then surely it was not worth trying to scare him off? After all, if what he was saying was true, then when they came to force her out of her own home she should be thankful for the warning and the company of someone not trying to hurt her. Nerys had been emotionally exhausted by the events of that night, and trust was something that she now knew to give less freely. If she pushed him away, she would have no one.

"Then let them," she told him in an eerily calm voice, holding back tears. Then she closed the door on him and watched out the window as he turned and walked away from her house. Only when he had become a speck disappearing into the wooded trail leading to the village did Nerys let herself break down, crying for the first time in ages.

She had sent away the only one that cared.

"W-what... have I... become?" she sobbed to herself as she sank to the floor and curled up in a ball.



The next day, Nerys packed all of her dark coloured clothes - because colourful ones seemed too bright for an unhappy witch - as well as various odds and ends she wanted with her. In the end, she couldn't help but take her mother's journals with all her recipes, tools for making her potions and some spare bottles. Her remedies had been such a big part of her life that she couldn't part with them just yet, and she would need some way of making a living once she reached a new village.

When she had taken everything she could carry, she picked up her unnamed frog friend and placed him in a pouch she had made especially for him. At least he had stuck around with her.

And then she waited.

They came from the trail in the woods with torches and shouting that started before she could even see them. Lazily, she glanced out the window and watched as they made their way towards her, gradually increasing in size from pinpricks in the distance. Despite their nearing distance, Nerys sat still in her chair and watched their approach. Once they had reached a certain distance away, she could clearly hear their shouts and she couldn't help but chuckle at the unoriginality of it all.

"Witch! Leave our town!"

Nerys couldn't find it in her to move just yet, she was resigned to her fate. Instead, she stared at the figures coming closer and pretended that she was watching it happen to someone else. Part of her couldn't quite believe that she had dropped this far down the social chain because of a mistake, that people were coming in their droves to chase her out having decided that their silent treatment wasn't working. She was pretty stubborn and still had the remnants of a fighting spirit left, but she knew that it wouldn't be possible to hold out much longer. In spite of everything, though, Nerys still had a certain calmness about her.

When she could clearly see the facial expression of the person heading the gathering marching her way, the once familiar Liza, Nerys began to make her move.

First, she picked up her bag full to the brim with knick-knacks and clothes and stood up from her favourite chair. If Nerys was going to be forced out, she would do it with grace and on her own terms. She gave the entire room a quick once-over to make sure nothing valuable would be looted, before making her way to the door of her home for the last time.

Glancing down at her frog to prepare herself, Nerys opened her door. As soon as the crowd caught on to the movement and watched her step out the cries swelled to a maximum and became angrier. In response, Nerys simply closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. Then, with the few belongings she could carry, she turned and walked away in the other direction from the village.

Over time she just grew bitter, hating the people that had wronged her and living in yet another shack that she had built herself - but this time with no conveniences of sanitary plumbing. A bittersweet fresh start, except that it was only bitter and not sweet.

She began, even more, to fit into the mould of the stereotype that had been forced on her, turning away anyone that came to be friendly to her and becoming known as the hostile healer that turned up one day. People only came to her out of necessity, but still, it was an improvement to being called a witch.

Above everything, though, she missed the life she once had where she was respected and loved among her people.

[Marsh]

Birdsong, the smell of herbs and an early morning had become a regular routine for Nerys. On the days that it rained, Nerys would still venture out to feel the ground soften beneath her feet and to breathe in the fresh scent of wet pine needles.

Things had started to become relatively normal again for Nerys, her custom was picking up again and she was starting to have a little bit of expendable income each week, but she didn't keep close relations with her customers in the way she used to. Nowadays her business was run in a fashion that meant she got through her customers quickly. They came in, she prescribed them a cure and if it worked they came back the next week for a repeat. There were no conversations anymore, no getting to know the people in her village, no more baking treats for her visitors. Nerys had no friends and she didn't want them; she knew not to trust anyone because when it boiled down to it, no one would protect her but herself.

Slowly, working at a content pace, Nerys began to collect what herbs she could from the woodland near her new house. Foxglove, when used in small doses, could improve problems pertaining to the heart. In an incorrect dosage, it could cause death. She shuffled further on and found some mint - no specific medicinal properties but very useful in improving or hiding the taste of certain remedies. Suddenly, a very specific odour piqued Nerys' interest and she instantly picked up her pace in the direction of the scent. As she rounded the corner, she accidentally let out a small squeal of delight when she came across what she had been anticipating. Wild garlic. Nerys hadn't come across this plant for years but harvesting the various parts of it was so useful for pretty much anything - it was like the salt and pepper to herbal medicine. Boils, cramp, earache, infections and flu were only a short part of the long list of ailments it helped to relieve.

While she was making a mental note of where she came across the herb, a flash of colour caught her eye but when she turned to look at it there was nothing there. It was gone as quick as it came and Nerys became unsure of whether or not she was seeing things. Nevertheless, she chose to investigate, after all, there was no harm in checking it out. Most likely it was some kid from the village playing pranks on the grumpy lady living on her own, thinking it was funny to startle someone while working. Well, if they planned to jump out at her, she would be one step ahead of them and get there first.

She scanned her surroundings and eventually laid eyes on a tree. Gathering up her dark skirt, she snuck through the plants - taking care not to crush any - and made her way over to where it was most likely someone would hide.

At about two feet away from the hiding place, a small giggle gave away the location of the meddler and a brightly coloured kit stepped out from behind the gnarled roots stretching up higher than the ears of said kit. For a minute or so, Nerys seemed to lose any comprehensive thought as the kit shifted under her gaze, but not uncomfortably so. In fact, the kit didn't seem at all intimidated by her presence and instead locked eyes with Nerys, creating her own impression of the healer at the same time Nerys was coming up with one for her.

"Where are your parents?" Nerys found her voice again and asked the kit. Her intended harshness had softened and Nerys couldn't find it in her to belittle or intimidate the young kit.

Ignoring her question, the kit instead replied happily: "My name is Alya!"



So that's how, only an hour later, Nerys had ended up sitting at her table in her house with the kit. For a while, Alya had decided to follow her on her way home until Nerys eventually caved and invited her over. Any harsh exterior she had tried to put up had seemed to melt around this kit and she couldn't help but offer her tea while they talked.

Still slightly apprehensive, Nerys observed the kit's mannerisms as she talked away at Nerys and sipped on her own tea. She was still unsure of what to do with Alya, considering the fact she had mostly been followed home which proved an amount of persistence on the kit's part. For a kit of such a young age, Alya had developed a certain politeness around Nerys and her speech patterns were incredibly mature. It was almost as if there had been no one but herself to talk to for a long time with the amount she was saying and the speed at which her words were being delivered. She barely paused for breath and it became evident that by the end of the day, Nerys would know absolutely everything about the kit that was somewhat forcing herself into Nerys' life.

Perhaps it was some long-suppressed mothering instinct that caused Nerys to want to tolerate, if not look after this kit so much, but she would soon learn just how great her urge to care for another was.

It didn't take long for Nerys to start to enjoy the conversation Alya was having with her and the one-sided monologue soon became a discussion with equal effort from both parties. Something about this kit made Nerys want to know everything about her, her interest in Alya had most definitely been stirred, and Nerys found herself asking questions to find out more - sometimes even occasionally responding to the ones Alya posed about herself instead of changing the subject.

"So what would you say your favourite flower is, then?" Nerys asked Alya.

"Ohh now that's a tough one!" she considered, "I do really like those pink ones that grow on trees-"

"- You mean cherry blossom?" Nerys interrupted her, but instead of getting annoyed she simply nodded animatedly and continued talking.

"Yes! But I also like the ones that will grow blue if you plant metal with them-"

"Hydrangeas."

"- and the white ones that look like a bell, and bluebells, and wildflowers so you see it's very hard for me to choose just one!" she finished, sounding slightly horrified at the thought of having to narrow down her choices to only one favourite. And thus they continued.

Before long, night had fallen and it was too late for Nerys to allow the kit to return home alone - wherever that might be. It had been a pleasant surprise for Nerys to find herself getting carried away in a conversation for the first time in a long time, but now that was having slight repercussions in that she now had two choices: escort the kit home or allow her to stay the night. The other option was simply too dangerous and she would not allow it. She didn't have to deliberate long, because it appeared that Alya had been thinking the same thing when she heard the question which interrupted her minor internal debate.

"Please Miss Nerys, it's quite late and I was wondering if I could maybe stay the night? My parents won't worry," she asked politely, to which Nerys nodded hesitantly and the kit beamed at her. The smile offered to Nerys was enough to cause a foreign sweeping feeling in her chest. Was this what she had been missing out on by not having had children?

"Yes, of course you can, my dear! I'll set up a mattress for you on the floor," she found herself replying without a second thought, returning a wide smile before moving off to set about preparing a bed for Alya.

She folded a pile of blankets and piled them on top of each other to make a relatively comfortable base for the bed, then she pulled her spare laundry set out of the cupboard and placed them on her own bed until she was ready for them. As she worked on the temporary bed, she hummed a tune to herself and periodically tested it for comfort. When she was content that it was worthy enough for Alya to sleep on it, she called the kit over from the other side of the single-roomed house.

"I figured you might want to sleep in the same placed as me, not that there's much choice!" she told her, chuckling at the lack of space in her own house. This one was much smaller than her old home, just about big enough for a table, chair, cupboard, stove, bed and a small amount of walking space, but it was functional enough. Nerys never really seemed to mind the lack of space, so much as the temperature the stuffy room got up to in the summer months.

Quietly, she shuffled past the kit already in her makeshift bed on the floor and got into her own bed but just as she was about to fall asleep, she felt a pair of small arms wrap around her waist and an added weight on the bed next to her.

The next morning, Nerys woke up to find the kit had returned to her original place on the floor and she smiled at the memory of yesterday afternoon and evening.

Silently, so as not to wake up the gently snoozing Alya, Nerys climbed out of bed and made her way over to the rusting stove. Subconsciously humming, she started to cook up some pancakes for when Alya woke up. In a glass bowl, she mixed together the eggs, milk and flour into a smooth batter before taking hold of a ladle and spooning in enough batter for a pancake. One at a time, slowly and steadily.

As the first one began to cook, a friendly croak greeted her, making her aware of the presence of her still unnamed frog friend. Nerys' grin extended further across her face as she reached her arm out to the window sill and ran her fingertips along his back.

"What's his name?" a small voice came from behind Nerys, startling her and causing her to jump about three feet in the air.

"You musn't sneak up on me like that!" she scolded playfully, wagging a single finger at her before she continued, "He doesn't actually have a name yet - do you have any ideas?"

"Call him Bramble," she stated as she sat down at the table. Alya had clocked the ingredients spread out over the table and however hard she had tried to conceal her expression, a glint in her eyes gave it all away and it was evident to Nerys that she seemed pretty excited for whatever breakfast was being cooked for her. For most people, the parenting instinct came naturally and luckily Nerys was one of those people otherwise she wouldn't have even thought of making breakfast.

A sudden, repulsive burning smell began to fill her nostrils and she whirled around to find the pancake mix turning black against the pan and gently smoking. Seized by panic, she ferociously waved one hand above the burning pancake as she lifted the pan off the hob and dropped it into the sink, turning on the taps. Nerys couldn't have her shack burning down with someone else's kit inside of it, especially not if it was Alya whom she was growing quite attached to. Shaking her head thinking about what could've happened, she realised that she didn't know if she could deal with the pain of yet another death on her hands and yet another village - which she had only just settled into - turning their backs on her.

The kit struggled to conceal her disappointment but Nerys was quick to remind her: "I've still got plenty of batter left!" and Alya's face visibly brightened. She might have been a little bit rusty when it came to cooking, but that wasn't going to stop Nerys doing her best to make Alya happy.



"Could I maybe come back tomorrow?" Alya asked shyly, hovering in the doorway and it was apparent that she didn't want to leave just yet.

"Of course you can, dear, but you'd best be off now - your parents will be worried sick!"

Alya looked like she had wanted to say something, but instead, she let the widest smile Nerys had ever seen spread across her face as she turned to make her way home. Nerys just hoped she made it back safely.

Over the next week, Alya came by on the Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday with very clear plans that the next week she would be appearing much more often - not that Nerys was complaining. It had only taken a few hours for Nerys to become irrevocably attached to Alya and she soon found herself constantly fussing over and mothering the young kit, not allowing her to leave too late at night and checking up on her often. If Alya came in with even the smallest scratch, Nerys would notice it immediately and spring into a lecture about not playing in the brambles or whatever had been done to cause the miniature injury.

One day the pair got talking about Nerys' work, a previously avoided topic but since Alya had started to loiter around Nerys a lot more she had therefore been present for a lot of the visits Nerys got about cures for various ailments. Alya's interest in healing was evident from the start and she seemed very taken by anything Nerys did when it came to her work. It was incredibly nice, Nerys thought, to have someone appreciate your work for the art that it is.

"I wish I could save lives like you, Nerys!" she breathed in admiration once her first customer of the day left. Nerys chuckled at the exaggeration but decided to take it as a compliment instead of correcting Alya on the matter.

"That's very sweet of you, Alya, but it's a lot of hard work. There's so much to learn and it takes years to memorise it all..." she replied, trailing off towards the end as a thought occurred to her.

Alya was about the same age Nerys had been when she had started to learn how to concoct herbal remedies from her mother. Usually, recipes were passed down from mother to daughter and she herself had once been her mother's apprentice. As of now, Nerys had no children of her own but she loved Alya the same amount a parent would love their child, so who better than the kit Nerys had become incredibly attached to - in a way she never expected - to become her apprentice?

Later on that day, Nerys pulled out all of her mother's journals and Alya started her journey into healing as Nerys' apprentice.

As more time passed, she felt her fighting spirit start to noticeably come back - life had become even more worth living and Nerys felt as if she had found her purpose again. Nerys had been forced out of her three-year-long isolation by Alya and she realised how much she had been missing by avoiding close relations. Everyone in the village was surprisingly really nice and for the first time since the incident, Nerys became the talk of the town for a positive reason. People were shocked at how the once grumpy lady in the shack had gradually become more and more friendly, even venturing out sometimes simply for the purpose of chatting with other members of the village. For Nerys, the subject of most of her conversations was Alya who had since become her pride and joy, her young apprentice. Alya was skilled and improving quickly and Nerys was just happy to be able to pass on everything she knew to a keen youngster.

For the first time in years, Nerys baked again.

[Marsh]

The bell attached to the door jingled as a new customer walked into the shop. Nerys clapped her hands a couple of times and sent up clouds of flour, wiped the rest off on her apron and then turned around until she was standing behind the main counter ready to serve the young lad waiting patiently for her to finish.

"What can I get you today, Gideon?" she asked him as she smiled and leaned across the counter to give him a hug. Gideon had come last week for some chocolates for his girlfriend and they'd somehow ended up with Nerys offering relationship advice even though she was probably the worst person to ask. The last relationship Nerys had been in was when she was five, so she wasn't entirely sure that one counted too much considering it only lasted a couple of days. Still, she was very glad to see him come back again. Just like when she was much younger, she tried to keep pretty close relations with her customers - not only was it good for custom but she was genuinely interested in hearing about other people's lives.

"Ah, w-well you see I've g-g-got an important exam tomorrow a-and I was hoping for a b-box of th-those 'good luck' chocolates you sell?" he explained, stuttering slightly but Nerys was patient with him and let him get through his full sentence. Nerys scanned the shelves on her counter before she found what she wanted and pulled out a round, blue box with a gold ribbon both holding the lid down and decorating it.

"Here you go!" she said cheerily as she held out the package for him to take, "Anything else?"

"No I'm good, thanks," he answered taking the box from her. Once he had it in his grip, he opened the flap of his satchel and buried it somewhere deep within in between the piles of notes and slightly shredded paper which had been eaten by the kitten he owned with his partner. He then gave her a wide smile and hurried off out of the shop, but Nerys wasn't too offended that he hadn't stayed to chat as he would most likely be going over his books for his exam.

That was another thing about the chocolates that she made. While Alya had been reading through one of Nerys' mother's journals, she found a ragged piece of paper slipped into the page with the cure for measles. On the paper, in a very scrawled handwriting - which her mother had only used when she was in a rush - was a short rhyme titled "Only For Pure Intentions". It took Nerys a while to work out that the poem wasn't just a piece of writing but it was actually an incantation used to charm objects. The charm was designed to be chanted over an object and would then grant the user of whatever object that might be what they were hoping for. Now the chant wouldn't bring back a dead relative, make heaps of money appear or pierce a crush with cupid's arrow but it would, say, help a person with genuine intentions pass an exam they were nervous for.

It wasn't magic per say or even a minor spell, but Nerys was certain that whatever was going on it certainly worked. This side to her chocolates was, of course, kept secret from her customers, but it was nice to know that sometimes her sweet treats would do just a little bit more than taste nice.

When she was pouring chocolate into the moulds to make heart-shaped chocolates with a rose-creme filling, the bell chimed again and Alya sauntered in through the doorway - her hair slightly unkempt as if she had been in a rush.

"Sorry I'm late Nerys, I got caught up with something," she apologised, leaning in to give her a quick peck on the cheek before taking her coat off and replacing it with her apron.

"No problem at all, dear, you're just in time for the first batch of chocolates of the day!" she exclaimed, not at all concerned about Alya's tardiness. They had got to a point in their relationship where if Alya told her that she got caught up with something without any elaboration, then Nerys knew not to pry because she trusted that if it was important Alya would tell her and seek help - always.

Just as Alya had pulled out another tray of moulds and started to pour molten chocolate into them, the bell chimed again and in walked in a stranger wearing a cloak pulled down low over his face with movements reminiscent of a snake. He - or it could have been a woman, their clothes were so concealing that it could've even been a dog walking on its hind legs - almost seemed to slither into the shop and brought in with him a distinctively minty aroma. His boots were direly scuffed and caked in mud and the hand he had pushed the door open with was deathly pale. The only clue to any sort of identity was the gruff voice in which he spoke his next words.

"Jubilatum per diem, in tenebris silentio," he hissed in his deep voice, the words delivered slowly and in a very laboured manner.

Nerys and Alya gave each other a knowing, but slightly worried look.

People came far and wide for Nerys and Alya's cures for various reasons, so it wasn't any of their business to pry into the background of a customer - they would heal no matter what their circumstances were. Still, this man gave Nerys a weird tingling sensation down her spine. He wasn't exactly the strangest character who had ever come in and spoken the codeword for her secret cures, after all this background business for a little extra revenue on the side was quite shady - especially since the exchanges were made in the room at the back of the shop, but he certainly spiked Nerys' curiosity.

"Please follow us through to the back," Nerys replied, lifting up the counter while Alya pulled back the curtain to let their new customer through.



Only when he was inside the backroom did he pull his hood down and then the pair could see the full extent of his illness. He had large dark circles under his eyes and a sickly pallor to his face. The stranger staggered through the doorway and lowered himself onto a chair and it became obvious why he had been seeming to slither around; in order to walk it appeared to be necessary for him to grab onto handholds for balance. His left shin had a nasty gash across it and an infection had spread up to knee with signs of moving even further up. Alya gasped at the sight of it, as it had only been noticeable once he sat down, while Nerys tied up her hair - an occasion reserved for only the most serious cases - and managed to maintain her decorum as she asked him questions.

"How long ago did you recieve this gash on your leg?" she asked him as she prepared a disinfectant for the injury. Working quickly, Nerys poured a few drops of vinegar mixed with alcohol into a bowl of warm water and swilled it around as she approached with a dabbing cloth in one hand.

"About 5 days a- ow, agh!" he cried out in the middle of his reply at Nerys' first gentle dab against the wound.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I need to get this clean before I can dress it and make you a remedy - it will sting, though," she explained to him as she forced a comforting smile on her face but quite frankly Nerys was very worried. While Nerys had been preparing the bowl of diluted alcohol and vinegar, Alya had started to flick through the recipe books to search for a strong remedy that would cure the infection that was spreading.

Gingerly, she pressed the cloth against the gash and allowed some water to seep in before she carefully wiped a small section in one stroke and dipped the cloth in the water again. Nerys certainly didn't envy him, she couldn't imagine how much this would be stinging but the man simply bit his lip and persevered having been caught by surprise previously.

"Alya, would you mind cleaning this wound while I find the right one?" she asked, but it was more of an order. The more stressed Nerys got, the more succinct her speech became so Alya knew not to argue and to just let her work. Watch and listen, but stay out of the way and help when asked.

Nerys ran over to the thickest journal and furiously turned pages, skimming each one briefly before realising they weren't the ones she was looking for and moving on. Eventually, her eyes landed on a page with an annotation in capital letters reading 'strongest remedy - use with care and in small doses'. Quickly, she ran her finger down the page as she searched for the ingredients. Then, she snapped the book shut and left it on the marble counter below the shelves of herbs and books where it had been brought down to by Alya. It would remain in its place until they were done, Nerys was in too much of a hurry.

In the heat of the moment though, Nerys always seemed to find a calmness.

She pulled differents jars and pots of thyme, honey and olive oil from various parts of the shelves and ran over to the other side of the room where she had a workbench with all of her equipment on it. Glancing over briefly to check on Alya, she concluded that she had plenty to work on at the minute and instead started to grind up the thyme with her trusty pestle and mortar. Over the years, her efficiency had improved and it took her no time at all to grind it all down into an oil. Then, she mixed the thyme oil with equal parts of olive oil as the carrier. Nerys picked up a smaller jar for the man to take away with him and filled it with honey before finally stirring the oil into the honey. The leftover that didn't fit in the jar she brought over to be applied to the leg.

Thyme oil would help fight the infection whereas the honey would act as a barrier and help to seal the wound to prevent it from worsening. Nerys then reached past Alya to a cabinet and pulled out a few bandages from the supply, one of which she wrapped several times around the wound and tucked in the end.

The man - who visually appeared much less pale - began to thank the pair graciously and without taking breath it seemed, but it was obvious that all his energy had dissipated and the situation was starting to catch up on him.

"Reapply this ointment and re-dress the wound every eight hours, come back if there's no improvement," she ordered him firmly but still with a kind glint in her eye. The man handed over a few coins and then both Nerys and Alya helped him hobble back through the curtain and out of the main part of the shop where a small queue had formed, on the way, though, Nerys pressed a box of chocolates into his hands - both as a free gift to make him feel better and to avoid raising suspicions.

"Who's next?" she heard Alya ask. Nerys merely leaned against the counter and let out a huge sigh of relief.



Nerys sighed as she opened her door and hung her coat up on a carved wooden peg made by Alya after a long day's work. She allowed herself to collapse into a slightly threadbare red armchair and closed her eyes for a moment as she savoured the feeling of being able to relax. A successful day always left Nerys in a great mood, if not slightly exhausted. She loved her job and she loved Alya, but most of all she loved healing others, she thought as her eyes started to droop and she felt herself start to doze off.

Silence. And then a ribbit.

[Marsh]

Thank you very much for putting up with my walls of text, I had planned to order art to try and break it all up a bit more but when it came down to it I couldn't afford much, unfortunately. I hope that, nevertheless, you enjoyed my form and I can't wait to see who this kal goes to - I know for a fact they will end up in good hands!

Below are some websites linked which I used for research, they're definitely worth a read if you're interested in natural remedies or the treatment of women accused as witches during the years of the various witch trials. I've also got credits for all stock images, characters and art used.



Research pages: x x x x x x x

The title I chose for this entry - truths told by instruments - is a reference to a quote from Macbeth about the witches which I thought fit the theme quite well. The actual quote is "the instruments of darkness tell us truths".

Art piece by sentimental_android <3
Second Art piece by Marsh (me)
Alya belongs to January. - thank you so much for letting me use her as Nerys' apprentice
Special thanks to plantfood for going over my writing and finding mistakes <3

Pixel Image One Image Two Image Three Frog Image Four Image Five Image Six Image Seven Pixel



Liza and her children, Marissa, the servant, Gideon and the mysterious guy are not real kalons, just characters I invented to help tell you her story.

Last, but not least, thank you so much for persevering to the end of my form - a final good luck to everyone entering! c: