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Chapter 5 - The Scroll,the Medicine,and Renewal

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Chapter 2: The Misty Valley

Part 3 – The Scroll, the Medicine, and Renewal

Linn led me into the manor with steady steps, her emerald robes swishing softly against the polished wooden floors. Servants bowed as we passed, their voices carrying gentle greetings, though I noticed their eyes lingered on me with an odd mixture of curiosity and deference. For the first time, I wasn't just a fragile child hidden behind my father's shadow. Here, in this valley, I seemed to hold… significance.

We entered a high-ceilinged chamber, its walls lined with shelves that brimmed with scrolls, jade slips, and bound records. A brazier burned quietly in the corner, filling the air with the scent of sandalwood. The room hummed with a restrained energy, as though each scroll housed a secret waiting to be awakened.

Linn stopped before a long table where a single scroll rested, its surface dull and dark, faint traces of black runes etched across it. She gestured for me to sit.

"This, my lady," she said, her tone formal but laced with warmth, "is no ordinary parchment. It is a landscape scroll, tied to the very breath of the Misty Valley itself. Only you and Lord Haines can awaken it."

I stared at the object, my pulse quickening. A part of me feared I would touch it and—like every other resource my body had consumed—its power would vanish into emptiness, wasted. My stomach tightened with doubt.

Linn must have noticed the hesitation, for she smiled gently and took my right hand. "Do not fear, my lady. This scroll does not ask to be consumed. It only asks to recognize you."

Before I could protest, she guided my hand forward, placing my index finger at the scroll's center.

The instant my skin met the parchment, a ripple surged outward. Black runes stirred like awakened serpents, writhing and spreading across the surface. For a heartbeat, I panicked—my breath hitched, afraid that I had triggered some terrible backlash. But then, the runes dissolved, fading as if swallowed by the air, and in their wake, an image blossomed.

The dull parchment unfurled into life. Mountains etched themselves into being, rivers coursed through valleys, and vast fields stretched endlessly. The map expanded, alive with faint light, until the entirety of the Misty Valley sprawled across the table.

I gasped.

It was enormous. The valley stretched farther than I had ever imagined—fifty thousand hectares of plains, forests, and rivers. Each stable, each pasture, every hidden grove and bend of stream shimmered upon the map. The territory felt infinite, too vast for me to truly comprehend.

I whispered, barely audible even to myself, "This… all of this…"

"It belongs to you and your father," Linn said, her voice steady but tinged with reverence. "No one else may command the Wooden-Horse Manor."

Her words struck like a hammer against the fragile glass of my self-doubt. Me? A girl who had never managed to hold a single wisp of Origin Chi within her body? Me, who had drained every essence fruit, every beast core, every painstaking resource Father had offered, only to return nothing but disappointment?

And yet, here was a scroll that recognized me. Here was land—living, breathing land—that seemed to acknowledge my presence.

I pressed my palm against my chest, trying to calm the storm rising inside. A strange warmth pulsed faintly in my veins, not power, not cultivation, but something else. A recognition, perhaps. A promise.

But the awe soon gave way to a sharp ache behind my eyes. The map blurred, the chamber's lanternlight swayed unnaturally, and my temples throbbed. I winced, instinctively lifting a hand to my head.

"Linn… a headache," I murmured.

Her eyes widened slightly. "Ah! Forgive me, my lady—I forgot entirely!" She hurried to a side cabinet, her movements brisk but practiced. When she returned, her arms were stacked with small porcelain bowls filled with steaming liquid.

Without hesitation, she set the first one before me. "Drink. It will ease the strain."

The smell hit me before the rim touched my lips—sharp, bitter, earthy, with a hint of iron. I braced myself and swallowed. The liquid slithered down my throat, thick and slimy, clinging unpleasantly as it went. My stomach twisted in protest, my tongue recoiling at the taste.

I gagged, almost pushing the bowl away, but Linn's steady gaze anchored me.

"I know it is foul, my lady," she said gently, "but to spit it out would worsen your condition. Endure."

So I endured. Bowl after bowl, I forced the concoction down. Each mouthful was worse than the last, and yet… slowly, the pounding in my head dulled. The world steadied. By the final bowl, my lips were stained dark, my throat raw, but relief swept through me like cool rain after fire.

I slumped back against the chair, exhaling deeply.

Linn smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "Better."

She didn't give me time to argue. With practiced efficiency, she ushered me toward a side chamber where steaming water filled a polished stone bath. The air was scented faintly with crushed herbs, and as I sank into the warmth, I felt the grime of travel and the heaviness of fatigue peel away from me.

For a few moments, I closed my eyes, letting the silence embrace me. The water seeped into my skin, calming the tremors of exhaustion, and I thought… maybe this was what rebirth felt like.

When I emerged, Linn was ready with garments laid neatly upon a lacquered stand. First, she draped me in a soft white linen dress, the fabric light and airy against my skin. Over it, she placed a long green coatcloth embroidered with delicate brown leafy designs, the patterns flowing like vines wrapping around me.

I stared at my reflection in a polished bronze mirror. For so long, I had seen myself only as frail, pale, shadowed by sickness and weakness. But now… clothed in the manor's attire, my hair brushed smooth, the faintest trace of color blooming on my cheeks from the bath, I looked almost—dare I say—dignified.

Not strong. Not yet. But no longer broken either.

Linn clasped her hands, her expression one of satisfaction. "Yes. This suits you, my lady."

I lowered my gaze, embarrassed by the flicker of pride warming my chest. "It feels… different."

"It is a beginning," she replied. "And beginnings matter."

When we stepped out once more into the open courtyards, the workers we passed greeted me with respectful bows. Their eyes carried no disdain, no mockery. Only recognition. I held my head a little higher, though my steps remained measured.

Linn led me through the manor grounds, her voice flowing with explanations. She showed me the stables, row upon row stretching into the mist, each sheltering Wind Chasing Horses of various sizes and stages of growth. The sound of their breathing was like the wind itself, steady and powerful, and when they stamped their hooves, the earth seemed to shiver.

Beyond the stables, the plains stretched, glimmering faintly beneath the fading light. And there, for the first time, I noticed something peculiar.

Each blade of grass shimmered with a faint mist clinging to its tips, as though kissed by morning dew even though the sun had long set.

"Linn," I asked softly, "the pasture here… it looks different. This isn't ordinary grass, is it?"

Her eyes lit up with approval. "No, my lady. The differences are as stark as night and day. This is spirit grass, a rare essence herb found only in this country. The Misty Valley draws its name from the phenomenon you see—the mist formed by the breath of these grasses."

I bent down, brushing my fingers just above the tips, though not daring to touch. The air was cool, carrying a faint crispness that tingled against my skin.

"The spirit grass harnesses the cold energy of the Heaven and Earth winds," Linn continued, "to produce the Misty Essence Fruit—the very fruit the Wind Chasing Horses crave above all else. It is what makes them what they are."

I gazed across the endless plains, the mist weaving like ribbons, the horses grazing with unearthly grace. A thought took root in my mind, fragile but insistent.

Perhaps… the valley is not just a place to heal. Perhaps it is the key to unlocking the truth of my bloodline.

The mist curled around my feet as if to answer, cool and quiet.

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