“Don’t let it touch your skin,” said Tekla
“Why, what will happen if it does?” asked Welgen.
“You don’t want to find out,” came the reply.
The Grand Matron was dying of consumption. The healers had given up, “We’ve exhausted all the known cures. Her fate is now in the hands of the Kindly Ones,” they told the council.
“I will not allow your complacency to take the life of the woman who has saved this forest time and again. I’ll seek out the Alchemist Muzhichik. He will cure her ailment,” snarled Tekla.
The council did not try to stop her fools errand, The Gwelf had been a thorn in their side for far too long. Her death would be welcome.
The woman left the forest early and was at the foot of Mt. Surin by midday. “I will have what I need by nightfall if the Fates allow it,” Tekla said.
“Who comes uninvited? Who wagers their life for a potion or powder?” said the blind sage Muzhichik.
“I am Tekla of the Vanguard Clan. I have come to save the Grand Matron of Folksburywoods,” answered the warrior.
“The wind has spoken of your coming. What you seek sits on the table before you. Be careful not to open it. One drop will peel your flesh to the bone,” the Alchemist said.
“Thank you, is there anything I can do for you?” asked Tekla.
“Give Anya my best wishes and tell her she owes me a dewberry pie when she is feeling up to it,” the old man said.
By dusk, the warrior princess met the village alchemist and handed him the cure.
“Thank you, Tekla, daughter of Vard. I will return to my shop and prepare the tonic. In the morning, I will administer it to the Grand Matron. She will recover within a fortnight,” Welgen said.
When the time was right, Tekla visited Anya and gave her Muzhichik’s message.
“As soon as the fruit is ripe, I will prepare a pie fit for a king,” said the matron.
Tekla smiled to hear the Grand Matron’s words. Anya always followed through with her promises, come hell or high water.
Folksburywoods 
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