In the lower parts of the city, far from the castle, a young woman takes out a paper from her satchel.

"I'd like to place this here." She said holding out the paper to the man sitting beside the wooden post.

By requirement, every city and village had a giant wooden post for people to display their services. From merchants to dancers to apothecaries, this was how they did their jobs. Of course, if one of them was well known throughout the kingdom, there was no need to display a paper on the board.

Sadly, the woman wasn't known enough even though she's been doing this for over four years. When she turned eighteen, she got her license and she couldn't have been any happier. She finally got her dream job. Now if only she was well known.

The man took the paper and read each word.

"An apothecary?" He looked up, his eyes scanning her.

"Yep." The woman nodded.

"You ain't the only 'pothecary that's here. Two others came before you. Think you'll get enough work?"

"I'm sure. Doesn't matter if there's two or twenty. I'm here to make people get better."

The man nodded and took out a hammer and nail from a box on the ground. He stood, found a spot on the board, and began hammering it in.

While he did that, the woman looked at the other papers until she found the ones she was looking for. As the man said, two other apothecaries were here. Crap, she thought bitterly. She was annoyed there was more than one apothecary here. But it was a city and there was bound to be more than one. It couldn't be helped. Still, she was annoyed by it.

"All done." The man sat back down on his chair.

"Thank you." The woman paid him.

On the board, about half a foot from the bottom was her paper.

Rachel Adlehart.

Apothecary.

Staying at Traverse Inn. May wander around.

Cost varies.

Below that was a drawing of herself. It cost extra for the artist to use color, but it was worth it. And he did a pretty good job. He captured her honey-colored hair tied in a low ponytail to her azure eyes.

Not the most impressive advertisement, she knew, but when people needed an apothecary, they didn't care if the paper wasn't flashy. With any luck, a physician would want to buy some of her stuff.

Taking her leave, Rachel made her way to Traverse Inn. After she booked a room (a nice one, she told the innkeeper), she went to the small table in the corner and set down her satchel on it. Her satchel was not only big enough to hold her apothecary guidebook and almanac, it also held her vials, powders, herbs, berries, and other necessities an apothecary needs. It wasn't a cheap satchel, but it was worth it.

Grabbing a chair and setting herself in front of the table, Rachel began working on mixing. By the time she was done making salves, a knock came from the door.

"Excuse me, miss apothecary?"

Rachel went to the door and opened it. Before her stood an old woman shorter than she was.

"Yes, how can I help you?" Rachel asks.

"I need your help. My husband has had this cough and it hasn't gone away. I couldn't find the other apothecaries. Thank goodness I found you. Please, my husband needs your help."

"Of course." Rachel put her supplies back in her satchel. "Lead the way."

The old woman leads them to the slums of the city, Makeshift homes made out of wood and scraps of metal were nestled together like eggs in a carton. Rachel had seen these types of homes in her travels. She knew that the old woman would probably use up most of her savings to get medicine. That's how it is with most poor families.

They stopped at a shanty house next to a vendor selling fruit. As the woman began to unlock the door, coughs could be heard from the thin walls. Upon entering the home, the coughs became louder.

"He's in here." The old woman took Rachel to the back of the house where an old man was lying on a makeshift bed.

Rachel went up to the man and kneeled beside him. He looked at her but before he could say anything, he let out another cough.

"How long has this been going on?" Rachel asked the old woman.

"About three days. I tried to use a home remedy but it didn't work. What little medicine we had I used but it didn't help at all. Do you know what it is?"

When the old man coughed again, Rachel heard the familiar sound of a wet cough.

"Has he spat out any phlegm?" Setting down her satchel, Rachel pulled out three vials containing a red syrupy liquid.

"No, he hasn't."

Rachel didn't need to pull out her guidebook to know what was wrong with the man.

"He's severely congested. Most of his phlegm is back up and has a hard time getting out. This happens sometimes in older people." She handed the old woman the three vials. "Have him drink one every morning after breakfast. It will make him cough but the phlegm will be released."

The old woman took the vials. "Thank you, miss. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't come here." She set aside the vials on a table and reached into the pocket of her trousers. She took out a small sack and Rachel could hear the clatter of coins from inside.

"Please," the old woman trusted the sack, "we don't have much money but this will surely pay for the medicine."

As tempting as it was to accept the money, Rachel couldn't. Just one look around the shanty home showed they needed the money more than she did.

Besides… she'll get triple the amount the old woman wanted to give her. Eventually.

"Thank you, but consider this on the house." Rachel gently pushed back the old woman's hand. "Your husband's health means much more to me than money."

For a moment, the old woman looked surprised before her eyes became misty. "Gods bless you, miss."

Rachel nodded, repeated the directions, and left the house.

When she made it back to the upper part of the city, her stomach growled. She only had a light breakfast before entering the city. A meat pie sounds about good. Or maybe a steak? She had enough money to buy ten steaks. But nothing beats a meat pie.

Finding a small bakery, she placed her order and sat down on one of the tables. It was a small place but big enough to have some tables. With nothing to do but wait, Rachel fiddled with the strap of her satchel.

"Did you hear about the Shield Hero?"

Rachel stopped her fiddling and looked to her left where two merchants sat.

"Yeah. And to think he's our hero! It's like the Gods have cursed us."

Ah. The Shield Hero. Rachel knew about the summoning of the Heroes. It happened a few days ago. She selling her medicine in a village when rumors started going on about the Shield Hero. Apparently, he raped the princess and is now an outcast.

At first, Rachel didn't pay much attention to the rumors. She'd rather hear it from a legitimate source than some gossiping women. Besides, it's not like she's one to judge.

"He's back. For what, who knows."

"I heard he was fighting with those balloon monsters. What a joke."

The men laughed and went back to eating their pies.

A waiter arrived and handed Rachel her pie. She thanked him and began eating. She tried to think of something, but her mind went back to the Shield Hero. She hadn't seen him. And there weren't any drawings of him or the other heroes yet. All she knew was that rumor.

It's not like she didn't want to believe what happened, but she knew how corrupted the king is.

Finishing her pie, Rachel left the bakery and didn't take more than five steps when someone shouted, "You! Apothecary!"

Rachel turned and was faced with a noblewoman. She wore a purple dress adjourned with sequences and a few jewels around her waist. Her golden hair was in a high bun.

From the sound of her voice, she sounded annoyed that she had to come here to the city.

Not my fault you didn't send one of your servants. Is what she would've said but she didn't want to lose a potential client. A rich client at that.

"Yes, how can I help you, madame?" Formality, Rachel had learned, was an important thing to nobles.

"I require your assistance," The Noblewoman said. "My husband caught whatever cough is going on and the other apothecaries are busy. At least you look qualified."

Bitch. "I can assure you, madame, I am qualified. You said your husband has a cough?"

The woman nodded and asked Rachel to follow her. Their destination was a horse-drawn coach. They stepped in and the driver snapped his reigns and the horse went into the direction of the upper part of the city.

Rachel peaked out the window and admired all of the houses. One of these houses cost more than what she could make in a year. Must be nice to be rich.

The coach stopped in front of a gated house and they stepped off. Rachel notices a Demi-human pulling weeds from the garden. A flash of anger coursed through her before it went away.

Inside the house, Rachel took in all of the expensive furniture and paintings. She wasn't taken aback by all of it. You see it once, you've seen it all.

Up the stairs, the woman pushed open a door at the end of the hall. A man was sitting on a chaise at the end of a massive bed. He looked up when they entered.

"Is this an apothecary?" He asked.

"Yes." The woman responded. She then turned to Rachel. "You have medicine, don't you?"

"Yes, madame, I do." Rachel set down her satchel at an end table. She was about to pull out a vial when the man spoke.

"Why don't we get that Demi-human to get some of your herbs and mix them? It can't be that hard to be an apothecary."

Rachel took in all the energy she had not to clench her fist.

"You will not be touching my herbs," the woman said. "I grow them for the cooks. They need them for our meals. Besides, apothecaries just use leaves and grass, don't they?"

That's it.

Rachel put back the vial and pulled out another one.

"Here you are, sir." Rachel gave him the tonic she had given the old man from earlier. "Take this after you have your breakfast tomorrow morning. Your cough should subside."

The man took the vial and peered at the red liquid.

"This will make him feel better?" The woman sounded skeptical. This only made the storm inside Rachel's mind stronger and angrier.

"Yes. Though with this cough going on, make sure he drinks plenty of liquids. And to steer clear of anyone who looks sick."

The woman still didn't sound convinced but nodded. "Thank you. How much will the medicine cost?"

"Ten copper coins."

The woman went to a drawer, pulled out a small coin purse and took out the copper coins.

Rachel took the coins and bid them farewell.

She made her way out of the neighborhood and back to the inn. As angry as she was with the man and woman, she couldn't help but smile.

They'll be back.

Two days later, she was right.

Rachel was busy grounding herbs when a knock interrupted her.

"Apothecary!" It was the noblewoman.

Perfect.

When Rachel answered the door, she put on her best-concerned face.

"Yes? What's wrong?"

"It's my husband. His cough got worse. I told him not to leave the house. But that fool didn't listen to me. Please, hurry!"

Twenty minutes later, they were back in the bedroom. The husband was now in bed, coughing into a handkerchief.

"You said he left the house?" Rachel asked.

"Yes. He had a meeting with a friend of his yesterday and said he was fine. Your tonic worked wonders. But I tried to convince him to stay. But he's stubborn. And look where that got him. You do have more medicine?"

Rachel nodded. "Of course. But…"

The woman looked confused at her hesitation. "But?"

"I do have the medicine to cure your husband. But in order to make it, it requires special ingredients. And because they are hard to get, I must charge more than my regular tonics."

Hook.

"Well... if that's the case." The woman took out her purse from the same drawer. "How much will it cost.

Line.

"It will cost you 35 gold coins."

Without hesitation, the woman gave her the coins.

Sinker.

"Thank you very much. Like the tonic before, make sure he drinks it after his breakfast tomorrow."

After Rachel left, she did a little hop. This was too easy.

Back at her room, Rachel pulled out the gold coins and giggled to herself.

This was something she has been doing the past two years. For the first two years as an apothecary, Rachel was subjected to noble people thinking her work as an apothecary was just mixing grass and leaves. Technically, they were right but it is more than grass and leaves. There is much more to being an apothecary than just mixing grass and leaves.

She loved her job. She took pride in it. So, when someone basically insults her job, they were insulting her. Not to mention there are those out there like the woman who didn't think she was qualified to be an apothecary. She may be young, but she's been studying hard for years to get her license.

One day, after a nobleman said she was slow on making his tonic, she came up with an idea. She added an ingredient to the tonic. A powder that causes the symptoms of whooping cough. Though they didn't get the disease, they just showed signs of it.

She gave the nobleman the tonic and sure enough, she was summoned back to cure him. She then lied by saying the tonic he needed required rare ingredients and that she would have to charge him more. The nobleman didn't care about the cost, he was practically swimming in money. She came in with copper coins and left with fifty gold coins.

She did this whenever she stayed in a city or village. If a nobleman insulted her work, she would repeat the same process. It was how she was able to keep herself afloat.

Did she feel bad about doing it?

Not one bit.

She tucked the gold coins into a coin purse, shouldered her satchel and left the inn.

"I'm in the mood for some steak and wine. And maybe a cake, too."