Spread out across the writing desk were several bundles of herbs, roots, and powders meticulously unraveled from the parchment once containing them. Vena tapped her finger by each one in attempt to count them under her breath in the dim mid-morning light. She grumbled, then struck a match to light a candle fitted into an elaborate silver candlestick. Adjusting to the dark sky would take time, she knew, but it was frustrating nonetheless.

No sooner had the wick caught aflame when a knock at the door startled her into dropping the match. Vena gasped and slapped her palm down on it, the heat doing little against the calluses from years of gardening and concocting. With the threat against her dried plants quelled, she called for the guest to enter, minding her volume so as to not rouse Bram from his sleep.

But her attempt was fruitless when she yelped at the sight of Elise in the doorway, her black dress doing little to hide her gaunt figure and skeletal face. Vena clutched her chest and leaned her hip into the table.

“I am so sorry, that was incredibly rude of me,” she muttered.

A laugh echoed hollowly through Elise’s skull. “Believe me, I take no offense. In fact, I find the reactions rather amusing.” She stepped forward, her hands folded dignifiedly over her lap. “I came to ask if you’d prefer your breakfast here or in the dining hall?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, we should probably have it here.” Vena pointed to Bram in the bundle of blankets.

“No trouble at all. I’ll bring your meals when they’re ready.”

Elise had no sooner turned to the door when a one-girl stampede barreled down the spiral staircase. Giving no regard to her sleeping father—who grumbled about her high energy at such an early hour—Lillian charged across the room and clutched Elise by the sleeve.

“I wanted to meet you again!” Her eyes glowed brighter than the candlelight.

“Well, I didn’t realize I was in such demand.” Elise chuckled. “Is there something else you need, aside from breakfast?”

“I need to know—” Lillian pawed her way up the caretaker’s arm. “—I need to know if you’re a living, breathing skeleton.”

Elise leaned in close and began prying the girl’s fingers away before they created any wrinkles. “I am not living, and I do not breathe, but I assure you; I am indeed a skeleton. Now, if there is nothing further, I shall dismiss myself.”

“Yes, of course,” Vena said. “Lillian, leave her alone.”

“But I wanna go with her,” she whined.

The two women stared at one another, as much as one could with pitch black voids for eyes. Vena wanted to set Lillian free for awhile, but was too diffident to ask if it would be all right.

“So long as your mother approves,” Elise said. “But I’ll put you to work doing chores.”

“Yes, anything!” Lillian squealed.

Elise clacked her fingertips against her cheekbone in thought. “Anything, hm? Interesting. Well then, come with me and I’ll put you to work.”

“Yes, please take her away for awhile,” Bram grumbled from beneath the blanket.

Lillian bounced after the caretaker as they started away. “I have so many questions for you!”

“And I shall answer only one for every chore you complete to my standards.”

Vena balked when the door closed and strode over to stand beside her husband. “She might actually get Lillian to do more than two chores before getting bored.” Bram only grumbled a reply and she poked his lower back through the blanket. “Someone’s grumpy this morning.”

“—tired,” he mumbled.

Vena kissed her husband’s head lightly. At the same moment, another knock at the door caused Bram to curl up further and pull up the blanket. She chuckled, then stood next to the partition before telling the next guest to enter.

“Good morning,” Janus said calmly. “I do hope I’m not intruding.”

“No, not at all. We just had the, ah—skeleton lady here. Elise?”

“Ah, I thought I heard her voice. Well, I merely stopped by to see how you and your family fared throughout the night.”

“Well enough for our first night on holiday in a palace in another realm,” Vena said, grinning. “Thank you for checking on us. We’re just waiting for Elise to bring us breakfast.”

Janus nodded. “Excellent. Then, if you have no further need of me…”

“Oh, I do, actually!” Vena stepped aside and pointed to the desk. “You said you had instruments I could use to concoct Bram’s medicine?”

“I do, indeed. Do you need immediate access, or would you prefer to wait until after breakfast?”

“After is fine, thank you.”

Vena watched with a smile as Janus dismissed himself, never taking her eyes off the door as she returned behind the partition. Perhaps Bram was right and her concerns about their host were quite misplaced.

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

Irwin blinked and placed a finger on the last word he’d read to keep his place in his book. Were there so many knocks downstairs that he was now hearing them from his door on the second floor, or was it real?

A rhythmic knock followed the first, startling Irwin until he recognized the pattern—the very same which Ellie would always do to his bedroom door while in a good mood. He greeted his sister with a smile as she crept into the room, smirking.

“You’re being sneaky.” He chortled.

“I didn’t wanna rouse everyone, since I’m just here for a minute.”

The door slammed behind her. Ellie spun on her heel and threw her arms down with a light stomp, cursing the timing of her unfortunate trend. After replying to her mother’s ‘good morning, Ellie’ from downstairs, she stood by the writing desk where her brother was seated and tapped her fingers aggressively on its surface.

“Lillian ran after the caretaker, I think,” he said. “Then I heard Mum talking to Janus. And you know me; I’m just here. Reading.”

“No doubt whether we’re related, huh?” Ellie pointed to the book. “What are you reading?”

“It’s a history book. I found it in the bottom desk drawer.” Irwin’s eyes lit up as he held the book aloft. “I think it’s an old, old edition of the ones they distribute at the academy. But you know what’s really interesting? There’s chapters in here that aren’t in ours!”

Ellie’s brow furrowed, then she took the book and began scanning the open pages. “Really? So ours are abridged?”

“Not abridged. That would mean we had a condensed version, but ours just don’t have some of this information at all.” He took the book back and opened it to an earlier chapter. “Look! This entire section is about a necromancer that terrorized the countryside of Phiana almost two hundred years ago. But then one day, their lair just vanished from the earth like someone scooped the whole thing out of the ground with a monumental shovel only the Triad could hold. No one knows where the necromancer went, but they never returned.”

“Maybe they fled to another nation?” Ellie guessed. “Took the whole lair with them. I mean, I can’t imagine the Order of the Triad would stand for such unholy practice, and right in their own yard.”

“That could be. But even this book doesn’t quite cover everything.” Irwin rubbed his chin and leaned back in his chair. “I wonder if there’s another edition closer to the event that has more detail? This one was from about sixty years after the fact. Doesn’t even name the necromancer.”

“Well, if anyone can sleuth it out, it’d be you,” Ellie said, laughing. “Maybe you should ask Janus if there’s an older edition somewhere in the castle? He’d probably know.”

Irwin let out a drawn out huff from his nose as he considered the thought. Then, with an abrupt shake of the head, he turned back to the desk. “No, no I couldn’t—I’m not gonna ask that. I don’t wanna inconvenience him with something so boring and pointless and, and—”

Ellie snorted. “What’re you all puffed up about?” She took a moment to analyze her brother’s reaction, then sneered at him. “Ahh. Someone has a crush.”

Irwin dropped his hands in his lap and slumped into his seat. “Don’t heckle me! It’s just admiration. He’s smart and knows magic; both things I wish I could say about myself.”

“You are smart, Irwin. And besides, Janus would probably appreciate it if you asked, since he’s an even bigger bookworm than me. I just like fiction, mostly.”

Irwin hid his face behind his hand and rested his elbow on the table as he flipped back to his place in the book. Then, he rolled his chin into his palm and looked toward Ellie, but not at her.

“Are you joining us for breakfast?”

“Not today. I’m not feeling that hungry and wanna see everyone in the castle.”

“All right.” Irwin rapped his fingers on his cheek. “Well, we’ll see you later today, then?”

Ellie nodded and narrowed her eyes as her brother turned back to his book in blatant avoidance. As she returned to the corridor—exercising additional caution with the door—she wondered if he wasn’t simply too shy to ask Janus about the history books. But it was no matter; all that meant was that she’d wait until they three were all together and give Irwin a push in the right direction.

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

The door to the alchemy lab opened with a brief squeak. In the gray light of early afternoon, Janus entered from the dark corridor and snapped his fingers to light the candles and sconces throughout the room. Vena emerged behind him, nearly dropping her apothecary satchel at the sight of the tables lined with pristine instruments capable of creating any salve or tonic she could think of.

“I know you said you were an alchemist, but this?” She dragged herself to the nearest table and stared at her reflection in a glass flask. “This is borderline insane, in the most flattering sense of the word. I was expecting maybe a crate of tools, not an entire laboratory.”

“Well, the castle doctor and I must create many things on a near-daily basis,” Janus replied, chuckling awkwardly. “Granted, I’m not as well versed as he is, despite having had generous time to hone my skill.”

He led her to the only table in the room devoid of instruments and offered the space to empty her satchel. As she did so, Janus scanned over the few plants and powders, noting the paltry quantity. None were unfamiliar to him, including the base form of the powder as declared by the label on the parchment.

“This was all you managed to bring?”

“Unfortunately.” Vena sighed. “I was in such a hurry that I didn’t grab my entire supply of each. But, it should be enough to make a fair few dosages for at least a little while.”

“It’s of no consequence. I have all of these and they’re rarely used in our usual concoctions, so you’re welcome to my supply.”

“You mean it? That would be incredible, thank you.”

Janus paced to the northern door and motioned Vena to peer into the room beyond, just as he’d done with Ellie not so long ago. “All plants are labeled appropriately and there are shears kept near each. This door is never locked, so please enter from here.”

Vena had only just stepped in the doorway before she immediately turned on her heel back into the lab. She then clapped her hand over her mouth and held back a laugh.

“All right, then. And here I thought my collection was impressive. Very humbling.” Vena returned to the small table and began sorting her ingredients with a grin. “So, what do you do here? You said the palace doctor also uses this place. I don’t suppose you know of a—a way to cure a weakened heart since birth, do you?”

Janus diverted his eyes to a well-worn instrument relegated to display in its retirement. “Regrettably, I do not.” He took a breath. “And I don’t suppose you, in turn, know the means to revert flesh from stone?”

Quietly, Vena searched her memory for every affliction she’d brewed a cure for. “I… do not. I’ve heard of such curses from adventurers, but to them it’s a death sentence. Magic can sense life within the stone, but with no known cure nor knowing whether or not the petrified is still conscious, most adventurers… put their comrades to rest the only other way they know how.”

Janus swallowed hard the knot that’d formed in his throat, but with every rapid repeat of Vena’s words in his mind, it grew into a gaping hole.

“Why do you ask? Has that happened to someone in this realm before?”

“Yes, but it was a long time ago. Do not trouble yourself with it.”

Vena observed in secret the grim lines that sagged the corners of Janus’s twitching mouth. Cursing silently, she scratched her face and forced a smile.

“But maybe another Shard has the cure.”

Light seemed to glow beneath the sickly gray that’d taken to Janus’s face.

“Do you truly think that’s possible?”

“Of course! Information is being shared between the Shards more frequently every year, including medicinal knowledge. Besides, anything is possible in this mysterious world we live in, as I’m currently learning firsthand.” She tapped one sheet of parchment on the table to remove any residual leaves. “I just wish those notes were public already, especially if they’ve got anything that can help my Bram.”

Vena withdrew two curious objects from a pocket within the satchel; a carved, stone pendant on a leather strap and a set of worn measuring spoons linked with a metal loop. The spoons were clearly for her work, but Janus tilted his head at the pendant so obviously that Vena couldn’t help but notice. She chuckled, then lifted the small carving in her hand to show him.

“A good luck charm, I suppose. I’ve always got it out while I’m concocting, ever since the very first potion I brewed.” She held it out for Janus to take, then retracted her hand. “Wait, will it hurt you?”

“Will it?” he stammered.

Carefully, Vena lifted the stone pendant back up and showed Janus the carving of three people standing each in their own arched doorway.

“It’s the Triad.” She pointed at them from left to right. “Diana, Volturnus, and Sancus.”

“Ah, yes, I recognize them now. A similar effigy to the one used in roadside shrines.”

“You mean you recognize them? Do you worship the Triad, too? I always thought holy things hurt vampires and that they were born from fire, ash, and sin from every hell.” Vena slapped her forehead and let out an exasperated sigh. “I am so sorry. I can’t seem to bite my tongue today.”

“Trust me, it’s more humorous than you think,” Janus said, snickering. “There are many misconceptions how holy items affect vampires, or where we originate from. As for the Triad; we worship them here as you do in the Prime Realm, albeit with slight differences. Saint Soleil is quite adamant that we keep faith in them.”

“Really? Color me shocked. I’d never have expected to find worshipers of the Triad in a place like this. Though back home, even Galviece isn’t the only country that worships them.” Vena rubbed the effigy with her thumb and smiled. “I always liked them, you know? You hear stories of wrathful gods worshiped by conquerors determined to convert every last person to their beliefs. But the Triad embrace virtues first. ‘Children of other gods who share our virtues are as beloved kin’, as the teachings say.”

“I must admit, I did not take you for a religious woman.”

“Well, you won’t find me attending weekly service, or even monthly. I worship them in my own way. Besides, it’s not as though we could go to any service other than the one at Year’s Dawn, what with Bram’s illness.”

Janus lifted the measuring spoons as Vena began cutting and dividing her ingredients. When he turned them over in his hand, his eyes met with the backside of the largest spoon’s handle and he paused. Janus stared for a long moment, his mouth opening and closing before he swallowed and turned his attention back to Vena.

“What can you tell me of Bram’s affliction?”

She tilted back to glance at the ceiling and delved far back into her memory.

“I mentioned he’s had it since birth, right? But he was strong enough to go to school, which is how we met. Some wretched classmates of ours were tormenting him, pulling out his little cane and pushing him into the mud. It’s almost so cruel you’d think it was made up. But seeing it once was enough, so I dashed over and beat up those boys until they ran home crying to their mums.” She and Janus shared a brief laugh at the mental image. “Bram and I were inseparable ever since. I often heckled adventurers at a roadside inn for stories, which I then ran home to tell Bram. Oh, the dreams we had from those amazing tales.”

“That’s quite the charming story,” Janus said.

“Oh, it doesn’t end there.” Vena leaned her hands against the edge of the table and stared out the window. “Bram’s parents eventually withdrew him from school after a few years, once he started getting weaker. Didn’t stop me from going to see him, which pissed off his mum, if you could believe it. Doesn’t make sense—getting mad that your son has a stalwart friend. But she hated that I told him those stories, saying it would excite him so much his heart would stop.”

“But you continued to share them?”

Vena scoffed and rolled her eyes. “The stories made him feel like life was worth living, knowing there was so much more out there. He wanted that life, but it made his mum furious. So, she gave him an ultimatum; her, who knew best, or me, who’d kill him.” She looked at Janus and raised her brow. “I don’t even need to tell you what he decided. When she screamed at him for answers as we left, Bram merely turned and said; ‘Life with Vena would be an adventure, even if it were short. With you, it’d be a prison.’ And with that, I took him home. My parents were uncertain, but when they saw how much we loved one another, they learned to love him, too.”

Her own words gave Vena pause. The similarities between her and her daughter became outstandingly apparent, especially in the very presence of the man who Ellie loved with all her heart. With this in mind, she smiled sincerely at Janus and swallowed her doubts—determined to discard the similarity between her and Bram’s mother.

“Bram had no more formal education, but we studied my materials together every night, so he still has the knowledge. As for me, I took up an apprenticeship with an apothecary as soon as I graduated, until I turned twenty. I wanted to find a cure for Bram’s illness so we could go on the adventures we always dreamed of.” A chuckle rumbled from Vena’s chest. “A little silly, isn’t it? Two adults now forty years old still dreaming of such things?”

Janus turned the spoons idly in his hand and kept his gaze on her. “Not in the slightest.”

“That’s kind of you to say.” She shuffled the ingredients into an alembic and ignited the burner. “I found a medicine to boost his strength when taken daily, but the effects weren’t permanent. Some days are fine, others have been terrifying. We wanted to have children, but I was afraid of the toll on his body more than mine. And yet, Bram insisted he’d be fine, so along came Ellie. Then Irwin, and Lillian, and he’s kept going thirteen years after that. But I’m not blind to how little his body takes to the medicine now than years ago. We’ve had some frightening nights, and nothing makes you realize just how much you love someone quite like seeing them in terrible pain.”

The brew bubbled in the alembic and Vena turned to see Janus admiring the measuring spoons.

“They don’t make them like that anymore,” she said, grinning.

“Ah, I apologize—I was listening, quite intently.” Janus dropped his hands to his sides, the spoons still clutched in one hand. “I am terribly sorry that your husband’s condition worsens with time, but you’ve achieved great things by extending his life as much as you have. If he had remained with his parents, then—”

“No, no need to apologize. You asked me about his condition and I gave you my life story.” Vena adjusted the heat beneath the alembic. “This one’s gonna take awhile, so don’t feel as though you gotta keep me company—I’m used to working alone. And our bedroom was just across from that big room with the skylight, so I won’t get lost on my way back.”

“Yes, of course.” Janus cleared his throat and shifted to one side while biting his lip. “Before I go, may I make an odd request?”

Vena tilted her head and raised her brow.

He held up the measuring spoons. “Is there a chance you’d be willing to part with these?”

“Those old things? Well, I won’t ask why, but they’re the most reliable I’ve ever had. If you have a pair of equal quality—”

“I do, absolutely.” Janus pointed to a small, wooden kit of tools a few tables down. “Any that you find that are a suitable replacement are yours to keep. And more, in exchange for these.”

“I’ll help myself, then.” She smiled. “Thank you.”

Janus dismissed himself with a nod, but watched briefly as Vena stepped away from her brew and browsed the tools offered to her in exchange for the old spoons. The door clicked shut behind him and he stepped into the light of the nearest sconce. A smile tugged at his lips as he ran his thumb over the worn, imprinted letters on the back of the largest spoon. Never again did he think he’d see a tool from the Prime Realm dated nearly twenty years before his birth and bearing the name ‘Alscher’.