The Luckiest Night, Part 2

Kalle sputtered, straightening his shoulders. “Do not speak to–” He abruptly remembered he wore no crown in the healer’s shack. His fingers grazed his short hair. “Sorry,” he mumbled...

ICYMI: Part 1

The healer’s hut was as unbalanced inside as out. Kalle surveyed the hanging bundles of herbs and shelves stacked topsy-turvy with potions and powders. Master Tuenne ordered Kalle to help sort the basket of plants. He scowled, but did as instructed, joining the girl at a small table.

“I am Prin– uh, Kalle,” he stated, bowing to her stiffly.

“Prinakal? That’s an interesting name,” she said. “My name is Lisse.”

Kalle’s cheeks burned. Maintaining the False Face was going to be difficult. “It’s just Kalle.”

She already had several bunches of herbs laid out on the table. He followed her lead, noting the white flowers emitted a pungent aroma. His nose twitched, and before he could stop it, he launched into a series of explosive sneezes that blasted the delicate plants across the room.

“Oh!” Startled at the outburst, Lisse gaped at Kalle. “Are you always this clumsy?”

Kalle sputtered, straightening his shoulders. “Do not speak to–” He abruptly remembered he wore no crown in the healer’s shack. His fingers grazed his short hair. “Sorry,” he mumbled, bending to pick up the mess.

The rest of the day continued in much the same fashion. Master Tuenne would set a task, which Lisse took to immediately, while Kalle fumbled. Finally, the old healer put Kalle to dusting the shelves.

Kalle thought he heard a giggle from Lisse, but when he turned his attention to her, she looked away. He angled toward her table, so he could watch for any further signs of disrespect. Her hands, he noted, were confident and graceful as they danced among the herbs.

His own hands, hesitant and ungainly, knocked half the vials to the floor. Lisse snorted, laughing out loud. Master Tuenne scowled and shook her head. Kalle thought perhaps he should simply abandon this destiny and slink back to the palace. If only he could find it.

***

Hours later, Kalle yawned. The twin moons had only just appeared in the evening sky, but he was ready for sleep. His feet ached and itchy patches had formed on his hands. Before Master Tuenne left for the night, she showed the apprentices to a tiny room in the back of the shop.

Two cots, separated by a rickety bamboo screen, awaited. “Does she mean for us to share this space?” Kalle sniffed.

Lisse rolled her eyes. “We’re apprentices, not royalty. Stay on your side.”

She claimed the cot on the left and arranged her quilted blanket.

Kalle eyed his bed. It was barely wide enough for him, and he thought his legs would dangle off the end. Another yawn gripped him and he decided he didn’t care if he spilled over the edges. He fell on top of his blanket and closed his eyes, already half asleep.

Several heartbeats later, his eyes snapped open. Rustling sounds emanated from the other side of the screen. “Your noise is disturbing. What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Folding my tunic.”

“Oh.” Kalle hadn’t bothered to take off his clothes. Even the painful shoes still clung to his feet.

“Keep your eyes to yourself,” she said.

His eyes jerked from his feet to the screen. Her silhouette was barely visible through the thickly woven bamboo. “I can’t see you, anyway,” he mumbled.

“I said, don’t look!”

“Fine!” he snipped. “And don’t you look at me, either.”

Lisse snorted. Kalle imagined she was rolling her eyes at him. He’d grown familiar with that insolent expression, despite knowing her for only a day. Finally, she settled down and silence filled the shop.

Kalle relaxed, but his earlier exhaustion had fled. He turned on his side so he could peer through the screen. Was she looking back at him, with those mocking eyes?

A drop of water splashed on Kalle’s face. Then another. It had started to rain, and the shop’s crooked little roof had a leak.

***

Kalle moved through the days like a cart with a misshapen wheel. As he struggled, Lisse quickly mastered her tasks. She ground the herbs into fine powders, while Kalle only achieved a damp mess in his dish. She knew just how much water to use in the distillation of liquid potions. Kalle managed to both spill the water and set a small fire. Lisse enjoyed talking with Master Tuenne’s many patients, but Kalle kept forgetting they were not obligated to show him respect.

A heavy cloak of frustration settled around Kalle’s shoulders. Finally, Master Tuenne sent him to deliver medicines to the homebound patients, proclaiming the fresh air would bolster the boy’s spirits. Unfortunately, the village’s twisting streets baffled him, leaving him even more discouraged.

To top it off, the evening rains continued to drip through the roof onto his cot.

“This is intolerable,” he grumbled during a particularly heavy downpour.

“Yes, it is uncomfortable,” Lisse said. “The drips don’t find me as often since I moved my cot away from the wall. Perhaps we could shift the screen, so you can move your bed to a drier space?”

“That’s…a considerate suggestion,” Kalle said. “Thank you.”

Lisse pulled the screen closer to her side of the room. “Kalle, do you really want to be a healer?”

“Of course,” he replied, nudging his cot closer to Lisse. “Isn’t that why we’re here?”

“It’s why I’m here,” Lisse said. “My Scroll of Destiny set me on the path of the healer. But you….”

Kalle sat on the edge of his bed. Her kind gesture, and her question, unnerved him. He wadded his blanket into a ball while he considered. “Truthfully,” he began, “I also came here at the behest of my Destiny Scroll.”

“Did it say you were to be a great healer?”

“Not specifically.” He didn’t mention the Scroll’s instructions regarding footwear.

“Medicine does not seem to be your strong suit.”

He scowled, as was his habit, but then realized her comment didn’t upset him. He sighed. “I know.”

“Perhaps you are meant to do something else here.”

This had not occurred to Kalle. But, as the delicate fragrance of plums washed over him, he began to suspect his scroll did indeed have a different reason for sending him to the crossroads where Potential and Wisdom meet.

****

Myna Chang is the author of The Potential of Radio and Rain, an award-winning collection of flash and micro stories set in the shortgrass prairie. Her fiction has been selected for the 2023 Locus Recommended Reading List, W.W. Norton’s Flash Fiction America, Best Small Fictions, and Best Microfiction; her poetry has received an Honorable Mention in the 2024 Rhysling Awards.

She is the winner of the Lascaux Prize in Creative Nonfiction, as well as the New Millennium Award for Flash Fiction. Her work has received nominations for the Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net, and Best Horror of the Year, and has made multiple appearances on the Wigleaf Top 50 longlist.

Myna serves on the editorial staff of several magazines and anthologies. She hosts the Electric Sheep speculative fiction discussion group, as well as the Drop the Mic(ro) reading series, and she publishes MicroVerse Recommended Reading. She is a member of SFWA, HWA, and SFPA.