Refilling The Reservoir With Care

20260129

Written for Luna Asli Kolcu’s “Myths of Winter - Week 9” event.

For over forty years Edna’s hut had been open to all who needed healing. Ailments of the body, the mind, the heart… all who entered her domain received magical solace. The village was proud of her. An exemplary healer.
This morning, for the first time, knockers weren’t answered. And the door, when pushed, refused to budge.
People banged harder. Tapped on the shutters. Even shoved scribbled descriptions of their problems under the unsympathetic door.
Edna didn’t answer.
It was mid-afternoon when Woodsman Dylan saw the crowd huddled by her hut, fretting and complaining in equal measure. Once he found out what was going on he clipped ears and cussed fools and hurried to fetch an axe.
Now a blanket had been tacked over the doorway to keep out the howling winds while the door was patched up. And Dylan sat opposite Edna, who was clutching her shawl tight around her shoulders and whimpering apologies. Not touching the tea or food people had brought.
It was no mundane illness which had halted her work, but an affliction of the soul. Something no magic could cure.
“I’ve tried. I swear.” Edna scrubbed at her red-rimmed eyes. “But to imbue the healing you have to hold the afflicted in your thoughts and care and let that care flow through you into the medicine, and I, I just… it’s like I’ve run out. Like I’ve been scraping the bottom of my barrel and suddenly broke through to nothing.”
Her hollow gaze roved listlessly over the tools filling her hut. “Maybe I’m just getting too old. I’ve been trying to find an apprentice for years, but…” She sighed, her shoulders sinking further. “I don’t blame them. It’s far from a glamorous job, being responsible for cleaning up everyone’s messes. Constantly being handed problems and having to care about them.”
“Ah, not that-” She flushed and belatedly reached out to wrap her hands around the steaming mug. “I-I’ve never felt people were ungrateful! My pantry and woodshed’s always full. The village looks after me, it does. I know that should be enough, but…” Her words shrank into a mumble. An inarticulate mixture of apology and plea.
Dylan looked at the unguents and tisanes and poultices covering the sides. Each almost ready, then abandoned. He scratched his chin. “This caring and imbuing and all… can anyone learn to do it?”
“Yes. It’s like anything - some people have talent, but most everyone can get there.” Edna squinted at him, her expression incredulous. “But… you can’t be thinking of becoming an apprentice yourself?”
“Nah.” Dylan dismissed the concept with a flick of his calloused hand. “Found my calling already. But.”
He dragged his stool over so he was sitting next to her. “Reckon if you can teach me how to do it, you can teach the rest of ‘em. And if we can all put in the caring… reckon we should. Take turns, like.”
Edna blinked rapidly. Her eyes once again bright with tears - but unlike the numb fits which had plagued her of late, these tears welled up rather than seeping out. Spawned from a bubbling spring of relief and gratitude.
“First, get this down ya.” Dylan pushed the cooling pottage under her nose. “A shrill belly never helped nowt. Then pick me something nice and easy to start with, yea? And I’ll see what I can do.”
“R-right. Well…” Edna absently started spooning food as her mind raced. She mumbled “Wanda still needs something to numb her broken leg, that…”
“Ah.” Dylan winced. “Aye, that’ll be plaguing her fierce by now. And I recall how it felt when my foot got crushed under that tree. Think I can muster up a heap of caring for her.”
“Let me get it finished…” Edna shoved the empty bowl aside and got up, her movements brisk and purposeful once more.
Dylan eyed the piles and said “We’ll try and find someone to help you with the brewing and all, too. It’s a lot for one person.”
“Yes. It is.” Edna set her shoulders. “But. That’ll take a long time. It’s not an easy trade to learn.”
“Good reason to get someone started on it now.”
“I’d certainly welcome an extra pair of hands. Willing and present goes a long way.”
Edna set the jar down in front of him and mused “This’d be easier if I could show you, but…” She stared down at her hands, mouth twisting, then sighed and shook her head. “Let me talk you through what Old Gwen taught me. And… we’ll see.”
Dylan nodded. Bringing his full focus. He didn’t doubt that, compared to her work, his would be like a young’uns first shaky chop verses that of an old master. But those green chops could still bring a tree down, if the young’un kept at it. Needed to prove that applied here. Then get everyone pulled in.
When the well had run dry was the wrong time to start digging a new one. But every moment after was worse.

Prompt was “The village healer has treated everyone through every winter for forty years. This morning, they closed their door. No explanation. No exceptions. Something broke in them. And now everyone else has to figure out how to survive without the person who always saved them.”