“And you’re certain this will win me the girl I love?” asked the gawky youth behind the counter, nervously shuffling back and forth.
“Have I not told you so a hundred times?” returned the apothecary. “This marvelous potion,” she said, raising it in the air so it caught the single beam of light in the shop, “is made from the fragrances of a flower that no longer exists anywhere in the world.” Leaning closer, she added “This is the last of my stock bought from a Tyrinese trader. There is no more left in all the world. Syralind, a near mythical white flower, is foremostly an aphrodisiac-- the most powerful in existence and the rarest. Dab it on your skin and clothing, and she will be yours forever.”
He reached into his belt pouch, drawing forth a single small beaten gold coin. He turned it over and over in his fingers before letting it fall heavily to the wooden counter. The apothecary smiled, knowing the fish had been netted. The coin was snatched up by the apothecary, bitten and carefully stored away in a pouch. In return, the young man reverently picked up the vial containing the aphrodisiac and left the shop as quickly as he could, objects trembling on the shelves in his violent wake.
The apothecary sat alone in her dark little shop, fingering the gold coin. She smiled greedily. For the ‘marvelous aphrodisiac’ was nothing more than ordinary almond oil scented with the fragrance of an unnamed weed that grew in her yard. And for her slight troubles, an entire golden coin. The love of the youth was rumored to already be enamored of him, but there was hardly a need to inform the young man of such. How gullible the world...
***
On the day of the wedding between the young man and his love, a small, white and utterly insignificant flower opened in the apothecary’s garden and released its marvelous fragrance into the air.
This is a very, very short story based again on levels of confusion and ignorance. In this one, *no one* fully knows exactly what's going on. Isn't life fun?
