Fresh and Basil are still down together in the basement. Jubilee and Shamrock have both gone back upstairs, Shamrock having taken the floating sheep up with him.

Fresh looks at the little sprouts popping out of the dirt in one of Basil’s planters. Five of the six of them seem to be growing well. The last one however, doesn’t seem to be showing any signs of progress just yet. “They’re so cute, Basil!” says Fresh excitedly, as she lowers her face down to peer at the little sprouts which almost seem to be reaching and stretching themselves outward, as they rise towards the large crystal that is suspended above them.

“Thank you,” says Basil. “They’re growing really fast. Actually, this is the second batch.”

“Huh?” asks Fresh. “What do you mean? Aren’t these the first ones?”

Basil shakes her head, pulling a basket out of the corner that is filled with an assortment of small, plucked herbs. “I think the magic of the crystal makes them grow really fast,” explains Basil. “It only took a few nights for the seeds to sprout and turn into juveniles.”

“Oh… so they weren’t fully grown yet?” asks Fresh, taking one of the small, leafy herbs out of the basket.

“No, they’re still young. But these plants in particular are best harvested when they are smaller. That’s why I chose them,” explains Basil, plucking a leaf from the one in Fresh’s hand. She holds it up to her mouth. “Here, try it.” smiles the priestess and Fresh obliges, letting herself be fed. Chewing on the small leaf, she’s surprised at just how fragrant it is. It tastes very strongly like… green. Like forest. Like crisp water with a strong hint of floral grass to it. “They get bitter and less aromatic when they’re older.”

“Mm!” says Fresh, swallowing the leaf. “It’s really good!”

“Thank you,” says Basil, shaking the basket once to mix up the contents. “My plan now is to dry these out by the fire and then grind them into a few different blends and salves.”

“I’m really glad, Basil!” says Fresh giddily, happy to see how excited the priestess’ expression is. “Maybe if you get some wax, you can make some scented candles out of them?”

Basil thinks for a moment. “That’s a good idea. But I don’t know how to make a candle.”

“I don’t either, but it can’t be hard,” thinks Fresh. “Or maybe a flower garland? We could make a head-piece out of them and enchant it?” suggests the girl, tapping her chin.

“Uh… maybe just the salves and the tea’s for now,” replies Basil, somewhat uneasily.

“Huh? Oh,” says Fresh, looking at Basil’s expression. She relents. “Sure thing, Basil. Sorry, I wasn’t trying to steal your project.” She frowns. “I’ll leave you to it,” says Fresh, going back to her table and tinkering awkwardly around with a few crystals and some of the rubbery ingots. Somehow she keeps being troublesome today.

Not knowing what else to do, she sets to work, making a batch of the flying sheep. They were also troublesome however. By the time she finishes making the twelfth one, all of the others that she had set on the table have already departed, all of them floating randomly around the basement in all directions. One particularly unlucky specimen even heads straight towards the roaring fireplace and is only caught at the last second by a particularly horrified Fresh.

Basil stands up on a small step-ladder that Fresh had quickly made for her. The priestess is busy scooting around the basement, hanging the herbs from her basket up onto the rafters to dry. In an odd flashback that Fresh can’t really explain, she can’t help but think about Donata the alchemist’s basement, as she stares at the dangling herbs for a time that she loses track of.

After breaking out of her trance, Fresh grabs her flock of sheep, bundling them all up in her arms and carries them upstairs with her to the storefront. They’re still closed today. Jubilee had said it wasn’t worth opening until the festival was over on the day after tomorrow. Judging by the occasional glances that Fresh had spared out of the window, that seemed to be true. Though she is planning on going to the festival again tonight. It’s worth seeing while it’s still here and in truth, she hopes that her friends will go with her so that they can spend more time together. She had a lot of fun the other night.

Fresh sets most of the sheep down onto the counter. She’ll sort them into the shelves later. For now, she takes three and heads upstairs with them. She assumes that Shamrock already has one, so she’ll put one of the others on each of the remaining beds. She doesn’t know if her friends have bad dreams, but there doesn’t seem to be a harm to offering them these. Reaching the top of the stairs, Fresh looks around.

Jubilee is sitting at the table, reading a book. Shamrock stands behind them in the kitchen and seems to be making something, which doesn’t quite smell like anything yet.

Sparing a quick glance over to his bed, she sees that the sheep that he had taken upstairs isn’t there, however. For a horrified moment, she for some reason thinks that he’s cooking it. But as her gaze shoots past the beds in worry, back towards the giant, she sees the sheep sitting on Basil’s bed, next to the head-rest.

Perhaps Shamrock had noticed her flailing as well, though, in truth, it was impossible not to notice. Unable to stop herself from smiling at this kind gesture, she sets one down on his bed as well, walking past Jubilee as she heads into their room. “I’m going into your room, Jubilee.”

“Why?”

“Sheep,” says Fresh, opening the door and throwing the floating creature inside and then closing it again a second later, as Jubilee watches her carefully. “What’re you reading?”

“Book,” says Jubilee plainly, turning back to the book in their hands.

Fresh scratches her cheek, shrugging and turning towards Shamrock. “Hey, Shamrock! What’re you making?” she asks curiously, leaning past his side as she looks at the mixture inside of the pot. A firm hand presses itself against her stomach and softly pushes her back and away.

“Secret,” is all that Shamrock says, nodding to her once before returning to his work.

Fresh sighs, waving the two of them off as she places a sheep down onto her own bed and heads towards the balcony, where she wouldn’t be in the way or cause trouble. Cautiously sliding the door open, she peeks outside just in time to see the eruption blasting through the air just down the street, as some very energetic spells collide with each other. The explosion shoots out in all directions in an instant. She quickly slides the door back shut, feeling the shockwave press against it from the other side, rattling the building for a second.

“How come nobody minds if fairies fly?” she asks, looking over towards the other two, continuing their somewhat grim conversation from this morning.

Jubilee looks up from their book, staring at her for a moment before looking back down to the page. “Because they can’t leave the mountain alive.”

“Huh?” asks Fresh.

“Fairies can’t leave the mountain,” repeats Jubilee, flipping a page. “They die if they get too far away from the magic that comes from it.”

“Oh no!” cries Fresh. “That’s really sad…”

“It is what it is. But that’s one of the reasons most of them end up getting pretty surly when they get older,” explains Jubilee. “If they get older,” they add on, correcting themselves.

“One of the reasons?”

Jubilee doesn't look up at her, but their eyes seem to drift away from the book for a moment. Shamrock looks up from his pot and stares over towards the two of them. He shakes his head, looking at Jubilee who nods in turn. Fresh doesn’t like how many unspoken agreements are being made today. She feels rather left out, honestly.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” says Jubilee, focusing back on their book. “Life is hard for everyone.”

Fresh opts to sigh loudly, so that her protest is audible, but she leaves it at that and the others do the same, apparently not impressed.

“Do you guys want to go to the fair tonight?” asks Fresh, trying to drum up some excitement.

“No,” says Jubilee straight away. “I’d rather get some sleep.”

Shamrock shakes his head too. “No,” is all that he says, staring straight ahead of himself, his eyes digging into the wall as if he were reliving a traumatic experience.

Fresh frowns. “I wanna do something though.”

“I’d offer you a book, but I don’t think you could sit through more than two pages,” says Jubilee, not looking up. “Go craft something, or go bother Basil.”

“I already did!” argues Fresh, flopping down onto the chair again.

“Dungeon?” asks Shamrock.

“Will you go with me?!” asks Fresh excitedly, jumping up from the chair before she can even finish drooping over it.

Shamrock looks back down and keeps stirring his pot. “No.”

Fresh flops back down again and lets her body fall limply onto the table as she lets out a loud, long groan. Today is just one of those days, apparently.