Chapter 1 The Cure Fallacy: Why Recipes and Cure...
As night fell, Bill, the guard of Helian City, stood at the city gate as usual, fighting off the drowsiness brought on by midnight.
Until a crisp sound pulled him out of his half-awake state.
“I request an audience with His Majesty the King.”
A little girl with light blonde curly hair glared at him impatiently. She was short and held a long, thin, curved wooden staff with a glowing green fluorite at the top. Her gray-green cloak was almost dragging on the ground, with several seeds stuck in it.
Her eyes were the green of a forest, but they looked a little tired.
Bill was willing to bet the girl was no more than sixteen. He leaned down and said in a tone usually reserved for children, "This is no joke, little girl."
Then, realizing what she had said, she covered her mouth and widened her eyes.
"Replace him?" Bill was momentarily confused. "But... I didn't receive any instructions..."
The girl slapped her forehead.
She frantically rummaged through her handbag. Clinking and rattling, several herb bottles, crystals, candles, and tattered drafts fell to the ground.
"Do you need my help?" Bill asked kindly, thinking it was probably just a child's prank.
The girl ignored him and finally pulled out a pair of scissors, making a few cuts in the air between them.
“Found it.” The girl pulled a piece of parchment from a pocket in the air, more wrinkled than the face of a dying old man. “Read it. I mean, please read it.” She added hastily, as if politeness were a patch that could be forgotten at any moment.
Bill's expression changed after reading the words on the parchment. He had no choice but to nod to his companion and let her in.
Ashlin quickly closed her spatial pocket, gathered up the things that had accidentally fallen out, and ran into the castle.
She had never even been to the Helian capital. Sanova and she lived in the Foxtail Bend, a hundred and eight thousand miles away, where the Lord of the Bend's castle was the most magnificent building she had ever seen.
Helian's castle, however, was even more towering and magnificent, as if she were walking at the feet of giants. Under the moonlight, the cylindrical towers proudly atop their rose-gold spires, and a faint silver light shone through the slightly pointed white-rimmed windows, as if a princess might appear at any moment to comb her hair.
Unfortunately, there wasn't time to appreciate the scenery of the royal city.
Ashlin ran into the corridor. The maid led her to a closed door, next to which sat a middle-aged man with a worried expression.
He wore the golden robes of the Deville family, without a crown, his eyes red and tearful, his black hair streaked with silver. Hearing footsteps, he jerked his head up as if grasping something; upon seeing Ashlin, he turned away sadly.
The king, leaning on his cane, sat up and frowned.
"May I have your name?"
The king looked at her with distrust at first, then sighed.
But perhaps too desperate, he merely gave the maid a look. The maid gently pushed open the door.
The room was stiflingly hot, filled with the scents of honey, rosemary, and poppy milk. On the bedside table sat a blood collection cup, bandages, and boiled valerian.
The Queen was lying by the bedside, seemingly just awake; the elderly royal physician was taking notes by the bedside, glancing at Ashlin with suspicion.
"Your Highness's illness appears to be a simple lung disease, but it is actually extremely rare. All medicines are ineffective, and we have no choice but to turn to magic for help. Are you sure you can take the place of the Archmage, young lady?"
“First of all, I’m almost seventeen, not a child anymore,” Ashlin said seriously, hoping that such precise wording would establish some authority. “Secondly, no, I know I can’t. Therefore, I will strictly follow the notes he wrote down himself when performing magic.”
She carefully approached the bedside, drew back the golden velvet curtains, and heard faint breathing.
The young prince lay on the bed like a paper doll, pale-faced, gaunt, with his eyes tightly closed. His medium-length black hair was scattered messily on the pillow, damp with sweat.
He looked so weak that Ashlinn almost thought she was seeing a ghost.
“It’s been two weeks,” the Queen sobbed. “We’ve tried every treatment and remedy, even consulted doctors from the East… but he remains the same. The royal physician says he only has one day left…”
“It’s alright,” Ashlin said confidently, rummaging through her small bag. “I’ve carefully read Mr. Bailey’s notes and know that a very simple spell can solve the problem.”
Everyone waited.
Ashlin's hand reached over the draft paper, grabbed the amethyst, and brushed against the quill pen, but she couldn't touch the familiar kraft paper cover.
When she finally managed to find the notebook, she breathed a sigh of relief and opened it triumphantly.
But then I found it was written in a messy hand:
Sanova Bailey's exclusive dinner recipe!
(This is not for outsiders, except Ashlin.)
The candlelight flickered uneasily, making all eyes feel blinded. Ashlin's palms were sweating profusely, and her stomach suddenly felt like it was filled with caterpillars, writhing and crawling erratically.
Maybe it's just the cover that's wrong. Hoping for the best, she turned to the first page.
Want to know how to make avocado bacon? Haha, the answer is simple! First, top the soft-boiled eggs with sliced avocado, fresh cheese, and bacon...
Ashlin slammed the page shut, startling the Queen so much she almost jumped up.
"What's wrong, darling?"
Before leaving, hadn't she checked it many times? She thought carefully. Yes, she had deliberately taken out Sanova's notebook and placed it in a conspicuous spot, like the long table in front of the kitchen. That way, she definitely wouldn't forget…
Damn it. She definitely hadn't forgotten.
She just took the wrong one.
"Oh my God, oh my God," she muttered to herself, "how could I have taken the wrong notebook?"
"What? You took the wrong one?" the royal physician asked suspiciously. "How could the apprentice of Mr. Bailey, the kingdom's most powerful healing mage, make such a mistake?"
“I’m so sorry, I was just too excited about this trip…” she said, but then realized that this description didn’t quite fit the atmosphere. After all, the prince was on his deathbed, and it was hard to call it “excitement” from any perspective. “Oh no, that’s not what I meant. I’m not excited. I mean, I’m sorry, Your Majesty! And sir!”
She apologized again, completely avoiding eye contact with anyone.
The queen sobbed and almost fainted in her husband's arms.
“Your Majesty, I warned you long ago that magicians are never reliable.” The royal physician stood up. “Now, Miss Bailey, please leave. I can draw blood for His Highness one more time…”
"Space scissors?" the queen asked blankly.
Ashlin covered her face, wishing she could jump out of the window. Today was truly the worst day ever.
"The Space Scissors can only be used once after each spell is cast. I've already used it once, so I can't use it again to retrieve the things I left at home. Only Mr. Bailey can cast the spell on it."
This was the greatest trust Sanova had ever given her, and the trust the entire kingdom had ever placed in her. How could she do this? If the prince were to die, it would all be her fault.
She was practically the kingdom's enemy; she would spend the rest of her life in the dungeon. Sanova would abandon her, the sun god would forsake her, the kingdom would exile her… all because she used the cookbook as a healing notebook.
But if she gives up now, how will she face Sanova in the future?
The protagonists in those fairy tales never give up halfway through their adventures because of mistakes.
Ashlint ruffled her already unruly hair even more and paced back and forth in the room.
Perhaps she should use her own magic. No, she certainly couldn't just randomly cast spells; it might not only hasten the prince's death but also send them both to hell.
She still needs Sanova's notes and her teacher's guidance.
"Is there a copy of Mr. Bailey's notes at the palace?" she asked eagerly.
The royal physician looked at the king, the king looked at the queen, and the queen looked at Ashlin.
“Some of it,” the Queen said hesitantly. “It should be in his study… but he hasn’t been there for many years.”
Where?
Ashlin turned and ran, and the flying green cloak smeared the Queen's face.
Ashlin arrived at the teacher's office door and, as a normal person, pushed the doorknob, but nothing happened. Then she realized she had forgotten to ask for the key.
"Oh, please!" she cried desperately, pushing against the door. "His Highness is about to die!"
A burning anxiety surged within her. Suddenly, the wooden door crumbled into pieces.
This didn't happen often; the last time it happened was when she was bullied by that boy named Hugo. Ashlin didn't have time to think about it; she was about to step over the pile of wooden planks that used to be the door when she tripped over a newly grown branch.
The other planks also began to sway and sprout green shoots.
A refreshing sensation swept through Ashlin's heart; she felt as if she were running freely in a forest, all her power unbound by letters, syllables, and crystals, bursting joyfully from her palm. The door that had once stood there began to grow into a slender, tall oak tree, its dense branches angrily bursting through the building, eliciting a series of screams. Several bricks crashed down, spraying paint dust, which Ashlin narrowly avoided.
This is not what she wanted.
“It’s alright! No need to come!” Ashlind shouted. “It’s Mr. Bailey’s protective magic. I’m his adopted daughter, I’ll go in right away.”
No big problem, at least she could get into the teacher's office. When Ashlin finally found the photocopy of the notes in the mess of a desk, she really wanted to hug him tightly.
She rushed back to the prince's palace, her cloak adorned with twigs and her face covered in dust.
“This time, it’s definitely going to work,” Ashlind assured them, holding up her notebook.
She stood before the sickly prince, opened her notebook to the page with the healing spells, and began to perform the spells one by one, following the teacher's handwriting.
The treatment requires a strong water element, and possibly some earth element as well. Fortunately, she brought a conch shell, salt crystals, and a water glass, which can create a magical atmosphere for these two elements.
She placed the notebook in the flickering candlelight, took a deep breath, raised her staff with both hands, gathered all her magic power, and recited the incantation word by word:
Corpus sāneat fēlem per lumen!
A flash of green light extinguished the candle. In an instant, the pansies beside the prince's bed grew several times their original height, and the chamomile buds that were about to bloom burst into full bloom.
A cool breeze drifted through the bed curtains, prompting a few soft coughs.
"Lucas?" the Queen asked in a very soft voice, "Lucas, are you awake?"
Everyone held their breath, and Ashlinn didn't dare to move at all. The room was so quiet that you could hear a feather falling to the ground.
The prince shifted in bed and opened his azure eyes.
“Mother…” the boy said hoarsely.
The queen wept with joy and embraced her son tightly. The royal physician stepped forward and carefully examined the prince.
“The fever has indeed subsided,” he announced, “and other symptoms have also largely disappeared.”
His Highness looked at Ashlin and smiled gently at her. She sensed something was off; perhaps it was because he looked so weary, that no matter how he smiled, he seemed like a mannequin.
"Miss, did you heal me? I am so grateful."
Ashlin felt a weight lifted from her shoulders. She breathed a sigh of relief and got up to leave, but was stopped by the King and Queen.
"Tomorrow, join us for lunch," the king said with a tearful smile, "as a token of our gratitude... and as a reward for you and your teacher."
He stuffed a bag of money into her hand.
Lin Tong. It's not even enough for a meal.
This was hardly a real reward, but she was already content.
What was she fantasizing about? How could it possibly be a bag of ghouls? That's how wizards are treated in Dias, nothing special. You can't sell herbs too expensively in Foxtail Bend, or the villagers might even accuse you of being a dark wizard.
"We are extremely grateful," the Queen said, wiping away her tears. "Tonight... please stay with him, okay? Just in case he develops any other symptoms..."
“I don’t think so, Mother,” Prince Lucas said gently. “Let this witch rest first. Healing must be very magical, requiring many elements, right?” He looked at the conch shell and salt crystal beside him.
He seemed to know something about magic. Ashlin wasn't sure if members of the royal family practiced magic; as far as she knew, magic wasn't very popular in the kingdom as a whole.
“Oh, I’m not tired at all, Your Highness,” Ashlin quickly said. “Of course I can keep you company.”
Only she and Prince Lucas remained in the room, and for a moment, neither of them knew what to say. It was rare for a witch and a prince to be in the same room.
The silence continued until Lucas broke it.
"If you are tired, you can sit down and rest for a while, Miss Bailey."
Feeling lost, she sat down on the sofa opposite him and quickly sank into it like a puddle of water. The scent of Chandelier and the magic she had just exhausted filled her with drowsiness.
"So what illness do you have, Your Highness?" Ashlin asked curiously, forcing herself to be alert. "The royal physician said it looks like a lung disease, but it's actually very rare."
The prince raised his eyebrows: "I think it really is just a lung ailment; I know very little about medicine. But wasn't it you, Miss Bailey, who cured me?"
“I’m not a therapist; I just recited the incantations from my notes and didn’t know the underlying principles,” she admitted.
His Highness looked at her thoughtfully. "Excuse my bluntness, Miss, but this is probably not a very good habit. Acting rashly without understanding the principles and rules can easily lead to mistakes."
Ashlin shrugged and made a face. Seeing Lucas's surprised expression, she reminded herself: she was in the palace, facing the king's son, not some village child. Making a face at His Highness the prince was probably inappropriate.
"Anyway, I cured you, didn't I?"
Prince Lucas pulled his head back into the curtain.
“Well, it’s getting late, I suggest we all get some rest.” He gave a wry smile. “I’m afraid my father will ask me to review all the lessons I’ve missed tomorrow, which is probably the biggest downside of my recovery.”
“Of course, good night, Your Highness,” Ashlin said absentmindedly, her mind preoccupied with the word “rest.” “I will keep a close eye on… um… your condition.” In reality, she was too sleepy to keep her eyes open.
"Today's task is finally complete," she thought drowsily. "I wonder what the King and Queen will think when they discover the towering tree on the second floor?"
She naturally didn't observe the prince's condition properly at all.
When she woke up, the sun had already risen, and the midday sun warmly bathed the prince's bedroom.
Ashlin immediately sprang up from the sofa and pulled back the prince's bed curtains.
"Come, Your Highness, we can go together..."
She didn't finish saying the word "lunch".
The weak, pale, black-haired boy who had been on the bed earlier had disappeared.
Instead, she was met with a black cat with bristling fur, its blue eyes glaring fiercely at her in an aggressive stance.
A note from the author:
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