Even with the letter on its way, Niala was not about to wait and hope.

  There was something else she could try, something that would find her bound to a gilded cage in the service of the rich and powerful if it ever were to fall upon the wrong ear.

  Something she suspected she was the only one on this continent capable of.

  Being both a compound alchemist and a weaver, she could change the nature of the ingredients. She could weave into existence potions that were not physically possible to brew.

  She had only attempted to do so a few times, always afraid of revealing herself to the world, and most of her attempts had ended in failure.

  But not all.

  And she was going to keep trying until she made something that could save David.

  She asked Karline to watch over David, to ensure he drank his potions at the right time, prone as he was to play loose and fast with her prescriptions.

  She then locked herself in her brewing room, arranging before her the ingredients she'd need to create the greatest healing potion the world would ever see.

  And then, she started brewing with magic.

  The day came and went, and the failures chained. Undaunted, she kept trying. She was certain there was a way, a method to arcane alchemy, and she would find it, tame it, and make it her own.

  She also took breaks; she found the time to cook David's favourites, and spent some time with him, chatting about whatever and anything.

  But seeing him in bed, coughing his lungs up, his condition worsening, dying; she couldn't bear it for long. With a heavy heart, she returned to her brewing room, diving back into the process of experimentation.

  There was a way.

  There has to be a way.

  Eyes sunken, deep circles under them, with hundreds of failed potions crowding every surface around her, Niala worked on her latest attempt.

  She had entire books full of scrawled notes, diagrams, and theories. She was creating an entirely new type of alchemy and had advanced it to incredible heights in a matter of days.

  But she didn't need, or want, to become a world-renowned scholar who'd founded an entire new branch of progress.

  She only needed one potion.

  Under her tired and piercing gaze, she combined the contents of two flasks over a small flame. She had imbued everything: The ingredients, the flasks, even the burner's flames.

  One tiny story for each, as she'd found big stories didn't take hold for long. A few words and thoughts, however? Those would be remembered.

  And she was certain this was it. A true universal cure. Able to rejuvenate a body to what it should be, devoid of diseases, parasites, wounds, or even curses.

  She'd even termed a brand-new grade of quality for this: Gods-grade. Something that transcended the realm of mortals.

  The fluids combined and clashed, but the story of union in the flask restrained them.

  The flask heated up unevenly, but the story of uniformity in the flames rectified this.

  The compounds attempted to cancel each other, but the story of co-existence in the ingredients bound them.

  The liquid flashed, the result of singular tales all becoming a single fable.

  Like the many attempts before, it was rejected by the world, its rules like claws attempting to rip the potion into separate prose.

  But the story of freedom she had injected into her hands shielded it.

  And finally, three days later, an impossible potion was brewed. It settled, and sparkled, and slept.

  Niala released her breath. Her eyes regained vigor, and a singular smile took root on her face.

  She stood up, stumbling for a few steps from the vertigo, and steadily marched to the door, unwilling to entertain the thought of running and tripping.

  To the stairs, and up them. Across the living room, into their bedroom. It was early morning, and she woke David up. He attempted to greet her but managed a wheezing cough instead.

  He looked at the potion in her hand, then at her sorry state, and tried a smile of his own.

  She put a knee on the bed and, with one hand, helped him sit up in bed, waiting for his cough to calm down, before giving him the potion to drink.

  As the liquid touched his lips, it shone a silvery white. The light traced the potion's descent into David's throat, into his stomach, where it pooled and radiated out along his veins and to every part of his body.

  Every scar he had, every poorly-healed fracture, every bruise on his organs, every minor defect he had accumulated over the years, gone.

  The light faded. David looked at himself, bent his arms and legs, craned his neck, then looked at her.

  “I feel like a baby.” He said, smiling, without coughing.

  A tear ran down Niala's cheek, followed by another, and soon more.

  She threw herself at his neck, squeezing herself into him, as he pulled his arms around her and embraced her.

  They remained like this for half a bell.

  Then he coughed again.

  She hadn't gone back to her room. Even if she'd had the energy to do so, she didn't know what to do.

  Instead, she remained with David, cuddled against him. His breath came easier, and he didn't cough nearly as much, but the infection had only been pushed back, not beaten.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Unbidden, she remembered Cassandra's words; no matter what, the fungus inside the lungs came back.

  They shouldn't have come back. Her potion had been perfect; no foreign body should have remained.

  David tenderly caressed the hair of his amazing girlfriend, who had pushed herself to the brink of exhaustion to save him.

  He was humbled, awed, and utterly devastated. But he forced himself to smile and offered her his arms.

  She needed him the most right now, and he would provide, for as long as he could, even if that would turn out to be much shorter than he'd thought.

  It was weird. He didn't want to die; he didn't really think he was going to die. Despite being told otherwise, even with all their efforts coming to naught, he still had faith in her.

  She wasn't very tall, nor very stout. She was a bit flabby and out of shape.

  But he saw in her a strength that surpassed anything he'd ever witnessed. She cared. She cared so much that she felt the pain others were in, so much that it hurt her to lie. No wonder she couldn't withstand the nobility and merchants. Every one of those balls and meetings her father had her attend must have felt like torture to her.

  And he wanted to protect her so, so much.

  And he would, as soon as she'd found a way to heal him.

  Because she would. Without a single doubt, in his heart, he knew she would.

  Because she cared, and because she was the strongest little woman in the world.

  Karline burst into their bedroom, flipped around, and walked out.

  “Sorry. Are you decent?” She asked from the other side of the wall.

  David and Niala, entangled together, shared a look and smiled.

  “It's fine. What is it-” Cough “-Karline?” David said.

  The courier woman stepped back in, holding up a small parcel.

  “Niala rec-”

  The catkin woman jumped out of the bed and snatched the package from Karline's hands before she finished her second word.

  She put it on the bed and used her claws to rip apart the string holding it together. Unfurling the heavy waxed paper wrapping, she found inside two letters, one labelled 'First', and several small vials individually rolled in cotton cloth, each filled with various ingredients.

  She took the first letter, breaking the waxed seal bearing the All Brew family brand, and read.

  ***

  Daughter,

  It will not be said that I, Cornelius the All Brew, would ignore someone in dire need, least of all his daughter, far away she might be.

  I had the research team investigate the disease you described, and we did find similar ones in various encyclopedias and manuscripts that originated from the more remote regions.

  The disease is known, and so is its cure. There is a complication, however.

  ***

  Niala's hands crisped the paper. She kept reading.

  ***

  This particular ailment is known under various other names, but most commonly as the Delver's rot. It is as you described: a parasitic fungus that suborns a person's system to spread itself far and wide.

  It comes from a specific family of mushrooms that naturally occur within areas of high mana concentration and poor lighting, which are often ruins of some kind, hence the name.

  The complication stems from the mushroom's ability to merge its mana signature with that of its host, rendering most forms of healing highly ineffective. How could a healing potion discern between the patient's and the mushroom's mana if both are entwined?

  Because of this, the cure requires a sample of the original mushroom colony that has infected the victim, to acquire its unique mana signature, and to tailor a potion targeting said signature.

  The potion itself is a poison. Its brewing process is exacting, requiring excellent binding of its components, lest its effect spreads to healthy tissue upon consumption.

  I have sent along ample supplies for you to brew said potion, and I am entirely confident you have the skills necessary to do so successfully. You have trained under the All Brew, after all!

  However, it falls upon you and your means to recover a sample of the original mushroom. In this, I cannot help you, but I wish you the best of luck.

  Niala, please stay safe.

  P.S. Once you are done with your current crisis, please read the second letter.

  Your father, Cornelius the All Brew.

  ***

  She looked up from the letter, her face a mix of hope and concern.

  Wordlessly, she handed it to David for him to read, while giving Karline a summary of it, leaving out the bits where it said she was the All Brew's daughter.

  With everyone apprised, Niala spoke up, looking at David.

  She opened her nightstand's drawer and retrieved a notebook and pen, pushing them at David, who grabbed at them awkwardly “I'll need to know where you went and stepped on mushrooms. Draw me a map, with landmarks.”

  “I'm going to need to brew some potions. Karline, keep taking care of David.”

  She began walking out of the room.

  “Niala- wait!” David said, coughing.

  She stopped and looked back.

  “What are you- hrrrm – planning?”

  Her tail swished, her ears pointed up, her face expressionless. “I'm going to go get a mushroom sample and then I'll cure you.”

  “You can't go-” Cough “You can't go alone! At least take Karline with you, or go hire adventurers to escort-” Cough “-escort you! Pits! Ask Caleb for some guards!” He said, leaning forward, hands gripping the duvet.

  Niala stared at him, the tip of her tail twitching. She turned to Karline.

  “Can you wait outside, please?”

  The woman looked between David and Niala, before nodding and stepping out, closing the door behind her.

  Niala padded over to David, crawling onto the bed and curling up in his arms as they lay back against the headboard.

  They shared the silence for a bit.

  “I need to go alone,” Niala said softly.

  “No, you don't.” He replied.

  “I do. If I don't, I can't use my ability.”

  “Karline knows my secret; she can know yours.”

  She positioned herself in front of him, looking into his eyes.

  “Love, your secret passes you as some deserter or reject. My secret gets people forcefully recruited by the Royal family as strategic assets. I can't risk it.” She explained, eyes soft.

  “And I don't want to risk you.” He replied, an edge to his voice.

  She smiled and lay her head against his chest.

  “It's your turn at being a hypocrite.” She sweetly chastised him.

  “...”

  “I didn't like sending you out to get that stupid flower for that stupid potion either, but I trusted you, and you came back.” She chuckled. “A bit damaged, but still good.”

  He scoffed.

  COUGH

  “You need to stay safe. And you need to-” Cough “-to avoid the Fel at all costs. You can't outrun it, and you can't fight it.”

  “David, I'm going to prepare.” She pushes back with her arms, looking at his face once more, gaze locked to his.

  “Nothing will stop me from getting you back and healthy. Nothing.”

  He smiled and put his forehead against hers.

  “I know.”

  A short nap within David's arms later, Niala was back in her brewing room. She said she'd prepare, and she would.

  She began by concocting a few high-grade versions of boosting potions for herself. With that done, she went and retrieved a second, smaller personal formula book, the one that kept the potions that weren't exactly beneficial to one's health.

  Sometimes, to protect people, you had to be able to hurt the things that threatened them.

  So she brewed those terrible potions; poisons, exploding, acids, mind-affecting, entrapping, and others.

  She thought she should be feeling a bit of revulsion at the various blights arrayed before her.

  But in her mind, there was only determination.