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Emmrich could not tell if the sound that came from him was a cough, a sneeze, or a groan. Dabbing at his nose with a handkerchief, the nostrils rubbed raw from so much attention, he collapsed back onto his mountain of pillows with a sigh. Wearing nothing but his smallclothes, his skin simultaneously burned and chilled him. Blankets were strewn about him haphazardly, evidence of tossing them aside as soon as he wore them.
“Manfred,” his voice croaked. Maker, he sounded pathetic. “Is there any tea left?” He asked as the constructed skeleton approached the necromancer’s bedside.
Manfred shook his head. “All gone.”
Emmrich pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger in an attempt to alleviate the pressure in his sinuses. “A healing potion will do just fine, then.”
The skeleton once again shook his skull in the negative. “All gone, too.”
“What?” Emmrich was aghast. “I just counted the vials the other day! The inventory was fully stocked. Have we truly gone through them since?” He swallowed, his throat dry and sore. “I must remind the team to exercise caution. In that case, I must mix more tinctures.” With a groan, he eased himself off of his bed, a blanket hanging onto his shoulders, and ambled to his cabinet. The blanket dragged behind him. Opening the door, he took stock of his herbs, solvates, and other arcane ingredients.
He counted the ingredients necessary for the healing elixir. “There’s the analgesic reagent, the neuropathic salve, the rehabilitation solvent…oh, but where is the…” his voice trailed off as he opened every inner drawer. “We are out of ground ginger,” his voice elongated the last syllable in an exasperated whine.
“Manfred, would you be so kind as to ask Harding if she has any ground ginger? If she does not, please ask Lucanis.”
The skeleton hissed in agreement and left the necromancer’s quarters, shutting the door behind him as Emmrich returned to his bed, collapsing amongst his pillows in a feverish heap.
~*~*~
Emmrich’s attention turned to the door as Manfred entered, empty-handed. “I take it no one has ground ginger?”
Manfred held out his phalanges. “Nothing. All sick.”
This gave Emmrich pause. “The whole team is sick?”
“Everyone,” Manfred hissed. “Even mom.”
“Oh,” he groaned, placing his head back on the pillow, draping a forearm across his forehead. After a moment, he composed himself and looked back at his companion. “Manfred, I must ask that you run an errand: please go to Minrathous and purchase enough ground ginger for a single batch of healing potions. Take my coin purse by the door. Will you be alright by yourself?”
“I go!” Manfred said enthusiastically.
“Do be careful!” Emmrich called out in a weak voice, inspiring a coughing fit, but Manfred was already headed toward the Eluvian, coin purse in hand.
~*~*~
Ground ginger acquired, Manfred made his way through the busy streets of Minrathous, in the direction of the Eluvian that would take him home, when a conversation at a nearby merchant stall caught his attention.
“But how do we know if the crystals have been charged?” A young apprentice asked the merchant next to him, holding a chunk of quartz the size of his thumb.
The merchant gave a small chuckle and leaned toward the apprentice after making sure no one was nearby to overhear, paying no mind to the skeletal construct across the way. “That’s the thing, dear lad; you don’t. You just give the customer the rock they point to and be sure to properly count the coin they give you in return. I don’t even know if half of these rocks are even real crystal. I just know they’re real pretty, and make us a pretty penny.”
“Isn’t that false advertising?” The apprentice tilted his head.
The merchant laughed mockingly. “It’s only false advertising if we outright say they’re charged, or real. It’s completely legitimate when these naïve mages assume that what they see at face-value is the real thing.”
Crystals…not real? Manfred thought to himself. He had to bring the ground ginger back to the Lighthouse, but he couldn’t stand by and do nothing if innocent people were being tricked.
What would dad do? He thought about the time Emmrich encountered a similar scenario, in which he hexed the merchant selling fake charms until the seller saw the error of his ways.
Dunno hexes.
What would mom do? He remembered the handful of times he watched Lily jump into battle, stave ablaze.
Fire.
~*~*~
The healing potions were mixed, properly enchanted, and dispersed to all inhabitants of the Lighthouse. Once his dose kicked in, Emmrich bathed and washed all remnants of feverish sweat from his skin and hair. He had just finished putting on a fresh set of clothes when a knock sounded from his door.
“Come in,” Emmrich said in a loud but welcoming tone. “Ah, Neve! A delight, as always.”
“Hello, Emmrich,” the detective walked in and leaned against his desk. “Thanks for the healing potion. Things were quite miserable at the start.”
“Oh, it was nothing. Manfred was a great help to me, fetching the ground ginger from Minrathous.”
Neve gave a small smirk. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to speak about –”
She was interrupted by another knock on Emmrich’s door. “Enter,” Emmrich called out.
“Hey, you,” Lily said, entering with Manfred in tow. “Hey, Neve!”
“Hello, darling,” he said with a relieved sigh. “Are you feeling better?”
Lily nodded. “Much better!” She slid next to Neve, joining her in leaning against Emmrich’s desk. “What’re we doing?”
“Glad to hear of it. Neve was just about to tell me something about Minrathous,” he said, turning back to the detective. “Please, do continue.”
“I’ve received a report from the Shadow Dragons; it seems that a merchant stall caught fire shortly after a skeletal construct was seen in the area.” She gave a sideways glance to Manfred. “Would you happen to know anything about this, Fred?”
The skeleton looked at each mage in turn before attempting to casually walk away.
Lily reached out and touched his humerus. “C’mon, Manfred, is there something we should know?”
Manfred stared at the floor, shy and sheepish. “Fake crystals. Dunno hexes. Fire, like mom!”
Neve chuckled into her hand as Emmrich turned to Lily.
“You’ve certainly become quite an influence on our skeletal son,” he said.
Lily blushed with a grin at once proud and strained. “Proud of you, Manfred…but maybe come to us first before you consider arson.”
Manfred responded with only a wide smile in return, while Emmrich hid his own smile behind his hand with a sigh of resignation.