No Matter What

Chapter III

"Now, what I will ask of you is a big, difficult task," said the medic.

"If it were easy, everyone would do it," I responded.

"You must be extremely certain you want to do it or you will give up before it ends."

"I told you! No. Matter. What. I will save my mother."

"It will involve dark magic," he said.

He looked at me, then looked through his bag. He took out a piece of paper and started giving it to me, but took it back. I looked at him with all the firmness I could summon and nodded. He finally handed me the piece of paper. It was old and wrinkled; it looked like it had been ripped out of a book. Something had been crossed out near the end.

"What did that say?" I asked, pointing to the scribbled out text.

He ignored my question, "I do not have any of the ingredients. I never thought I would find anyone worthy of utilizing this potion. Your task is to find them and bring the ingredients to me. That way, we can save your dear mother."

"I can do that," I said, "but—moon water, mystical mushroom... Some of these ingredients are days away! How do I get them back before... you know...?"

"Before your mother is gone," he said what I could not.

"That's where the potion I gave to her today comes in," he continued, "it slows down the, um, process. You have two weeks until she becomes... much worse."

I swallowed a painful gulp.

"Alright," I said, "I leave today."

The medic smiled then looked in his bag again. He took out a few items and named them as he put them down, "Map, bag, yellow fairy dust."

"Fairy dust?" I asked, surprised, "You have a pouch of fairy dust?"

"Yellow fairy dust. It is the most common and least expensive. The powder from their wings makes it possible for even us, humans, to perform astonishing things."

He poured some dust on his hand. It glowed a luminous yellow. He picked up a piece of wood my mother and I had not used to set up our fig booth. With ease, he snapped it in half as you would a twig. My mouth was wide open.

"Not only does it give you incredible strength," he said, "it allows you to execute magic, even if you are not magical. That is why we need it to make potions work. For potions that require more power, like this one," he pointed to the paper I held, "we need powder from the wings of the most powerful one of all, the green fairy."

I was amazed by the wisdom this medic possessed.

"Using magic is a tricky thing. It is directly linked to your emotions. If you are not in control of your emotions, you cannot control the magic. If you manage to be in control, whatever you imagine shall come true, of course, with a few exceptions.

"Out of nowhere comes nothing. You must have what it takes to do what you want. Usually, that means energy. So you must have enough of it to accomplish what you want, yes?"

"Yes," I replied, "I understand."

"Also, yellow magic won't allow you to do anything illegal."

"Got it."

He unrolled the map.

"A map of our realm," he said.

I stared at it for a while. Some ingredients were obvious. Teribo hair, Teribo Town; Moon water, Moon river; green fairy dust, Fairyland; Mystical Mushroom, probably in the Enchanted Woods. But I had no idea where I would find the rest! Mermaid scales? A crystal flask? A rose, no, three roses, each a different strange color?

"Do you know where the ingredients are?" I asked.

He replied, "Most of them, yes. But ingredients move around. The ones I found in certain places ages ago are probably elsewhere now."

I looked at the brown bag.

"I have my own bags, you know."

"This bag is special."

"How so?"

"It is like mine."

"And?"

He turned to his bag, put his hand deep inside, and took out a long broom.

"Wait," I reacted, "What—how... What?"

"It holds an infinite amount of things of infinite sizes. This way you can have everything you might need."

"Why would you need a broom?"

"I said everything you might need, did I not?" He threw the broom into the bag and it disappeared.

"Alright," I said, "Now what?"

"Now you pack."

"Right. Right. I am doing this. I am really doing this."

I separated food. Some for me, some for my mother. The medic was to stay and care for her while I went on my journey. I looked under my mother's bed. There it was. I pulled the box out and opened it. Gold coins. I poured them into the infinite bag. I filled a big flask with the water I had collected two days ago. The bag swallowed it whole. It was not any heavier. The wonders of magic.

Two weeks. I could do two weeks. I would walk fast, sleep as little as I could, and I would come back to save my mother.

Someone was at the gates. I went out to see who it was.

"Arthur," I thought out loud, "Oh no."

***

"You plan on doing WHAT?" Arthur exclaimed.

"It will only be two weeks, Arthur. Just enough for me to get the ingredients for the—" I looked at the medic, "Uh—medicine."

"How do I know you'll be back in time? How do I know you won't—" he paused, "You won't go before she does?"

I sighed.

"I'm going with you," he decided.

"No," I said as he went to the kitchen for a bag and started packing food, "No. Arthur, no. You are not going. Arthur? Arthur!"

He looked at me.

"I need you here. I need you to take care of her." We turned to my mother who slept soundly. She looked so fragile...

"Fine," Arthur finally subsided, "but if at any time I suspect anything is wrong... If at any time you are in danger, I am coming for you."

I agreed.

I left that night while he slept. I knew saying goodbye would be too difficult. I put my bag over my right shoulder, hanging behind me.

I walked past the birds and the trees with the poisonous fruit. I walked over Great-hood hill and almost slipped on the way down. I looked at the lifeless town center; abandoned booths all around. There was trash and crushed fruit on the ground from the festival we missed. How I wished my mom had been well and we had sold figs today.

I walked past the cathedral with the morning bells. I steadily walked across the bridge. The Gray stream, known for its gray pebbles, flowed under me. I touched my necklace. I had reached the gates.

I cracked open the colossal wooden doors, the same brown wood of the serpent trees my village was full of. I walked outside the village boundaries, my eyes accumulated tears. I looked back at my childhood home. I had never gone as far as past the cathedral before.

I sighed and turned around and, this time, I did not look back.