The old man, standing with his hands folded behind his back, scrutinized her for a few moments. "You do seem familiar."
"Skinny Orian? Your errand boy during the plague in the west? Two years back, I worked with you when you came to my village to stop the outbreak. At that time, you guided me about the importance of daily baths as well as how to treat injuries through alternative means when required herbs are not in season."
"Orian?" Erich mumbled as the fog on his memories lifted. It finally struck him— this should be that young herbalist who wished to become a physician. "I do remember you. Your grandfather has dementia."
Given the strange and moody personality of this physician, she should have expected that he would only remember her through her sick grandfather.
"I am in need of your help," she said.
"What is it?"
"I…can't tell it here," she said hesitantly. "I need to talk to you alone."
"Is this about your grandfather?"
