Overgrown

‘Shit,’ Merrin cursed as his shovel hit a rock for the hundredth time that afternoon.

He’d managed to shake off all of the others, but this time the pain shot up his his arm, burying itself deep in his bones as his already bruised muscles felt the brunt of the force. The crackling purple veins pulsated with a flashing glow as darkness crackled across his vision.

The shovel clattered to the rocks below with a horrifyingly loud noise. It was the final piece to push Merrin over the edge entirely, and he kicked the tool into the dense undergrowth without a second thought.

‘Aren’t you supposed to be resting?’ Zane asked from somewhere behind, his footsteps growing closer as the gate clanged shut behind.

Merrin didn’t respond, too busy trying to bite his tongue against the slew of cruel words threatening to spill from his mouth. It wasn’t Zane’s fault for being right, but it didn’t make it any easier for Merrin to not try to skirt the blame for his pain.

Something heavy hit the grass, and Merrin turned to see Zane’s satchel unceremoniously ditched in the pile of clippings and weeds Merrin had made earlier. The staining on the leather looked worse than normal, pale green blotches splattered across the outside and a distinct hand print wrapped around the strap. It only took one quick look for Merrin to see that the satchel, despite its sorry state, still looked better than its owner.

It was as though the entire apothecary had exploded on him in a multitude of waves, layers of colours lining his work clothes and a notable fade of smeared stains across his skin. It only made him feel marginally better about his own shit day.

‘What the fuck happened to you?’ Merrin asked as he turned around properly, still rubbing his arm as if it made any difference.

‘I asked first,’ Zane said as he dropped down to sit on the now-exposed wall.

‘You didn’t ask, you accused,’ Merrin pointed out,resting one foot on the jagged stones knowing that if he sat down there was no chance he would be able to stand back up again.

‘My point still stands.’

‘So does mine.’

Zane rolled his eyes but shrugged and caved without any further pressure. ‘Fine. The potency of a new ingredient was a little higher than anticipated. So there were a few… unforeseen circumstances. It’s not dangerous, I think. Just stains like all hell.’

‘You expect me to believe that an exploding ingredient isn’t dangerous?’ Merrin asked, but Zane waved off his reasoning with a dismissive hand.

‘Experiments are just that, experiments.’ Zane crossed his legs over one another before giving Merrin a once over. ‘Your turn.’

Merrin stored that little phrase for later, fully knowing that Zane would hit him for using it against him, but it would very much be worth it. He then toyed with the various explanations that he could give, but none of them were particularly smart, and all of them would earn him that annoyed look Zane had perfected so long ago. But there was one he couldn’t argue against.

‘I was so fucking bored up there, Zane,’ he started, and he only spoke louder when Zane opened his mouth to interrupt. ‘No, I don’t care. I’ve been doing nothing for months now. I can’t work, I can’t repair the house, I can’t even help out in the market. I just wanted to do something useful that wasn’t supposed to be too hard. And that was clearing the garden.’

There was no anger on Zane’s face, no hint that he was even really annoyed by Merrin’s outburst. A small smile played on his lips that finally had the tension melting from Merrin’s shoulders.

‘Find anything good at least?’ Zane asked.

Merrin took a deep breath to try and rid himself of any lingering anger. ‘Maybe? I cleared away up to the wall and got out some of the less spiky weeds but my shovel just keeps hitting stone. I can see some sort of statue but I don’t know who it’s of.’

‘Have you considered clearing the brambles before going at it with a shovel?’ Zane asked, and the smile on his face meant that he knew exactly how annoying he was being. ‘I’ve heard shovels aren’t exactly the best tool for cutting through overgrowth.’

‘And what do you suppose I clear it with considering you’re such an expert?’ Merrin gestured to the array of tools scattered in the grass, each on coated in a thick layer of rust and frail enough that it was clear to see which ones he had tried to use from the way they’d crumbled at his touch. ‘Or should I just go at it with a kitchen knife?’

‘You could ask Tal for something,’ Zane said, looking at the statue buried in the overgrowth. ‘He’d probably help you out as well.’

‘So I can listen to his spiel on nature reclaiming its rightful place,’ Merrin said, raising his voice to poorly imitate the herbalist Zane had grown so fond of. ‘I would rather die.’

‘Then you have to take a trip out to Karliah’s and ask her to make you something with all the one piece of scrap you can carry.’

Merrin shot him a look that Zane smiled his sweetest smile in return of, and for a moment Merrin wondered if he could still win in a physical fight despite the months of bed-rest and more than half a year he lay unconscious. He’d like to think so.

‘Or I burn it,’ Merrin suggested, he had to do something with all the garden waste, and it would make a pretty good bonfire.

‘Historically,’ Zane said. ‘That has not gone well for the town.’

‘You can’t burn what’s already ash,’ Merrin said as he finally gave in and sat down alongside his brother.

‘You could certainly try,’ Zane said as he looked over at the statue.

He considered the features etched on its face, the stance, the clothes, as if every one was giving him another piece of the puzzle. If Merrin focused enough, he could almost see the thoughts piling onto one another as Zane’s lips pulled into a thin line, the wrinkle of his brow just enough to show his focus.

Merrin watched him think, more than happy to leave that to Zane. It was hard to keep track of everyone who had a statue in Ashenport. There were the usual major deities, the household names that had been hammered into the brain of each and every person who lived on Aedria. But there were also the minor deities, those that required a certain niche to know their name and reason for even being considered mightier than man.

But men still got statues, captains and explorers, magi lost to time, scholars—if they were lucky enough to have survived the wars and flames. And none of them ever held much importance in Merrin’s mind, and he couldn’t be bothered to even try to remember all of them anyway, he had more important things to fill his mind with.

‘Lady Luck,’ Zane said eventually. ‘Second Era depiction, she would’ve been gilded in silver, a plaque on the pedestal she’s standing on would give her prayer. I’m guessing by the location it was specifically for sailors heading out on a voyage. But I don’t remember her ever being here when we were younger.’

Statues didn’t just appear out of thin air, but it was hard for either of them to remember most of the specifics of their childhood. It wouldn’t have surprised Merrin if she had been here the whole time and they’d just ignored her, just another ornament in the mess of a garden that had never received much care in the first place.

It would explain a lot, if such a Lady could hold a wrath over something as meagre as a statue being overgrown, and punish those unknowing. Maybe clearing her would fix everything. Maybe it would fix nothing.

If only those tools weren’t rusted.

‘I guess Lady Luck will have to stay buried for another summer,’ Merrin said, the pain in his arm still noticeable with each and every flex.

‘She’ll live,’ Zane said and stood up. ‘But I won’t if I don’t get something to eat.’

‘Spoken like a true sceptic,’ Merrin said and followed suit. ‘Clovara brought some spiced buns over earlier, I haven’t tried one yet.’

‘Spiced buns…’ Zane repeated under his breath and scooped up his satchel to head inside.

Merrin took one more look at the overgrown mess of brambles and wondered whether or not he could convince Matty to do it instead with nothing but the promise of whatever treat Clovara would leave for him. The thought was promising, and Merrin followed Zane inside.