Mysterious Lady Selling Herbs

Collection "Quarter of Legends"​

How the Story Begins
In Russian
In Ukrainian

 

"For example, take that woman over there," Janus said after a thoughtful pause. "She's not exactly one of the Free Creatures—you know, not a demon—but that doesn't mean she's ordinary either."

He and his student had been milling around the square for a while, checking out the diverse crowd. Arthur observed the faces with detached curiosity while Janus seemed to be scoping out a local to introduce him to. And he did find one, though the mentor's choice threw his apprentice.

"Looks like a regular person to me," Arthur said, skeptical, glancing at the woman Janus had locked eyes with: an elderly vendor selling greens and strange herbs. "Just a sweet old lady!"

Janus chuckled and stopped near the woman. Arthur followed suit, albeit hesitantly.

"Wouldn't recommend saying that to her face!" Janus remarked with a wry smile. "Never call a woman old, even if she's pushing ninety."

"Okay, okay," Arthur mumbled, cheeks warming slightly. "So, what makes this… uh… nice lady so special?"

The "nice lady" definitely wasn't in her spring years anymore. With a rosy complexion and a pleasantly curvy body, she gave off a warm vibe. Arthur still couldn't wrap his head around why Master Janus had picked this madam out of everyone here, especially considering some of the more colorful characters milling about. The herbalist wasn't exactly your classic fairytale witch. She looked quite presentable, sporting a dark pink polka-dot dress that hugged her well-rounded figure. A matching scarf sat neatly on her silver hair, and a touch of cherry lipstick graced her lips, although it did highlight a few wrinkles. To Arthur, she was like any other senior citizen trying (and maybe failing) to hold onto her youth.

"Oh, she's got a wild past, this one," Janus said with a knowing smile. "Come on, let's introduce you."

Arthur shuffled after his mentor, not exactly thrilled. He'd pictured something more from the mysterious denizens of the Quarter of Legends; this wasn't a grand entrance.

"Maybe we should talk to that guy instead?" the young man muttered, casting a longing glance at the lively, rosy-cheeked merchant hawking shiny trinkets and touristy souvenirs—the one Janus had mentioned as a Free Creature. “He seems way more interesting."

"Debatable," the mage cheerfully countered, weaving through the crowd toward the herbalist. Besides, I don't actually know Mr. Demon. Madame Stephanie, on the other hand, is an old friend! And trust me, she's got some stories to tell."

They finally reached their stop—a weathered stall overflowing with bundles of fragrant herbs. A gaggle of young women hovered nearby, giggling and whispering amongst themselves.

"Damn, those girls are fine," Arthur mumbled under his breath, straightening up a bit. It wasn't like he was itching to impress them with his charm, but being surrounded by pretty faces was a reminder that he was a guy with everything that came with it. Unfortunately, the lovely customers couldn't care less about him. Janus, on the other hand, was a hit—the girls were all over the powerful sorcerer.

"Yep, you got that right," Janus chuckled. "Madame Stephanie's wares are especially popular with the ladies. And things used to get even crazier back in the day."

"Seriously?" the young man repeated, bewildered, shaking his head. He could barely believe it; even now, there were at least ten eager customers crowding the stall. It seemed like a lot for just some regular old lady selling herbs! Unless, of course, these herbs weren't so ordinary.

"You're on the right track," the magician responded, seemingly reading Arthur's mind. "They might not be drugs, but these herbs definitely pack a magical punch."

"Whoa, cool!" the guy blurted out, his excitement bubbling over. "So, what kind of magic can you do with these herbs?"

"Let's meet Madame Stephanie," Janus suggested, weaving through the crowd of chatty girls towards the vendor. "She'll promote her product herself."

"Janus, my boy!" Madame Stephanie's face lit up with a broad smile as she spotted him. "It's good to see you!"

Arthur couldn't stifle a chuckle at the greeting. His Mentor definitely wasn't a boy! But next to Madame Stephanie, he did look younger, for sure.

Janus shot the student a playful glare (who quickly scrubbed the smirk off his face) before turning back to the herbalist.

"Hey, Stephanie. Are you really happy to see me?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" The woman seemed genuinely surprised. "We go way back, my darling boy!"

"Yeah, a while back," Janus muttered in response, a cryptic smile playing on his lips.

"Brought a friend along, have we?" Stephanie winked playfully at Arthur, making him blush furiously. "Listen, kiddo, love life got you down? I've got remedies for pretty much any problem in that department... well, almost any."

Arthur's face burned even brighter. Kiddo? Seriously? This lady was getting on his nerves!

"I don't have any problems!" he blurted out defensively. Janus let out a hearty laugh, and Arthur shot him a glare before clarifying, "At least, not the love kind. And definitely don't need any love potions!"

"Love potions are small potatoes compared to what I whip up," the vendor chuckled. "How about, say, a special brew to help you... uh... last a bit longer in the bedroom?"

Arthur's confusion deepened. "Last?"

"Young guys, bless their hearts, can be a little too, well, enthusiastic in bed," the lady explained with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Things can get over pretty quick, you know? Not exactly ideal for their partners. But a few sips of my special concoction—problem solved!"

Janus snorted, barely holding back a laugh, which totally set Arthur off. His face turned the color of a fire truck, and he didn't know where to look. He hoped to God none of those flirty customers caught wind of the saleswoman's snarky comment.

"There's no problem here!" Arthur practically shouted, his cheeks burning. "Got it?"

"Loud and clear!" Stephanie giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "But if things change, my door's always open."

Furious, Arthur stormed to the side. He was fuming, especially at Janus, who obviously knew exactly what kind of woman Stephanie was. Was this some new form of torture? Had the old methods gotten boring?

"Remember what I said about a sense of humor?" Janus's voice came from behind as he trailed after his student. "Lighten up, or you'll never master magic!"

Arthur glared at him. Janus smirked, taking in his apprentice's flushed face.

"Look, I just don't dig those... implications!" Arthur snapped. "Your Stephanie, well, she way overstepped."

"She's not 'mine,'" the sorcerer corrected. "And what's the big deal anyway? Her stuff is top-notch! Maybe even a little too good sometimes..."

"Okay, so what's the deal with shopping here in this Legends Quarter?" Arthur asked, calming down a bit. Curiosity was starting to win over his annoyance. "Say I buy some herbs, how do I actually get them back to the real world?"

"Good question," Janus said, perking up. They were a few feet away from Stephanie's stall now, though Arthur would've preferred to be miles away from that crazy lady. But the magician wasn't in any hurry to leave; apparently, his chat with Madame Stephanie wasn't over yet. "Let me break it down for you. First off, for some folks, this Legends Quarter is their everyday life. I'll introduce you to some of these characters eventually. But even if you visit this place, like in a dream or something, it still counts."

"So, I wake up and find a pile of herbs on my nightstand? That sounds a little out there, even for magic," Arthur said skeptically, shaking his head.

"Fair enough," Janus agreed calmly. "Magic ain't like some fairy tale, you know that. You won't just wake up with your shopping next to you. Whatever you buy here will just show up on its own in a few days, even if you forget all about your dream by then, which happens a lot."

"Just show up?" Arthur repeated, furrowing his brow. "How does that work?"

"Use your head!" Janus said with a hint of exasperation. "Haven't you ever found something unexpected around the house before? Maybe a gift you don't remember getting? I can give you a million possible options!"

"Maybe, yeah, I guess," the young man mumbled, unsure. He honestly couldn't think of any specific examples. But he didn't want to argue with Janus right now.

Apparently, Janus could read his student's mind like a book. He shot Arthur a look that clearly said "here we go again," then shook his head in disappointment.

"Alright, alright," Janus conceded. "Let's say you're the odd man out and never had anything weird happen. But trust me, most folks aren't so unlucky, and strange things and even miracles do happen sometimes in their lives."

Arthur bit his lip, barely containing a sarcastic comment. But why bother holding back anyway? Janus wasn't exactly Mr. Respectful these days.

"You've told me a million times miracles aren't real," he argued. "You said they're just things regular people can't explain because they're clueless."

"And I still believe that!" The sorcerer remained unfazed. "That surprise find or random gift is hardly a miracle! More likely, someone in a place like the Legends Quarter—and there are more than you think—just paid someone like Madame Stephanie for it."

"Whoa, hold on!" Arthur blurted out, his curiosity piqued. "There are more places like this? Can we check them out?"

"Slow down, kiddo," Janus chuckled. "You haven't even scratched the surface of this one yet. There's a time and place for everything, you know?"

"Alright, alright, show me the ropes then," Arthur conceded with a sigh. "You introduced me to Stephanie... anything else cool around here?" His voice lacked excitement – that whole herb lady thing left a bad taste in his mouth. It wasn't a complete blank slate, but definitely not a positive impression.

"Hold your horses!" Janus smirked. "I haven't even told you what makes Stefania... special."

"Special?" The young man scoffed, glancing back at the vendor hawking her 'miracle product' to another poor soul. "She seems pretty ordinary to me." He muttered silently, adding, "Ordinary and rude!" under his breath.

"Well, ordinary now, that's true," the sorcerer agreed. "But I've known her a long time, and she used to be dangerous..."

"Dangerous?" Arthur snorted, shaking his head. In his eyes, Madame Stephanie was a harmless annoyance, someone who wouldn't hurt a fly except maybe its pride. "Yeah, right."

"Just hear me out!" The sorcerer chuckled. "This happened, like, 30, 40 years back..."

"When Madame Stephanie was all young and hot, huh?" The young man leaned in, hoping for some juicy backstory. Why not? Decades ago, Stefania must've been a total knockout, maybe even someone who could snag a dude like Janus.

"Nah, not young," the mage shot down his hopes. "But you're right about the other part – she was definitely a looker. Definitely."

"So, how old was she back then?" The guy's curiosity was piqued, his brow furrowed as he tried to do the math. She looked like she was pushing 60... maybe 65? Impossible to tell. "Like, 20, 25?" he ventured a guess.

"Honestly, no idea how old she was then or now. But trust me, she's way, way older than she appears. Stephanie's got her ways of staying young, just like me. Different tricks, though."

"Seems like your tricks work better," Arthur couldn't resist saying. "You definitely look younger than her."

Janus shot him a strange look.

"You know, sometimes you come out with stuff that's dead on, without even trying. I'll fill you in on everything, step by step. Just listen to my story and try to hold your questions till the end."

* * *

Like I said, my story happened a long time ago, and a whole lot of water's gone under the bridge since those distant days. Back then, the Legends Quarter was completely new to me, so everything was fascinating and grabbed my attention.

Strolling down the streets, I checked out all the local shops. Eventually, I ended up in a bustling market square filled with amazing trinkets. My jaw literally dropped at the sight of such abundance. I was seriously impressed and even bought a couple of little souvenirs. Then, bam! There she was—Stephanie.

Actually, at first, I saw a bunch of girls crowded around her stall. There must've been a dozen of them, each one looking younger and hotter than the next. Curious about what had them so interested, I edged closer. I figured maybe she was selling jewelry, fancy scarves, you know, the usual girly stuff. But nope, nothing like that! Instead of lady trinkets, her table was overflowing with herbs. They gave off this weird, kind of familiar smell that, for some reason, freaked me out a little. I tried to remember what it reminded me of, but it was a blank.

"Looking for anything specific?" I heard a smooth voice purr.

I glanced up and saw Stephanie leaning over the counter, a confident smile plastered on her face.

"Just browsing for now," I mumbled back.

Her smile didn't falter, still radiating way too much charm for my comfort. There was no denying she looked way better back then, probably mid-thirties to early forties. Youthful, definitely attractive, and, well, curvy. Unfortunately, I had no idea how much that "charm" cost.

"Maybe something to, you know, keep a man energized?" she winked, a glint in her eye. Yeah, asking suggestive, even provocative, questions like that was her whole schtick. Lived for the flustered reactions, if any. But I just shrugged, no need for any performance enhancers right now.

"Actually," I started, a frown creasing my forehead, "I'm here for some herbs. Different kinds..."

Something's been bugging me, and I was trying to put my finger on it.

I figured I'd do some digging myself and test out this mystery herbalist's wares. Of course, guzzling down those concoctions myself would be a dumb move—why risk it? Luckily, being a magician comes in handy—I can analyze the effects of a substance without needing to taste it. Don't roll your eyes at me, Arthur. I know scientists can do the same analysis, perfectly valid point. They're basically magic users in their own right, but that's a whole other conversation for more fitting times.

Anyway, I asked Stephanie for samples from each batch of herbs. My request raised an eyebrow, which set off some alarm bells in my head. That was a weird reaction, to say the least. Something fishy was definitely going on...

And yeah, I know it might seem obvious, but let's take this chronologically, alright?

"Why so many?" Stephanie asked, her smile plastered on a little too tight. "Some of these herbs, well, they're not exactly for men."

"I know plenty of women who would be interested in them," I assured her, a hint of sarcasm dripping from my voice. "Or are there special rules for buying this stuff?"

"Nope, nothing like that," she replied with a nonchalant shrug. "No weird restrictions, just pay up and it's yours."

"Don't worry, cash isn't an issue," I said with a grin. For a magician, money's no big deal. Now, hold your horses, Arthur! If you can't handle your finances, it just means you're a rookie magician—but hey, we all start somewhere, right? Anyway, back to the story.

Madame reluctantly forked over everything I requested, though she seemed real hesitant about a few of those herbs. If I hadn't been glued to her like a hawk, she definitely would've tried to stash a couple away. No way was I falling for that! Deception was clearly her game, and her lame attempts just made me even more suspicious. So yeah, I kept a close eye on her.

To get to the bottom of this, I decided to crash in the Legends Quarter for a while—basically, for the length of my investigation. You might be wondering why. Simple: time works differently in this mysterious reality. If I popped out into the regular world, there was a chance Stephanie wouldn't even be there when I got back to the Quarter. Not a risk I was willing to take.

So, what did I learn? Honestly, not a whole lot. But I did manage to piece together some stuff.

First off, the herbs weren't drugs—at least not in the traditional sense. They seemed more like ingredients for healing teas. People drink them for all sorts of things, from trouble sleeping or stress to headaches and, well, problems in the bedroom (hey, no shame, it happens to everyone after a certain age). There were even some beauty concoctions, like drinks to boost your metabolism or de-puff your face—weight loss stuff, basically. But then there were a few others that threw me for a loop. They had some weird, indirect effect, but I couldn't figure out what it did.

So, it was time to move on to the next stage of my investigation, detective-style. I headed back to the square and there she was, Stephanie, still holding court at her table surrounded by a gaggle of pretty girls.

"Oh, you again," Stephanie greeted me with no pleasure. "Didn't you clean me out last time?" Her voice held a hint of annoyance, but she gave me a little smile anyway. I can read people like a book, and I could tell my visit was freaking her out a little. Scaring her off wasn't exactly on my agenda, though.

To calm her nerves, I flashed a sly grin and lowered my voice. "Herbs aren't the only thing on my shopping list this time. I need something else, something just as valuable." I even threw in a wink, not my usual move; I'm not big on cheesy gestures.

Stephanie seemed to chill out a bit, but the tension wasn't completely gone.

"So what brings you back? Herbs are kind of my thing, you know."

"But it's not only guys who buy herbs!" I pointed out, gesturing towards the cute customers whispering amongst themselves and stealing glances at me. They seemed just as interested in me as Stephanie's wares.

The shopkeeper visibly relaxed, a genuine smile replacing the forced one. My hint couldn't have been more obvious: a middle-aged dude with a thing for young beauties? Pretty standard assumption, right? Except Stephanie wasn't exactly average. Still, she bought it.

"Of course, of course," she cooed, letting out a little laugh. "Aren't they lovely?"

"Absolutely!" I chirped back, making a beeline for the group of bubbly shoppers.

Among the cute group, I spotted the quietest girl hanging back a little.

"Hey there," I greeted the beauty softly. Up close, she was even more gorgeous: short and petite, with big eyes and amazing honey-colored hair. Totally my type, no lie.

Hold on, why the surprised look? You think I can't appreciate a pretty girl? Wrong! I totally dig it, even though hormones aren't exactly calling the shots anymore.

So yeah, this girl was stunning, but she also looked drained. Like, really tired, escpecially for this early in the day. Weird for someone so young.

Okay, enough with the creepy wide grin. I've been around a while, true, but it's just the years talking. Trust me, I remember what a passionate night feels like—the kind that leaves you wiped out, the best kind of tired, you know, the insomnia of love.

Yeah, I considered that, but an intense lover probably wasn't the culprit here. My gut told me those dark circles under her eyes were due to something else.

"Good morning," the girl replied after a beat. Her voice was exactly as I expected, super shy and insecure, even a little scared. Like I was gonna bite her or something.

"Janus," I said with a warm smile, trying to chill her out. Leaning in a bit, I added with a wink, "Just Jan to close friends..." My voice dropped a notch, hinting that she could be one of those "close friends" too.

This kind of tone, let's call it a magic touch, usually works wonders on shy people. And it worked here too. The timid beauty relaxed and smiled back.

"Nice to meet you, Janus. I'm Layla."

"Layla," I said warmly. "Love that name!"

Her face lit up at the simple compliment. But hey, it's all about delivery—and meaning it, of course. And I meant it.

"Thanks," Layla answered coyly, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "I like it too. It's pretty, right?"

"Oh, yes, it’s wonderful!" I replied confidently. I steered her away from the group, especially Stephanie because I wanted to talk to Layla privately—no eavesdroppers.

"Why were you by the herb stall?" I asked softly, still holding her elbow, my grip instinctively tightening a bit. The best way to disarm a pretty girl is to charm her, you know, play both sides of the fence. "Fancy shops with silks and perfumes seem more your speed..."

A blush crept even higher on her cheeks. "Really?"

"Absolutely!" I confirmed with a grin. "What's a stunner like you need with herbs? Brewing a love potion?" I winked, letting her know I was teasing... But who knows? Maybe I hit the mark!

Layla's gaze flickered with uncertainty, like she wasn't sure if she could spill her secrets to me. I figured it was best to hold off on the pressure for now. With someone like her, gotta play it cool, one step at a time. One wrong word and she might clam up, vanish faster than smoke.

"Okay, let’s forget it!" I said, faking a little extra enthusiasm and flashing a wider smile. "By the way, I'm famished. Didn't have time for breakfast. Care to join me?"

"I, uh, I don't know..." Her voice trailed off. "Maybe..."

"Perfect!" I declared, taking her maybe for a yes. "There's this awesome restaurant nearby, killer food!"  I gestured for her to follow, leading the way.

What's got you frowning like that? Don't sweat it, there's no food police in the Quarter of Legends. You heard right! It's a crazy place where everything blurs the line between real and make-believe, but even in your wildest dreams, you can still grab a delicious bite; all you gotta do is let your imagination run wild. The only twist is, here, in this wonderland, imagination becomes reality.

In no time, we were settled at a cozy local tavern, waiting for our food. Thanks to my suggestion, my companion ordered some oatmeal pancakes drizzled with buckwheat honey, along with a steaming cup of cinnamon coffee. "Perfect for a chilly morning!" I told her, and she totally agreed.

Our feast arrived: a mountain of fresh, fluffy pancakes, a side of honey, and a whole pot of coffee that smelled like Christmas. Man, just thinking about it makes my stomach rumble, even though I'm not hungry. And, judging by your look, my story's got your mouth watering too, right? Don't worry, food's coming. Hang in there a sec!

"So, listen, can I ask you something? What's a beautiful girl like you doing with herbs?" I kept my voice light and breezy, digging into the whipped cream we got for dessert with way too much gusto. Wine might have loosened things up, but breakfast and booze don't exactly go hand-in-hand, so I didn't order it.

Layla sighed and scooped a dollop of the fluffy cream with her spoon. She studied it for a second, like she was trying to guess the flavor before taking a bite.

"Well," the girl started after a moment, her voice kind of down. "It's because of these things, too." She shrugged and went back for another spoonful of cream.

Usually I'm pretty quick on the uptake, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what my adorable, shy companion was hinting at.

"Because of... these things?" I repeated, totally lost. "Like, the whipped cream?"

That guess sounded crazy to me, so I blurted it out with a hint of disbelief. To my surprise, Layla just nodded eagerly.

"Exactly! The cream, the candy, the cakes."

My head was swimming. Women are complex beings, that's for sure, but not usually this cryptic!

"Okay, but what does any of that have to do with the herb lady?"

"I can explain!" Layla perked up, totally energized after a filling breakfast. Now, she was digging into the cream like it wouldn't give her a sugar rush or extra calories.

Don't look so surprised, my boy; girls everywhere care about their weight, even in the crazy Quarter of Legends!

Meanwhile, my gorgeous companion continued:

"I want to stay fit and still enjoy yummy food! Like this whipped cream, you know? Dieting is so boring, I can’t stand it! And the herbalist... she helps. She's got, well, special tricks up her sleeve."

Now, I was starting to get it. A clearer picture was forming in my head, but there were still some fuzzy bits.

"So, Stephanie sells you herbs to help you lose weight, right?" I asked casually.

Layla nodded, still glued to her plate where the last bite of dessert disappeared in no time.

"Yeah, but that's not all. You can make these teas, you know, to speed up your metabolism," she finally looked up and gave me a shy smile. "Probably sounds dumb to a guy, huh?"

"Not at all," I replied honestly. "While I personally don't worry about that stuff much, I totally get the appeal for beautiful ladies like you."

Layla beamed, clearly digging the "beautiful lady" comment. Girls like her are always second-guessing themselves, not trusting mirrors or compliments.

"Stephanie has a lot of useful stuff!" Layla chirped happily. "Not just for ladies, either!"

"Yeah, I heard," I chuckled, remembering the woman practically shoving those... uh... man-boosting potions at me. "Not my thing yet, though..." I trailed off, thinking of my next question, then asked carefully, "So, all these girls... you all buy herbs to brew potions for, uh, what's the nicest way to put it? Looking your best?"

Layla shrugged. "Pretty much," she said, leaning back in her chair now that her plate was clean. "That's why there's a bunch of us... customers, I guess."

I hid a grin behind a smirk, stealing another glance at the girl across from me. Pieces were starting to click. I hadn't personally dealt with anything like this, but I'd heard the rumors... and there was something I read in those intro to magic books that seemed kind of relevant.

Vampirism. Yep, don't freak, that's exactly what it was: a weird kind of vampirism, at least.

"So, do these potions really work?" I asked casually. "Easy to whip up?"

"Totally easy!" Layla chirped. It's crazy how a good meal and some friendly chat can change a person, right? Makes them loosen up and show their true colors. And with my lovely companion here, her colors seemed pretty darn good. "They work wonders! You can chow down on anything and stay slim—isn't that awesome?"

"Yeah, beats jumping rope or starving yourself any day," I smirked, but hopefully it didn't come across too harsh.

Luckily, Layla missed the sarcasm and just smiled. "Exactly! Plus, Stephanie doesn't rip you off for her herbs."

Except it wasn't money she charged... oh well.

I studied Layla, tilting my head. Dark circles under those red eyes... skin like paper, pale and sickly... chapped lips... It all made her face look hollow.

See the problem now? Still lost, Arthur? Come on, buddy, gotta step up your magic game! A wizard  should be able to handle these things.

Alright, that's enough for now. I'll keep going with the story, but hold off on the explanations. Think for yourself, yeah?

"So, how are you feeling overall?" I switched to a friendlier, almost buddy-buddy tone without even thinking about it. Layla didn't seem to mind.

"Feeling?" She blinked, surprised. "Uh, I dunno... Why do you ask? Do I look like bad?"

"No, no, not like that," I backtracked. "Just curious about the side effects of those herbs, you know? Like, are they bad for you?"

Layla took a beat, then shrugged. "Maybe you gotta get used to them first. I felt super run down at the beginning, but then things leveled out."

"Yeah, 'leveled out' into the constant sleepy mode," I thought glumly, pretty sure I'd cracked Stefanie's little scheme. Got it yet? All the hints are there: vampirism, these pretty girls looking sickly, the crazy young herbalist... see where I'm going with this? Alright, alright, storytime continues.

I already had all the intel I needed, so I steered the conversation towards more fun stuff, ditching the herbalist and her shady wares. A few hours later, Layla and I said our goodbyes, both feeling good about the day. We even made this pact to keep in touch, though honestly, that wasn't really my plan.

That night, I dug through the herbs I'd snagged from Stephanie the day before. This time, I knew exactly what I was looking for, and yep, there it was in all its glory.

"Bingo!" I whispered, holding up a vial with a fresh batch of the special potion mix. Beside it lay my trusty old spellbook, the one I practically carried with me back then (experience has taught me memorized spells are totally useless; a real magician works smarter, not harder). The book lay open to a page with an ancient, and kinda dangerous, sorcery ritual. Stefania's little trick, for sure. Still clueless, Arthur? Come on, buddy, thinking cap on... and unleash your imagination!

I cooked up a plan. Stephanie needed to be shut down, but I had to do it carefully, you know, play it cool so she wouldn't spook and vanish. Didn't want to let her keep running her little scam somewhere else.

Sleep was scarce that night. My brain was on overdrive, chewing on every detail and whipping up a special magic spell. By sunrise, I had everything prepped and headed back to the market square. My stomach was churning with nerves – messing up wasn't an option.

Things started well. Stephanie was in her usual spot, chirpy as a robin. Perfect. If she'd been grumpy or hostile, I'd have had to wait, but I was itching to get this over with and move on to something less… tense.

Today, the herbalist practically gushed when she saw me, even threw in a dazzling smile. She glanced at the gaggle of pretty customers around her stall and then, with a sly wink, said:

"Back for more, are we, sir?"

"Janus," I replied with a small smile. "And yeah, you could say that. Back for something... special."

While Stephanie might've been thinking lady-hunting, I had witch-hunting on my mind. Or rather, hunting a specific witch—the very one I was chatting with.

"Good luck!" The "witch" chuckled, turning her back on me and focusing her attention on the customers.... which I could not allow.

"So," I cut straight to the chase, "what's on your agenda tonight?"

Why are you staring at me with such surprise and malice? Madame Merchant, back then, was a sight for sore eyes. Youngish, vibrant… Albeit at a high price, as I already understood. But my interest wasn't purely romantic, although Stephanie wouldn't appreciate knowing that.

"Excuse me?" The surprise in the herbalist's voice mirrored yours, minus the snark. "What do you mean?"

"Isn’t that obvious?," I shrugged, nonchalantly. "I'm looking for some pleasant company for the evening, and you seem like a good fit… unless you have something better planned, of course."

Stephanie's eyes narrowed with suspicion, and I can't blame her for that! She was a smart person with good intuition. She sensed something fishy but couldn't pinpoint where her feeling came from. Unfortunately for me, witches trust their instincts... So, my first task was to lower the herbalist's guard and awaken in her a natural desire to charm men.

"I don't have any plans for tonight," Stephanie finally said, furrowing her brow. "But... why me?"

"Why not?" I responded with a question.

"And what about them? Such beauties!" The woman lowered her voice, expressing displeasure as she nodded towards her charming customers. "Yesterday, you were so passionate about them..."

"That was yesterday!" I replied lightly. "They look nice... but they're not really my type for something serious. Do you know what I mean?"

Stephanie still wasn't buying it, but she was wavering. Deep down, she craved to believe she could outshine these younger beauties with her mature charm. And, honestly, she could... kinda. Look, I wasn't lying, just embellishing a bit.

"What's the worst that happens?" I pressed. "Just coffee, or maybe dinner. You gotta eat anyway, right? And hey, it's always more fun in good company."

Stephanie finally caved and said yes, all high and mighty like she was doing me a favor... but, you know, in a smug and flattered kind of way. 

I left promptly, not giving her a chance to change her mind. Plus, I didn't have time for idle chit-chat, as I needed to prepare for the evening properly. After all, I wasn't planning a dinner in pleasant company... I intended to perform a special witchcraft ritual to neutralize Madame Stephanie.

Now, before you get all judgy, Stephanie hadn't actually hurt me yet. And let's be real, I'm no hero in shining armor. So why the theatrics? Well, I'm a sucker for a good time, too, but I have my limits. And let me tell you, I despise leeches, especially the ones who prey on the weak. That's why I decided to run this little, shall we say, experiment. Plus, gotta keep those sorcerer skills sharp, right? 

So, are you with me on my motives, or still on the fence? Alright, alright, story time continues…

That same night, I popped back into the square. Spruced up, flowers in hand, I couldn't help but worry I wouldn't find Stephanie at her stall. What if she was an Oscar-worthy actress, just playing along? What if she caught wind and bolted? My hard work wouldn't be happy.

But no need to fret. Stephanie was waiting, looking like she'd gotten herself all dolled up just for dinner. New outfit, hair done differently, a hint of lip tint, flowery perfume... she was definitely rocking it.

I chuckled to myself. A woman is always a woman! She wants to ignite sensual desires and excitement in a man... and Stephanie was no exception. So I could relax: the herbalist didn't suspect anything, looking forward to a real date... instead of a magician's duel.

"Wow, Stephanie, you look incredible! Sorry, couldn't help but notice." I said, my smile widening as I saw her. I know women and their ways and know when it's best to show interest and when to play it cool. I was confident that honesty and bold allure would be more effective with someone like Stephanie. And I was correct!

She smiled, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Well, a good evening deserves a little effort, wouldn't you say?"

"Absolutely! And I hope I live up to your standards," I said, offering my hand with a wink. "Shall we? I got us a table."

"Sounds good," she replied with a smile. "Lead the way."

The evening flowed surprisingly well. Forget the whole "fake it 'til you make it" act. I genuinely enjoyed the dinner, as Stefania turned out to be a brilliant, bubbly companion who cracked me up the whole time. For a moment, my mission almost slipped my mind.

Almost. Not entirely. And I wasn't backing out now.

Dessert time. I sat up straighter, took a mental deep breath, and spoke casually:

"How about some wine to top it off? It'd be the perfect ending to the night if you're cool with it?"

"I'm all for it!" Stephanie grinned, radiating pure contentment. From the look of her, those doubts had long vanished.

"Their semi-sweet wine is fantastic," I said, savoring each word and gauging her reaction with every syllable. "Red, semi-sweet. Do you like it?"

Usually, with other company, I'd let my companion choose the wine, but not today. Red semi-sweet was the plan, and nothing else would suffice. My hope was that Stef wouldn't pick up on anything.

Luckily, she seemed oblivious. "I'm not picky," she replied. "Red semi-sweet sounds perfect!"

"Great," I murmured, my fingers brushing against hers across the table. She shivered, a blush creeping up her cheeks like a teenager on a first date.

Our eyes met, and I offered a small smile. This was the crucial moment.

"You're absolutely stunning," I murmured, leaning in a little closer. "And your outfit... wow." My eyes might have lingered on her neckline a beat too long, but hey, Stefania looked pretty good in those days. She exuded a captivating confidence, a woman brimming with mature charm. 

My compliments seemed to both fluster and flatter her. The herbalist wasn't quite used to the constant stream of praise I'd been showering her with all night.

"Thanks," she whispered, a blush creeping up her cheeks. Pulling her hand free from mine, Stephanie reached for a strand of hair—a classic female move to check her appearance, even without a mirror. A soft laugh escaped her lips, and the woman rose from the table, slightly flustered. "Excuse me for a moment," she said. "I'll be right back."

She practically ran for the restroom, clutching her purse like a lifeline. (We all know those purses hold the magical arsenal of every woman's beauty routine, right?)

As she disappeared, I gave the waiter a knowing nod. We'd discussed this beforehand. As soon as Stef left, the agreed-upon wine would arrive.

"Thanks," I said to the waiter as he poured the drinks. "Bring out some dessert later, too. Ice cream or cake, something like that."

This was a turning point, a pivotal moment. Still clueless? Fine, I'll spill the beans. It's about time, right?

Don't be fooled, Arthur. Stephanie isn't just an average, harmless herbalist. She's a powerful witch, a vampire sorceress in fact, who drains the life force of young girls to maintain her youth. And it all happens through her potions, yeah, you heard that right.

Look, I get the appeal of staying young, but not at that cost. There are better ways, still rooted in magic and rituals. I use them myself, believe it or not! But I never steal power from others to extend my time on this earth. I'm smarter than that. And I'll teach you to do the same, too, when the time comes.

Hopefully, you understand why I needed to stop Stephanie. It took me some planning and digging through countless books, but I finally found the right ceremony... one I intended to enact right there, over dinner.

I scrambled to sprinkle the prepped powder into our wine glasses (each had a different one, super important not to mess those up). Luckily, I pulled it off just in time. My new friend strolled back from the bathroom, sliding back into her seat.

"Sorry if I was gone too long," she drawled, clearly trying to channel some kind of movie femme fatale. "Did you miss me?"

I stifled a laugh internally. It was kinda funny seeing people try to wear masks, pretend to be someone they weren't. But I kept my face neutral, no point in riling Stephanie up or getting her suspicious. In fact, the opposite. Why not let her play the irresistible femme fatale? This whole charade would be over soon enough.

"Sure, I missed you," I assured the woman, flashing her a big smile. "Speaking of, the wine's here. Cheers?"

Unsuspecting, Stefania nodded and grabbed her glass. My stomach twisted with nerves – almost there! The finale's always the most thrilling, especially when you're new to the mage game. After a while, you get used to it, the anxiety fades.

Hold on, Arthur, what was your question again? Ah, right, wondering about the fancy wine and dessert, huh? Let me break it down for you.

See, that was the gist of the ritual I found in a dusty old book after a lot of digging. Basically, the target has to drink this red, semi-sweet wine spiked with a special herb and spice mix. As a mage, I have my own version, different herbs, of course. Then, we both get some sugar—a glucose boost, you know? After that, it's all about me doing this complex magic hand thing, and bam! Results. Pretty elaborate and over-the-top, I gotta admit. Nowadays, I'd take a simpler approach, but hey, I was young, a rookie. Back then, I thought the flashier the ritual, the better the odds… yeah, turns out I was wrong about that.

Anyway, enough reminiscing. We're almost at the good part, just hang tight and listen up.

"How's the wine?" I asked casually, swirling the liquid in my glass. We both needed to make a decent dent in those goblets for the plan to work.

"Not bad!" Stephanie declared, adopting a surprisingly expert air (though I knew better). To my relief, she took another swig. "I like it!"

I mirrored her action, forcing down a mouthful. The wine wasn't terrible, but it wouldn't win any awards. Still, its taste was irrelevant.

"It has a distinct flavor," the herbalist mused, holding her glass up to the light. "And a... lingering aftertaste. Interesting, to say the least." She smacked her lips, apparently dissecting the complex bouquet.

My stomach lurched. This woman was sharper than I gave her credit for. Of course, the concoction would have unusual properties—that was the whole point.

"Strong, too," Stephanie mumbled, her voice becoming sluggish and her gaze unfocused.

I stifled a smile. Strong indeed, and not just from the alcohol content.

My own drink, however, worked differently. Each sip felt like an awakening, my energy levels rising as Stephanie's inexplicably dwindled. She remained blissfully unaware, for now.

The waiter materialized at our table like a genie answering a prayer, saving me from having to reply to Stephanie's cryptic comment.

"That's a brownie, our specialty here," he announced, setting down elegant saucers with a fancy chocolate dessert sprinkled with nuts. "Chef's signature recipe."

I took a bite of the "signature treat" and shrugged internally. Just a sweet cake, nothing to write home about. But "sweet" was the key word. Sugar, that was the fuel I needed!

"Not bad," I mumbled, feigning enthusiasm. I needed to set a good example and get Stephanie to take a bite.

Thankfully, the woman dove right in, oblivious to the metaphorical bear trap she was stepping into.

"Delicious!" Stephanie declared, practically inhaling the brownie. Looks like she was a genuine fan of chocolate.

All the better.

As I watched the herbalist fuss with the cake, I took a deep breath and muttered the spell under my breath while making a magical hand gesture. I know now that just thinking the words in my head would work way better, especially in Legend's Quarter. But back then, like I said, I was a newbie and adored all that fancy ritual stuff. Didn't know a well-formed thought was more powerful than any air show, and a whole lot less conspicuous to boot.

"Ugh, I feel... weird..." Stefania mumbled, setting down a teaspoon with a weak hand and closing her eyes. She went pale all of a sudden, her whole body going limp as she slumped back in the chair. "So... sleepy..."

I puffed out my chest, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. I may have acted confident, but honestly, it was mostly smoke and mirrors. Sure, I'd had some success, but not exactly a brag-worthy track record. And who knew how skilled Stefania was? Some healers, even the seemingly harmless ones, could whip up a deadly potion, even one that wouldn't kill you right away.

"Sleepy, huh?" I echoed casually, finally letting myself unwind. This time, my smile wasn't intended to charm; it was a pure, unadulterated triumph. I'd won, my first real victory, and it felt amazing.

"Yeah," Stephanie replied, her voice weak. She struggled to sit up straighter and force her eyes open. "Dizzy and sleepy... maybe the wine hit a little hard..."

"Hit a little hard, you say? You have no idea how right you are!" I chuckled, letting the words roll off my tongue. This victory was intoxicating, on more levels than one. The life energy I siphoned from Stephanie buzzed in my veins, making me lightheaded.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The herbalist's voice sharpened, suspicion finally cracking through their facade. "Did you... did you spike my drink? What have you done with it?"

Her eyes widened in horror as she stared at her glass. Stefania likely tried to scramble, pull herself together, maybe even come up with a plan to escape... but it was too late. She might have had a shot if she'd figured it out sooner, but now the jig was up.

"But... you drank the wine too," she rasped, her face flushed and sweaty. All traces of charm and beauty had melted away, leaving behind a frail, elderly woman with fading features.

"So? My glass was fine. The wine itself is perfect," I shrugged.

"Did you... put something in only MY drink?" she gasped, fear laced with fury in her eyes. "While I was gone? What the heck?!"

"Let's just say I discovered a fascinating recipe," I explained with glee. "Now you're dependent on me. Or should I say, we have a new little connection... one involving you, me, and your youth."

"My youth?" the woman echoed, her voice laced with disbelief. Even though the spell was just kicking in, her skin already looked dull and pale gray, losing its youthful glow. "What do you mean?"

"Those 'miracle herbs' you peddle to young girls," I replied eagerly. "You have them brewing concoctions supposedly to stay slim, right?"

"Supposedly? They actually work," Stefania countered, still looking sick but slowly regaining some strength. It wasn't my intention to kill her, anyway, just to get her out of her game.

"Oh, they work alright!" I grinned. "But there's more to it than weight loss. The girl drinks your potion and... donates a portion of her youth to you. A clever little plan, I must say. Almost as clever as mine."

Stephanie glared daggers at me. Right now, she was powerless to stop me.

"So what's your endgame?" she hissed, eyes narrowed like a predator. "Killing me?"

I raised an eyebrow, a silent question.

"Why kill you? You're not going anywhere," I explained. "You just can't exploit those naive girls anymore. Instead, you'll be funneling their 'powers' straight to me. I'm the new top dog, you're just a middleman. And on top of that, some of your own energy is coming my way too. Pretty neat, huh?"

Let's just say she wasn't thrilled. Her eyes burned with hatred, her nostrils flared, and her knuckles were white-knuckled, gripping the table like she wanted to strangle me. 

Hey, don't judge, you'd probably be thinking the same thing! I admit, I laid it on a bit thick. But the spell was siphoning Stefania's strength, the stuff she stole from those girls, and pumping it into me like crazy. The energy surge was heady, making my ears ring.

"And you used my own herbs to pull all this off?!" she sputtered, her chest heaving. "The ones I collected myself?!"

Maybe that's what burned her the most, while I found the whole thing pretty funny.

"What can I say? I'm not exactly an herbalist," I said, spreading my hands. "Heard some stuff about full moons and last quarters, you know, the whole deal. You're the expert, not me."

"I don't buy it. No way you, some magic newbie, could make a potion like that! Impossible."

I shrugged again. "Stubborn as ever, Stefa. You healers see the world in herbs and tinctures, but I'm a magician, remember? Herbs are just one piece of the puzzle. Spellwork was involved too, and, for the record, it wasn't even a potion. Herbs have other uses, you know."

I kept the details under wraps, no need to spill all my secrets. Besides, the image she had in her head was hilarious: me hunched over a cauldron, stirring some bubbling concoction. Talk about a picture-perfect stereotype!

Sure, I used herbs, but they are just a powder that makes the victim's mind more malleable when mixed with wine. Then the spell kicks in, and sugar seals the deal. Though, looking back, there were definitely faster and easier ways to do it. Experience is a great teacher, after all.

"If you don't want to be just a middleman, then cut ties with the whole operation," I said calmly, still smiling.

"The whole operation?" Stefania furrowed her brow, struggling to follow my reasoning.

"Yes, the operation that starts with you peddling questionable herbs to these poor souls who want to lose weight and look better without putting in any real effort," I explained more clearly. "They say, no chain, no problem."

"Not exactly," Stephanie disagreed. The crease between her eyebrows deepened, and her lips formed a tight, colorless line. "The problem still exists."

I understood her in my own way.

"Unfortunately, aging is inevitable. That's just the way of life... for humans and beyond. Accept it! Being old is not so bad."

Don't smirk, Arthur. I know I look much younger than my actual age. It's the perk of being a sorcerer and magician. Witches don't have that luxury... I draw power from the Universe itself, not from others or by draining the life force of those around me.

"Look," the woman rasped, squeezing her eyes shut as fatigue clawed at her again. "It's bigger than just getting old, alright? Way bigger."

"What do you mean?" I blurted, genuinely surprised.

"Life itself!" she snapped, cracking open one eye and glaring at me through a curtain of lashes. "I'm not just getting old, I'm dying. Fast. Soon. And it's your fault."

 

I scowled. Stephanie's demise wouldn't exactly send me into mourning, but I wasn't keen on having her blood on my conscience either. The herbalist wasn't exactly Mother Teresa, but murder seemed a bit much for a grumpy witch.

"So that life-extension gig you've got going? Been at it a while, huh?" I mused, piecing things together. "Your time's already up, isn't it?"

Stephanie averted her gaze.

"Yeah," she mumbled after a beat, her voice flat. "Been using it for a long time. A long, long time. Technically, I shouldn't even be here anymore. That's why I spend so much time stuck in this place, this other world... the normal one rejects me."

"Right," I said, nodding slowly. "You're kind of... not supposed to be here anymore."

"Maybe not! But I don't want to die."

"Nobody does. But those are the rules, and we don't exactly get to pick and choose."

I took a deep breath, trying to see this differently. Come to think of it, I wouldn't have killed her. I would let her fate run its course, that’s all. About damn time, too!

"Why are you so scared of dying" I asked bluntly. "It's just a natural part of life, you know, the end of the line."

She scoffed, throwing her head back. "I'm a witch, remember? There's nothing good waiting for us on the other side."

"Oh, you mean your soul gets sucked straight to hell or something?" I couldn't resist a little jab.

She shrugged. "That's what they say. That's how I was raised."

"Well, you were raised wrong," I stated confidently. "The truth is, nobody really knows what happens to a witch's soul after they die. And besides, all those tricks you've been pulling? They could definitely mess with your afterlife. As for being a witch itself... meh, not exactly a top tier gig."

Now, between us, Arthur, witches are kind of a special case, not exactly the most esteemed group. Their magic is basically vampiric, you know, sucking the energy and manipulating people. Yeah, there's always a price to pay, even for vampiric magic.

We, on the other hand, the magicians, we work with the very fabric of the universe. That's our main advantage over those witchy types.

But I figured there was no point in rubbing it in. Stephanie wasn't exactly in the mood for a lecture, so I kept my thoughts to myself.

"Help me..." Stephanie rasped, her voice barely a whisper. Her eyes, searching mine, held a desperate plea. "Help me break the spell. Please!"

I gave a resolute shake of my head. "No way. The cost is too high."

Her eyes narrowed. "Of course," she muttered, her voice laced with venom. "These 'beauties,' as you call them, matter more. No shocker there."

Such jibes usually went over my head, but this one sparked a wry chuckle. "Well, yes, these 'beauties,' as you put it, are quite lovely and, dare I say, innocent. Unlike you. So tell me, why should I choose you? Give me one good reason."

Stephanie visibly strained to pull away from the chair, leaning heavily towards me. It wasn't the brightest idea: the dimly lit restaurant, with flickering candlelight casting harsh shadows on my companion's face, only seemed to age her more. I forced myself not to flinch, struck by the stark contrast between this weary woman and the rosy-cheeked, vibrant herbalist I'd invited to dinner just a few hours ago.

My spell was certainly effective, siphoning away Stephanie's life force too quickly, even faster than I'd planned. The last thing I needed was her collapsing right there at the table. That wouldn't be funny.

Unease gnawed at me. I reached for my glass, needing to both quench my suddenly dry throat and mask my growing disarray. Taking a large gulp, I choked slightly on the liquid.

"Why the silence?" I took a breath and replied in the same confident, slightly sarcastic tone, hoping to mask any sign of vulnerability. "Tell me already, why should I choose you? What makes you more deserving than them? They're younger, prettier, more innocent..."

"And naive," the herbalist added softly, a sly smile playing on her lips.

"Semantics," I shrugged, a smile flickering across my own face. "Youth and naivete often go hand in hand. It's expected and forgivable at the outset of life. But it's not just about naivete; it's a lack of experience. Regardless, you haven't answered my question, and I'm asking for the last time: why should I choose you over your customers, even the naive ones?"

"I can't tell you why you should choose me," the witch replied, her voice dropping to a low murmur. Her gaze narrowed meaningfully. "But you can."

My brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you trying to bribe me?" I finally asked, letting out a chuckle at the absurdity of the suggestion.

She shrugged, unfazed by my reaction. "Not with money, of course. But I'm an experienced witch, capable of great things. I can be of assistance. Just tell me what you desire."

A flicker of empathy crossed me as I witnessed her desperation. This poor woman would do anything to survive. I might even consider it... if the cost for my compassion wasn't so steep.

"Don't forget," I replied, a hint of sympathy in my voice, "I'm a magician myself. Competent, hmm... one could say. So, your help isn't necessary."

Her gaze remained fixed on me, filled with fervent hope. She scrutinized my face, searching for any sign of weakness, any vulnerability she could exploit to sway me to her cause.

As I told you before, Arthur, everyone has weaknesses, even us magic folks. But we know how to hide our, well, "chinks in the armor," that's why we're not easy targets (unless we're facing a real heavy hitter). Stephanie wouldn't have found my kryptonite in such a short time, not unless we were, like, friends for a while. Then, yeah, maybe she could've figured out some of my soft spots, but not in one night!

"Please," the herbalist croaked, laying it on thick. Clever, I'll give her that. I did feel a pang of sympathy for my unfortunate companion. "Just help me!"

"I can't," I said, firm as ever. "No matter what you offer, it's a hard no. I won't be an accomplice to hurting people, especially those wide-eyed young girls. They don't know what they're getting into, you know?"

"Help me… I’ll do anything… Please!" she practically whimpered.

I often give you a hard time, Arthur, for your mumbling, and Stephanie wasn't any better at this point. Her begging was all over the place. What exactly did she want from me? What kind of help? I had some ideas, but why should I have to play mind reader?

"Be specific," I said, getting annoyed. "What exactly do you need?

“Help me stay alive. I promise I'll return the favor someday."

I grimaced. Even if I was inclined to help, it wouldn't be because I wanted some kind of payback. The whole "witch offering a reward" thing didn't sit right with me.

"I need to think," I muttered, going through my mental spellbook. "I don't know if I can help yet, and even if I can, I can't promise anything specific."

Hope flickered in the woman's eyes, momentarily brightening her face and making her appear younger. Leaning closer, the herbalist asked hesitantly, "Will you try to help me? Please?"

"I'll definitely consider some options," I clarified, avoiding empty promises. "Right now, I can't guarantee anything."

She nodded, sinking back in her chair and closing her eyes. "I understand... thanks anyway. It really means a lot... but there's one thing..."

I furrowed my brow. "What's that?"

"I don't have much time," Stephanie explained with a sad voice, her gaze dropping. "I… don't know how long I have left."

I absorbed her words with a nod.

"Well, let's hope you make it until morning. I need at least a night to figure something out."

A night is a lot, especially considering the Quarter of Legends and similar places. Time here flows differently, more malleable, even somewhat controllable within limits.

But Stephanie looked terrible. What if she didn't make it through the night? No, that wouldn't do.

"Let's head to my place, just to be safe," I said, thinking aloud. "I can search for a good spell while keeping an eye on you."

Stephanie opened her eyes, a weak smile gracing her lips. "Do you think I'm dangerous now? I highly doubt it."

"It's not about danger," I returned the smile. "I want to make sure you're okay. I don't want to spend all night searching for a solution, only to find you... gone in the morning." I saw her flinch but kept things real. "I need to know if you're getting worse, so I can adjust if needed. Slow things down, maybe even try to pause them... like an ambulance, you get it?"

"Buy a goat..." Stephanie mumbled, her eyelids fluttering shut again. Right?

My brow furrowed as I repeated in surprise, "Buy a goat?"

"Isn't that what they say?" she rasped, each word a struggle. "Buy a goat, settle into your apartment, turn your life into a living nightmare... then sell the goat and realize how good your life is without it..." Her voice trailed off, her words labored. I started to worry she wouldn't make it until morning. This spell was definitely a doozy.

"So, the goat represents your borrowed youth?" I asked, piecing together her analogy. "Yeah, then buying the goat was definitely unsmart move."

"Not quite," Stefania cracked open an eye, just enough to shoot me a playful dig through her lashes. "You're the one who bought the goat, not me!"

"Me? What does that even mean?"

"I'll get to it!" The herbalist chuckled, shaking her head. "You went through a lot of trouble finding the right concoction and making me drink it..."

"It wasn't a concoction," I corrected firmly, "a spell."

She waved me off. "Whatever! Point is, it wasn't easy, right?"

"Exaggerating a bit, aren't we? Piece of cake."

(Of course, I was bending the truth. And Stephanie knew it.)

"Sure, sure," she said, her voice weak but playful. "Play your superhero act all you want. Doesn't matter anyway. You put in the effort, right? So now you gotta figure out how to save me. See my point? You're stuck with the goat you bought on a whim."

I chuckled, impressed by her audacity. She wasn't afraid to poke at me, which I respected. I have a soft spot for the bold ones.

"What if I changed my mind and just left you here?" I asked, playing along. "Wouldn't be selling that goat then, would I?"

"You wouldn't leave," the witch said with a hint of a smirk. "If you were going to, you would have already. Now it's too late..."

"True enough," I agreed, a smile tugging at my lips. 

Interesting character indeed. Looked like I was going the extra mile to save her.

I cocked my head, studying Stephanie. The witch leaned back, eyes closed, her breaths coming out shallow and raspy. She looked easily a decade and a half older than that morning, yet even now, her very presence carried a powerful inner fire. Not just an old woman, but a seasoned witch.

"Maybe you have a point," I said after a thoughtful pause. "But here's the thing: I don't regret a thing. It was worth the effort."

My voice cut through her fatigue, pulling her out of her light doze. Stefania straightened, opened her eyes, and gave me a confused look.

"You really think so? I don't get you. What's your game? What's in it for you?"

I could've told her about feeling sorry for those young girls. I could've explained my dislike for draining life energy. But she didn't know me well enough to believe in, well, my good intentions. So, I gave her another reason, true but secondary:

"It's all about practice for me. I'm not as experienced as you are in the magical arts. And I don't mind honing my skills. The best way to do that is through practice... and as you can see, I did pretty good, wouldn't you say?"

I admit, I might have been a bit cocky, proud of my first real success. Can you blame me?

"Well, you are good," Stefania offered a weak smile, more like a grimace that further contorted her face. "I'm a formidable opponent. But you only won because you caught me off guard."

I shrugged.

"Knowing the right moment and surprising your enemy... that's key to winning any battle."

"Maybe," the witch conceded, a hint of grudging respect in her voice.

A heavy silence settled between us, each lost in our own thoughts. No telling where Stefania's mind wandered (maybe just gathering her strength). As for me, I was strategizing, formulating a rough plan of action.

"Alright, let's cut the chit-chat," I finally announced, flagging down the waiter. "We're heading to my place."

With her bright morning appearance, my words might have seemed ambiguous. But it wasn’t the case anymore, so looking like a lovey-dovey couple wasn't exactly our vibe. Nobody would jump to conclusions about Stephanie and me being… involved.

"Okay, you think you can stand?" I asked, rising from my chair.

Stephanie grabbed my hand, her grip strong enough to elicit a wince from me. She struggled to get up, finally managing it on the third attempt.

I'll spare you the details of our journey back to my haven. It wasn't exactly a walk in the park. Let's just say the woman practically lived on my back, her strength completely depleted. By the time I reached my apartment in the Quarter of Legends, I had been drenched in sweat.

Ah, yes, the Quarter of Legends. I have my own place here. Found it, claimed it, made it mine. It's always awaits me, wherever my travels take me. Rent? In the Quarter of Legends? Please. It's all about imagination and weaving the fabric of your desires here. Similar principles apply to the outside world, though with a bit more lag… but that's a story for another time. Back to our tale, shall we?

My place is tucked away on the outskirts, nestled in the basement of an old building. It's a cozy little haven, really: one main room, a workspace, a kitchenette – that's about it. Maybe I'll have you over for coffee sometime.

Anyway, as I entered, I bumped into the doorman, who gave me a self-important nod. I returned it automatically, my mind already racing with the question I never bothered to ask: what's his story? Every resident here has a secret, a legend whispered in the shadows. Don't roll your eyes; even the doorman would have a tale to tell.  I mean, why the doorman? He could have chosen any role in this crazy world! Hiding from the reality? Visiting the Quarters in his dreams? Maybe he's not even human, some kind of demon in disguise? I didn't get a good look, so I couldn't say for sure.

No time for existential musings right now. My head was elsewhere. But I made a mental note to dig deeper into the doorman's situation later, once things calmed down. (By the way, I followed through on that promise, but that's a story for another time.) Back to the present, shall we?

Dragging Stephanie to my apartment definitely took it out of me. Even in the Quarter of Legends, you can get tired and sweaty.

"Maybe you could lighten the load a bit," I mumbled under my breath as I lowered the witch into a deep armchair by the fireplace. Stepping back, I wiped the sweat from my brow and muttered, "Seriously, you're like a small hippo..."

I might have been pushing things with the last comment, especially dealing with a witch. But Stefania wasn't exactly in a position to retaliate for a little teasing. Chances are the poor woman didn't even hear me. Her chest heaved with shallow breaths as she sat there, unconscious.

After confirming she was just asleep, I grabbed a blanket and draped it over her. Speaking of grabbing things, I have a ton of books here—not a single work of fiction in the bunch! My Quarter of Legends apartment is a treasure trove of rare tomes you wouldn't find anywhere in the real world. Here, you can even stumble upon texts written in forgotten centuries, lost to time.

For hours, I paced the shelves, occasionally snagging a book at random, flipping through it, and tossing it back in disappointment. I didn't have a clue what I was looking for, just following a gut feeling. Every now and then, I'd steal a glance at Stefania to make sure she was okay, still asleep. Thankfully, yep, the witch seemed alright—alive, at least, even though her sleep was unsettling.

Speaking of sleep! The Quarter of Legends is a whole other beast, and the dreams here are seriously trippy and weird. Like, Salvador Dalí paintings on steroids. You know Dalí, right? Surreal stuff! Maybe someday I'll take you on a tour through the Dream Universe—dangerous territory to navigate without a seasoned guide like me. You could end up totally bonkers. (Seeing the fear in your eyes? Relax, I wouldn't drag you through Dalí-land until you're ready. Not a chance.)

Anyway, Stephanie wasn't on my worry list. A skilled witch wouldn't get lost in dreamland, even if it was a Dalí fever dream. No way would some surrealism drive her crazy. In fact, I was hoping she'd find some strength there, something to fight for life and maybe even help me out.

**That's a fair question: why bother helping her? Honestly, I'm not even sure myself. Maybe I just felt bad for her. Despite everything, she tugged at my heartstrings, and I genuinely wanted to find a way to stretch out her life, even if it wasn't perfect.  **

But the search was a slog. I flipped through all these massive tomes, but nothing useful jumped out. Maybe focusing just on spells was a bad move.

"Ugh, not working," I muttered, tossing another book aside in frustration. None of them were to blame for my dead ends. "Gotta change tactics..."

I decided to try some magic rituals outside my comfort zone. After scanning the sleeping witch, I grabbed the Potions book. Normally, I wouldn't touch a witch's cauldron with a ten-foot pole, but why not? Besides, I wouldn't be the one stuck brewing—I just needed to find the right recipe. Stephanie could handle the rest.

And guess what? Switching gears worked! In about fifteen minutes, I found a decent enough potion recipe. It wasn't ideal, but it was a start.

Now all I had to do was wake Stephanie up and explain my plan.  "Almost there, Stefa," I said, pushing myself. "Hang in there."

Good point, Arthur! Of course, the witch in dreamland wouldn't be much help stirring a complicated potion with a million ingredients. But I had another idea in mind.

I was going to use a powerful spell that kicks the body's internal systems into overdrive, basically bringing someone back from the brink of death. Nasty side effects galore, but hey, sometimes that's the only option on the table.

"Alright, let's do this," I muttered, trying to sound upbeat. Truth be told, I was freaking out a little. Not gonna lie, I wasn't exactly brimming with confidence.

I stopped by Stephanie's chair, brow furrowed and lip bitten. This wasn't going to be a walk in the park. The spell was complex and a major energy drain. No way I had enough power in the tank, or so I thought. I knew the theory inside and out, but book smarts only go so far.

My only choice was to do my best, and it worked. The ritual took forever and wiped me out completely, but I got it done. No need to get bogged down in the details; that's a whole other lecture. Let's just say the ceremony revolves around manipulating pure energy. Spells and fancy hand gestures are just training wheels for newbies, which is exactly what I was in those days. Back then, I couldn't tap directly into the universe's energy reserves, so my body had to act as a conduit. No wonder I felt like a deflated balloon by the end.

Exhausted, I slumped to the floor, back against the wall, and squeezed my eyes shut. If anything, I was the one who was practically out cold now, not Stephanie.

"You good?" A rough, unrecognizable voice rasped. "Alive?"

It took everything I had to crack open my eyes and find the source of the sound. There was Stephanie, sitting up a little straighter in her chair, looking like she'd come back from the dead herself.

"How're you holding up?" she rephrased, seeing I was alive. Her voice was still way off, deeper than usual, almost masculine. "You look... rough."

I let out a shaky chuckle and shook my head.

"Hilarious," I croaked, managing a weak smile. "Thanks for the bedside manner, doc."

Stephanie shrugged. Unlike me, she looked almost human again. Gone was the half-dead thing I'd hauled back to my place hours ago. But she wasn't exactly the spry young herb lady from this morning either.

"I still have no idea what's going on," the woman admitted. "I wake up and there you are, slumped against the wall, looking like you're out cold. I wasn't even sure you were alive."

"Alive-ish," I mumbled, checking myself in. Slowly, I did start to feel a bit stronger, even managed to get on my feet. "Definitely feeling the bumps and bruises, though..."

"At least I'm getting better," Stephanie said, offering a small smile. "Guess I owe you a thank you then... Seems like you helped me out somehow."

"Hold on," I interrupted, a flicker of hesitation crossing my face. "I am gonna help you. That's why I brought you back... uh... from the brink."

Stephanie's brow furrowed, picking up on the weird phrasing.

"Lost track of you there..." she drawled, suspicion creeping into her voice. "I do feel better, right? Wasn't that the whole point?"

"Not quite," I said vaguely. "The goal was to fully recharge you, but so far, it seems like it's only a temporary fix."

"Temporary? How temporary?" The herbalist asked after a moment's silence. "I don't exactly want to go back to that dark place again." She shuddered, likely remembering the void of non-existence that swallowed her for a few hours. Escaping that had been rough, and she definitely didn't want to repeat the unpleasant trip.

You know what, Arthur? Our fears seem to materialize faster than our dreams. And Stephanie's death anxiety was turning real right in front of me—she didn't even have to actually die for it to happen, at least not yet. Dark humor, I know.

"Unfortunately, this little fix isn't permanent," I sighed, brushing off my pants and heading over to her chair. I plopped down on the floor, crossing my legs. "So, no time to waste! Gotta fill you in on everything while you're still here, with me, and conscious."

"That's a relief, I guess," Stephanie grumbled. "Stuck with you instead of, like, the afterlife? Is that the point?"

"Look, I hate to be blunt, but niceties can wait. We're on a time crunch here."

Alright, listen up. Time to spill the beans about my plan. Remember that potion I found? The recipe was wild—tons of ingredients, a real headache for someone like me who's potion-challenged. But for a seasoned herbalist like Stephanie? Cooking up that "soup" would be a breeze. At least, that was my hope.

The thing is, the potion could seriously extend her lifespan, but there's a catch—a nasty side effect. Stephanie would be stuck in the Quarter of Legends forever, like a permanent resident. Plus, she would have to down this special tonic every single day, no exceptions.

"Here you go, take a look," I said to her, slapping the book down on the counter, open to the right page. "Listen, I'm really sorry, but this is the best I could find."

Stefania furrowed her brow, scanning the recipe back and forth like a hawk. Her face practically screamed that this wasn't what she had in mind. Couldn't say I'd blame her. Stuck forever in the Quarter of Legends? No thanks.

"Yeah, not exactly sunshine and rainbows," she muttered, plopping the beat-up book onto her lap. "But thanks anyway."

Her "thanks anyway" stung a bit. Thanks anyway? Like I was doing her some huge favor?

"You can keep looking for a better recipe, you know," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just, uh, try not to take forever. Clock's ticking, after all."

"Nah," Stefania scoffed, pretending to weigh my suggestion. "Sure, I've got more experience than you under my belt, but whipping up a miracle cure in no time flat? Not gonna happen. Let's work with what we have, shall we?" She sat up straighter, like she was ready to jump into action right then and there.

Look, I'm not the pitying type, you know that. But in that moment, I felt something weird, a pang of sympathy maybe. This woman was incredible! Back in the day, she must have had guys falling at her feet—even now, in rough shape, she sparked unfamiliar emotions in me.

"The key is getting you through the next bit," I said after a beat, trying to soothe her ruffled feathers. "Then you can take your time figuring out how to get back to... well, the real world."

She stared at me, a thin smile playing on her lips. "Nope. Not likely, is it? You get what I'm saying, right?"

I kept my mouth shut and just shrugged, looking away. Can you guess what she was hinting at? Probably not. Here's the thing: the Quarter of Legends is a strange place. You can live here for a loooong time, but you gotta dip back into the outside world every now and then. Otherwise, it kicks you out, slams the door in your face forever.

"Yeah, I get it," I said after a moment. "Not exactly a walk in the park. But hey, the alternative is curtains for you, right? Maybe this whole 'hell' thing you've cooked up in your head isn't so bad after all."

Stephanie flinched, a visible shiver wracking her body. My words scared her, sure, but they also lit a fire under her. Time to get down to business.

"You're right, enough chit-chat!" she barked, pushing herself out of her chair a little too quickly. "Let's do this."

There's no point explaining the potion-making process in detail. Trust me, I'm no master brewer. Besides, Stephanie's the expert, so we can always ask her for advice; she'll walk us through it if needed.

Long story short, the herbalist and I spent the rest of the night brainstorming a plan and making a grocery list of magical ingredients. Stephanie crunched some numbers, furrowed her brow, chewed on her lip, then announced she had everything in stock.

"Just a heads-up," I said, feeling a flicker of worry. "You'll need to boil this weird brew every single day. Think you can find these, uh, special herbs all the time?"

Stephanie shrugged, barely glancing up from the recipe. "Gotta do what you gotta do," she muttered. Not getting an answer, she finally looked up and added with a hint of condescension, "Don't sweat it. Everything's way easier in the Quarter of Legends. You just gotta know how to ask for what you need."

"Yeah, you're right," I conceded, calming down a bit.

"So, how long do I have?" she asked, flipping back to the recipe.

"Depends on what you mean," I stammered.

Stephanie shot me a look, and I realized I'd messed up. "Right, right," I said. "How long does your magic shield last?"

"Yeah, because brewing this ain't happening in an hour," she explained, tapping the page impatiently. "Even with your, uh, assistance."

"Honestly, I don't know," I admitted, guilt gnawing at me. "A lot depends on your inner strength. You seem pretty tough, though. Feeling okay so far, right?"

"Yeah, for now," she mumbled.

"Let's hope it lasts a long time," I chuckled nervously. My own energy was slowly coming back, even though I was still shaky. Good thing wizards don't need other people or crazy potions to recharge—we just tap straight into the universe, you know? "So, how about we head over to your place, closer to all those herbs? Time to cook this miracle mush, or whatever it's called."

And that's exactly what we did.

She lived in a one-story cottage tucked away in a private village a few miles from my place. It wasn't your typical witch's lair by any stretch—more like a regular ol' house, nothing fancy. Except maybe the kitchen. That room was overflowing with spices, herbs, and all sorts of weird stuff.

"Honestly, I pictured something more... witchy," I chuckled, taking a look around. "So, you ready to get started?"

"Let's do this!" Stephanie said, practically bouncing with excitement. I guess she was revved up about brewing this crazy multi-ingredient potion. And I can't blame her. Who doesn't like a good magical challenge now and then, right?

Unfortunately for me, I was stuck playing lowly apprentice for this project. No way around it—Stephanie needed me as her sidekick, so I swallowed my pride and followed her orders like a good little soldier. The witch, on the other hand, was loving bossing me around. 

By nightfall, the concoction was finally simmered to perfection. It came in the nick of time—Stephanie's morning pep had vanished, replaced by bone-deep exhaustion. She could barely hold herself upright.

"Done..." the woman mumbled, collapsing into a chair and squeezing her eyes shut. "Looks like it's ready..."

"Perfect timing!" I said, watching Stephanie with concern. "Ready to give this a shot?"

"Pour it," she rasped, not bothering to open her eyes. "Please..." Her voice sounded weak and scratchy.

I shrugged and silently filled an empty glass with the brew. It wasn't a feast for the eyes: thick, murky, and smelling like a swamp after a heavy rain.

"Here you go," I said, handing Stephanie her "compote." "Bottoms up, I guess."

Stephanie, pale as a ghost, pressed her lips to the glass and took a shaky gulp. She scrunched up her nose; yeah, not exactly a gourmet beverage. Here's to hoping this wasn't all for nothing.

"Tastes like swamp water," she muttered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "But it could be worse. I'd much rather have wine, but…" she shrugged, taking another, smaller sip. "This will have to do."

"Just remember," I reminded her, "you gotta down this stuff every single day. Think you can stomach it?"

"What choice do I have?" she replied, one eye cracking open. "If there is one, I haven't heard it. I'll deal with it."

I nodded, satisfied with her answer. This Stephanie, she had guts. Under different circumstances, we could've been friends, you know? Great conversation going here, but friendship is way more than just shooting the breeze, right?

* * *

Janus cracked open his eyes with a sigh. Reliving his memories, he closed them like he was trying to zoom in on the past and see all the scenes he'd been painting for Arthur.

"That's about it," he finished, flashing Arthur a grin. The kid was hanging on every word, totally inspired by what he heard. Janus could make even the dullest stuff sound fascinating… and the magician's story was anything but boring.

"So, wait," Arthur finally piped up, "what happened in the end?"

Janus, never one to miss a chance to poke fun, jumped in with: "Come on, kid, use your head! You see Stephanie there, right? Alive and kicking. Seems pretty straightforward, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, sure," Arthur mumbled, a little huffy. "But that's not what I meant."

"Then spit it out," Janus chuckled. "Gotta learn how to speak your mind clearly, right? Don't make people play guessing games with your words."

Arthur groaned. Yeah, the teacher was a stickler for precise wording. Unfortunately, according to Janus at least, his student wasn't always up to snuff. Arthur, well, he had a different opinion.

"Yeah, I get what you're saying," Arthur said. "The big picture for Stephanie; is she still stuck in this Quarter of Legends place?"

Janus's brow furrowed. "That's the last I heard, at least. Honestly, I don't keep tabs on her every move."

Arthur tilted his head, mulling it over. Some things still didn't click. "Wouldn't Madame Stephanie, you know, go back to her old tricks?" he asked cautiously after a beat. "Since you're not exactly keeping an eye on her, maybe she'd take a chance and start fresh!"

"Nah," Janus scoffed, almost like he was trying to convince himself more than Arthur. "My magic's still holding strong. Stephanie can't suck the life out of any girls without me feeling it. And why would she, anyway? Any power she nabs that way would just flow straight to me. What's the point, right?"

Arthur wasn't buying it. "What if she finds another magic recipe that does the same thing?"

Janus's frown deepened. "You got me there, kid. Not many pull that off! But hey," he added, catching the smug look on Arthur's face, "don't get ahead of yourself. It's not like you're Mr. Brilliant every day. Enjoy your moment of glory..."

The satisfied smirk vanished from Arthur's face faster than you could say 'abracadabra.' Janus, ever the charmer, continued nonchalantly:

"You do have a point, though. We gotta check her…. but that's a job for later."

Arthur, catching the plural 'we,' blurted out, "Hold on, one more question! Can I ask?"

"If it's not just idle curiosity, fire away. When have I ever shut you down?" Janus raised an eyebrow. "More like the opposite, am I right?"

Arthur chuckled to himself. Here was the great Janus, always harping on Arthur about "precise wording" yet answering a question with a question! Talk about double standards, right?

"Not just curious," the guy explained. "I'm trying to get a clearer picture. These girls bought herbs from Madame Stephanie and brewed some potions, but where did this whole thing go down? Was it in this Quarter of Legends place? Where'd they cook and drink this stuff?"

Janus shot him a look of respect. "Hey, that's a good question! You're really on the ball today, gotta hand it to you."

The boy mumbled a "thanks," trying to play it cool even though he was secretly pleased.

"The thing is," the magician continued, "I can't give you a definitive answer. I haven't exactly dug deep into that part of the story. There could be a bunch of different scenarios. Each girl probably has her own weird tale."

"Like what?" Arthur furrowed his brow, picturing the scene in his head but coming up empty.

Janus, unlike his student, was a master weaver of tales. "Imagine a girl visits the Quarter of Legends in a dream," he began. "Those herbs she buys? Poof! They appear in her real life somehow. Or maybe the beauty brews a potion right there in the wacky Quarter, but forgets the whole thing by morning. Wakes up looking slimmer than ever, everyone thinks she's got some magic metabolism."

Arthur shook his head, then snuck a peek at Stephanie. The witch, still surrounded by a gaggle of young admirers, no longer seemed boring. Now he saw a woman with a quiet strength, a strong will, and yeah, probably a ton of resilience in her past. Definitely a force to be reckoned with, and probably a real looker back in the day.

The sorcerer eyed Stephanie for a moment, too, then broke the silence. "So, how'd you like that first legend, apprentice? Pretty cool story, huh?"

"Yeah, definitely," Arthur agreed, nodding a little too eagerly. "Actually, it kind of makes me want to learn how to brew those magical potions myself!"

Janus's eyes narrowed with amusement. "Really? Well, that can be arranged! Now, I'm no expert myself, but I bet Stefania wouldn't mind showing you the ropes. How about we go ask her?"

Arthur's jaw nearly hit the floor. Visions of exploding cauldrons and questionable herbs danced in his head. "Wait, wait, hold on! I was just kidding!" he blurted out. "Seriously, I didn't mean it..."

Janus, ever the teacher, seized the opportunity for a lesson. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before blurting things out," he said, a touch of ruthlessness in his voice. "My lessons on clear communication haven't quite sunk in. Looks like Stefania will have to take over your education! A few potion-making classes ought to do the trick—learn to think before you speak, that kind of thing."

With that, Janus marched purposefully towards the herbalist, dragging a dejected Arthur behind him.

"This started out so well," Arthur thought glumly. "Seriously, what have I gotten myself into?"

Lesson firmly learned: every word from now on needs to be carefully considered. Stephanie as a teacher is punishment enough.