Sustainer’s Smile Chapter 1

Oof! Liliora braced herself against the stone building as a solid body collided suddenly with hers. With one hand, she steadied the basket she held, and the other in­stinc­tively sought her stomach.

The brown-cloaked figure straightened, backing away, his head furtively darting back and forth. It was a boy—only a child.

Liliora rubbed her abdomen where his elbow had landed. His skidding around the corner certainly hadn’t done her middle any favors—not that her middle had been cooperating recently anyway. She’d been meaning to do something about these sharp pains.

Shifting the basket to her other arm, she stepped back from the wall as the boy edged towards it. He was whispering now. Liliora made out the murmured word.

“Help.” 

“Do you need something?” She glanced beyond to see if anyone had been following him. “Can I help?”

Startled, his brown eyes met her blue ones for the briefest instant before he vanished back around the cor­ner as quickly as he’d come.

“Strange.” Liliora readjusted the basket and stepped towards the road, pausing with a gasp as the shooting pain gripped her side once more. She needed to get this bread home quickly. Thankfully the Jaelrvens had plenty to spare this week—Mrs. Jaelrven’s small bakery was finally flourishing—so Liliora at least didn’t have to fuss with baking over the fire at home today.

Back in the log-encased living quarters, she thudded the basket down before collapsing onto a chair. “I really need to do something about this. It isn’t getting any bet­ter.”

“About what?” Father’s slate-colored head rose from the couch in the corner. 

“Just my stomach. Pains haven’t gone.” Liliora gritted her teeth. 

“You ought to tend to them, child.” Father’s sigh could be heard clear across the room.

“I know; I will. I have one more errand this morn­ing, then I’ll see what I can do. You know we have to pick up the pepper seeds now before it’s too late, and the Mercantile in town has them just in. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“You sure you can manage?” Kethin poked his head in, an axe swinging gently from his hand and sawdust clinging to his shirt. “I could do it once I finish this wood.”

“No, I’ll manage.” Liliora sucked in a breath. “This is nothing I haven’t handled before. Just see about the noon meal please, would you?”

“Of course.” Kethin disappeared, and the door thumped behind him.

Liliora leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes for a brief moment. If only she could relax…why did these pains insist on intruding at the worst times? Again she vainly scanned her memory: she hadn’t eaten any­thing unusual; she hadn’t exerted herself; she hadn’t been exposed to new smells; her bodily health and functions otherwise remained normal… What could have brought this on? Was something seriously wrong with her? 

Sighing, she rose and quietly slipped out the door. She might as well get this errand over with.

Business bustled more than usual at the Frydael Mercantile as she stepped inside. At the counter, several women chattered merrily about their gardens. Various neigh­bors from the village surveyed the Mercantile’s lat­est stock from the capital city of Syorien. Chickens squawked from cages somewhere out back, and sunlight played across the boarded floors from the A-shaped windows. Behind the counter, Mr. Raeson touched his heart as she entered.

All this she saw in a moment, then focused her gaze upon the pepper seeds at the end of the counter. After removing a small wooden bowl from her pocket, she shook some of the seeds into it, then wordlessly drew up to the counter to pay Mr. Raeson. 

“This be all for you today, Lili?” he asked, setting down the figures on his ledger.

“Yes, please,” she replied almost mechanically. “That is, no.” She pulled herself up, searching the store with her eyes. “One moment.”

Leaving the seeds on the counter, she darted to the medicinal wall. “RELIEF,” one packet proclaimed. “All manner of remedies,” another said. She scanned the rest of the labels: nothing specific, all general. Sighing, she selected three that seemed the most promising and car­ried them to the counter. “Yes, this will be all.” 

She suppressed another sigh and set down the pay­ment. Usually she enjoyed chatting with the townsfolk when she visited, but today every little thing seemed to affect her stomach. His beard—why did he leave it so unkempt? And the floor behind the counter—had it been swept this month? A crust of bread floated in the dusty corner, accompanied by clear signs that a mouse had been at work there. 

Liliora drew her eyes upward—anywhere, every­where but there. She automatically scanned the post board on the wall: announcements of town gatherings, public notices, news clippings from Syorien, the usual. The post board changed less often than Liliora came to town. 

A bright-yellow placard stuck squarely in the corner caught her attention. “Cures for ills and ailments, pains of stomach, troubles, disagreements, intruders, para­sites, unwellness, burdens weighing on your physical being: come visit Madame Togni for complete, simple, and quick relief. Healing for strange indispositions.”

Pains of stomach. The words stood out to Liliora as though written in letters of fire. Could this be what she needed? Could this Madame Togni be a physician who could finally pinpoint the cause of her ailments? 

Liliora sighed again. Who could be trusted these days? Nothing was as it appeared; everyone sought their own pleasure. Living in Frydael for all of her twenty-four years was a blessing: she knew and trusted her neighbors, and they knew and trusted her. Outside of her small social circle, the country beyond teemed with liars, de­ceivers, and criminals who would stop at nothing to further their own pleasures. And Madame Togni wasn’t a name she’d heard before.

“Adon Olam,” she whispered. “You must guide me. Heal me. Cause me to know what to do, whom to trust, what to decide…I just want to get rid of these pains. If this Madame Togni is who I need, lead me to her.”

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