A Healer's Journey: Isaac's Talisman: The Medicine Bowl

- 16 Years Ago -

 

I begin each morning with meditation. Most days it comes to me as naturally as breathing, but this morning I have to sweep away all my thoughts again and again like taking a broom to the cobwebs in the attic. Excitement and nerves both want my attention today.

 

I hear my bedroom door creeeeeeaaaaak open, and I raise an eyebrow just before I hear quick, soft footsteps spring across the floor. I recognize them, of course, and within moments my younger sister tackles me, flinging her arms around me and hitting me with all of her weight.

 

“Naomi, wait!” I warn through my laughter, but it’s too late. We topple over on the floor, and I see that my sister is laughing through tears. I wipe them away. “What are you on about, you silly thing?”

 

She manages a soggy smile. “I’m so happy for you, but I don’t want you to leave.”

 

I pull her into a hug. “Today is just graduation. I’m not leaving for a few days yet, and it’s not forever. I’ll be back for a visit in just a month or two.”

 

“I know, I know. It will still be different, though.”

 

“I’ll miss you, too, you know. But I’ll write to you twice a week, I promise. I should be staying at the Parchment Imp Inn almost the entire time. If I get accepted into the Guild, I won’t go on a single adventure until I come home and celebrate with you, okay?”

 

She kisses my cheek, and I hug her just a little tighter. It’s no secret that Naomi has always looked up to me, and I’m so proud of the young woman she’s becoming. I don’t want her to know that I’m feeling a little choked up as well. Today is a celebration.

 

“Ma wanted me to bring you downstairs,” Naomi says finally. “Breakfast is ready.”

 

I grin and push myself to my feet. I offer her a hand and pull her up. She’s light and nimble on the stairs while I sound so much heavier. Our father meets us at the final step and claps a hand on my shoulder. He’s smiling ear to ear.

 

“Here’s our university graduate!” He exclaims. “Ready for your big day?”

 

I grin. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

 

“Good to hear it!” He says. He follows Naomi and I into the kitchen, and I realize that my favorite breakfast is waiting: smoked fish and scrambled eggs on toast with fresh melon on the side.

 

My mother has just finished setting the table. She offers me a smile as bright as the sun and says, “Good morning, dear. I suppose my days of calling you my little man are over, aren’t they?”

 

“They’ve been long over, Ma, but you’ll never hear me complain. This looks - and smells - amazing! I’m sorry I wasn’t down earlier to help. Need a hand?”

 

“Oh, not today. Sit. Eat up before it gets cold.”

 

I do as I’m told, taking a seat next to Naomi, and I just barely catch my parents sharing some sort of tender expression from the corner of my eye. Ma joins us at the table, but Dad is a few moments behind. I see that he’s carrying a brightly-wrapped box. Naomi is watching intently and begins to clap her hands.

 

“Now what’s this?” I ask as he places the box in my hands. It’s lighter than I expect and a little wider than it is tall.

 

“It’s just a little something to take with you,” My mother says.

 

“Don’t be so modest,” Dad says gently. “Your Ma and Naomi have been working on it for over a month now.”

 

“You helped, too,” Naomi reminds him.

 

He smiles and relents. “Yes, I helped, too.”

 

I carefully peel back the paper and settle the box on the table. The lid simply lifts off, and I set it aside. I reach in and grasp something cool and smooth to the touch: a wooden bowl. I admire it in the light. The wood is dark and sanded perfectly, and the rim and sides are decorated in colorful designs of crushed stone inlay.

 

As I examine it closely, I see that the patterns represent the flowing, glinting nature of water, an elemental affinity that I’ve inherited from my mother’s family. Turquoise, blue, and green stones mixed with bits of shell invoke a sense of freshness and serenity. I can almost see the sunshine reflecting off a pool of water. I trace the designs with my finger.

 

“This is beautiful. Thank you so much,” I say.

 

“You’ll need your own bowl for mixing your medicines and curatives when you travel,” Ma explains.

 

“Now you’ll think of us whenever you use it,” Naomi says proudly.

 

“I definitely will.” I pat her shoulder and she beams at me. “I’ll take good care of it.”

 

“Then it will take good care of your patients,” Ma says.

 

I keep it next to me as we eat, and after breakfast, I set it on the dresser in my bedroom. I keep admiring it throughout the day, and I’m eager to pack it with the rest of my supplies.

 

 

- The Present -

 

I select the ingredients carefully: a spoonful of cactus spirali nectar, a pinch of dandelion wax, and a splash of swamp salamander mucus. Crushed vermillion aster acts as a sterilizing agent. I add a few milliliters of Aridin Rainwater to the concoction and hold my hand over the bowl. As I move my fingers in the air, the liquids swirl and mix. 

 

My patient - a very young elf - watches mesmerized from her mother’s arms.

 

“Your bowl is so pretty!” She says.

 

I smile at her. “Thank you. My parents and my sister made it for me together. They gave it to me the morning that I graduated from the Healer’s Path at university.”

 

I carry the bowl and the salve it contains to her, fetching fresh cloth for a bandage along the way. I pull a wooden stool close to the bench she and her mother are perched on and sit facing them.

 

I hold the bowl out to her. “Would you like to see?”

 

She nods eagerly, and I help her hold it. I watch joy spread over her face as her eyes dance along the graceful pattern.

 

“It makes me happy to look at,” she tells me.

 

My smile widens. “Me, too. It’s been many years since I received it, and I still feel happy every time. Let’s get you fixed up, okay?”

 

She nods. I gently take the bowl back. She presents her arm which has a patch of puffy, red skin caused by the caustic sap of a local plant. I’ve cleaned away all the sap, but the salve will help soothe the inflammation and heal the skin.

 

“Will it hurt?” She asks me in a small voice.

 

“Not even a little. I promise.”

 

She nods bravely and scrunches up her face as I apply a heaping spoonful of the curative to her wounds. She makes a little meep! noise but then realizes that the medicine is cool and completely pain free. I dress her wound in clean gauze cloth.

 

“There we go. How does that feel?” I ask.

 

“Better!”  

 

“Good!” I look at her mother. “I’ll send this medicine along with you. Leave this on for the rest of the night. Starting tomorrow, clean the wound and apply the salve once in the morning and again in the evening, alright? The skin should be good as new in three or four days. If it worsens, come back to me. I’ll be here another week at least.”

 

The elven woman sighs in relief. “Thank you so much! What do I owe you?”

 

“Ten gold will do fine.”

 

“So little?” She asks, noticeably surprised.

 

“Reimbursement for materials helps to keep me stocked up and ready for whatever comes next, but otherwise, all my needs are met.”

 

She nods and hands me a few coins. I package up the salve and hold the medicine bowl in my hands as I watch my little patient and her mother make their way up the path to the town proper. I run my fingers over the smooth sides and think of home, just as I do every time.