The Elven Antidote

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The ride back to the mansion was filled with a charged silence. It was a light morning with glaring sunlight and glaring townsfolk who murmured among themselves as we rode through town. Oleander and Endris hadn't spoken with each other since their argument in the hills. Oleander dipped his head, seemingly very aware that he had done something wrong. Endris grumbled like an upset father or older brother, sour and disappointed in Oleander's poor decisions.

I had other worries. Like how in the thunder god's name was I going to tell my parents and siblings that Ytel had screwed me over? That I had blindly stepped into the trap he'd been orchestrating ever since he'd volunteered to accompany me to the Serpentine mountains? He had ensured he'd be the first to know whether I'd succeeded or failed, and that information served him well now.

While Ytel and I had travelled together, I'd been a little preoccupied with my upcoming battle with a dragon. Shame on me for being passionate about not ending up as ashes scattered across the peaks of Mount Serpentine, or dragon dung. After that, I'd found Oleander and my full attention had shifted to not getting him killed. I wasn't exactly looking for conspiracy plots in the mountains, but my family wouldn't accept that excuse. Conspiracies were everywhere, and I had to see them. I should have seen Ytel scheming, not have my gaze misdirected at a scared elf who wasn't a threat and had only tried to help. As misguided as his help was.

When we arrived at the cliffs and approached the stables behind the mansion by foot, Oleander turned to me. "Lord Montbow, may I speak with you in private before we go inside, please?" he asked softly.

I glanced at Endris. He shot me a blank stare. Then he reached out, snatched my horse's reins from my hands without a word, and started walking towards the stables alone.

"Do you really need to speak with me now?" I asked Oleander, gesturing at my home. "In case you didn't realise, we have a serious problem on our hands and I need to warn my parents about Ytel's men."

"Yes," Oleander replied. "I'm sorry for taking up your time, but what I want to say is related to Ytel's men."

Oleander glided to the walls of the mansion and gingerly brushed his fingers against the climbing plants growing in the cracks between stones. "Yesterday, I noticed a rare flower blooming on the walls of the mansion. If you look closely, there are little specks of yellow woven into the green of the Ocove vines. These flowers only show if the plant is healthy and old. It thrives in briny sea air."

"Huh." I squinted at the twisting vines, and sure enough, after a few moments, I saw the little specks of yellow Oleander spoke about. I had never bothered learning the plant's name. It'd always just been an eyesore to me, like the cracked clay roof tiles and moss.

"In combination with a few other herbs I have found," Oleander continued, unclasping his bag and folding it open to showing me the plants he'd gathered, "And, counterintuitively, a small drop of the poison itself, they will form an antidote to Bleeding Ivy that would likely be of use to people in town. I wanted to prepare it and sell it in Wildewall where people surely have the coin if the queen's court is there."

I shook my head at Oleander's story. My stomach tightened at the thought of him traveling to Wildewall on his own. "Now, wait a moment," I said. "Last time I checked, nobody had ever found a cure for the Bleeding Ivy's sting—all you can do is wait it out and hope you live. And traveling to Wildewall? That would be an insanely risky journey for you. Look at what happened on the hills! Let alone if you try to venture off on your own to the queen's court!"

"Yes, I know that now." Oleander raised his hand to touch the scratch on his face. "I hadn't realised how much you and Endris had been protecting me during our journey here. Even stepping outside alone is dangerous."

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