It had been another long night for the physician. As the season warmed and the flowers bloomed, hayfever had begun to be the common ailment that many sought relief from and so it was rare that he saw no visitors to the infirmary as the day passed.
There was much work that needed to be done while the herbs he required were more easily accessible, to dry, prepare and store for the winter that would be upon him again all too quickly. It left the man with little rest, the permanent bags underneath his eyes having only grown darker with the limited sleep the doctor allowed himself during this time.
Certain herbs and flowers had to be used at different stages of their growth and as such, he had to be mindful and collect all that he could and would be needed once the season of their growth would pass.
He listened to the soft crunch of the dry leaves nested within the brass mortar, the gentle clink of the metals as the pestle struck against the sides of the tall cup, alongside the crackle of the fireplace nearby and the bubbling of an alembic that stood next to him. Together it all created a calming, rhythmic melody that kept the man’s focus and aided to relax the physician as he worked.
Once the Mullein Leaf had been reduced to a powder-like form, it was time to add the fresh Horseradish paste that he had prepared earlier; the man needing a short break as the strong smell of the mustard plant assaulted his senses once more.
The physician took a step back, using the time to collect his cup of tea and drain what remained of the now cold brew. The taste of the foreign flower was pleasing to the palate, despite its subtle sweetness and still he wondered what he could pair with it.
The Eastern merchant had brought a large crateful of spices and other things that the physician had requested the previous summer and now that he had it all, he found himself overwhelmed with what he could do with all the new ingredients. They would have to be used sparingly and perhaps some substitutes found, if it was at all possible.
Elias slipped around and moved away from his work station, leaving the paste he was working on to rest for now while he returned the empty cup to the kitchen. With all that had to be done, there was always something more and he found himself barely with any free time. Between the preparations of medicine and future storage, he now had to educate both Ruevir and Catalinna on the new ingredients that had arrived from the East and the far South. Some of which he had never handled himself and only knew of through old notes left by his grandfather.
Among them, recipes for what his grandfather had named Medicinal Foods. The idea had intrigued the doctor and throughout the winter, the man had worked on translating his late grandfather’s notes to understand the recipes he had written while travelling and seeking knowledge throughout Rhûn.
Hot, warm, neutral, cool and cold. Those were the natures of which these recipes were based on alongside the five flavours; sour, bitter, sweet, spicy and salty. It was an interesting concept, one that the doctor was not familiar with, but the more he had studied his grandfather’s writing, the more he saw a common link between what he and others in his field had learned and the teaching of those his grandfather had found in the East.
His writing spoke of elements, much like those that Elias had come to learn of, but yet they were different. Where he had learned of earth, fire, water, wind and aether, these writings spoke of wood, fire, earth, metal and water.
The doctor still hadn’t fully grasped the understanding of the latter choice of elements, but through the notes his grandfather had left, he was beginning to link the two teachings and find a path of similarity. Perhaps his grandfather’s idea of Medicinal Food and healing was not as far fetched as the physician had first thought upon finding the notes. From what he understood, each of the element and flavours named related to parts of the body, much like the humors he had learned about.
Elias placed his cup down on the table to be washed later, his attention drawn to the thinly spread honey that he had cooked earlier in the night and set out to cool. Sugar was an important ingredient in many of his syrups and other concoctions, but it was something that was not readily available in the lands he now lived in and so, he had to make his own substitute.
Elias removed his glove and pressed his finger against the surface of the brittle honey and watched as it snapped under his fingers like glass, complete with an eerily similar sound.
It would have to be ground up into fine powder, another chore added to the list of what the man had to get through in a short amount of time.
As he stood in the kitchen, he looked around and what had transpired within the small room the previous night came to his mind. He furrowed his brows, perhaps he had shown too much of himself to the woman that evening, but there was little that could be done about it now. He did not have time to linger upon what had happened or what may become of it all. For now, his focus was on the work that had to be done. Soon he would unlock the door to the infirmary and he was quite certain another would be brought in with a running nose and an irritable cough to be fixed.
Before long, the physician had returned to his work station, his mask donned to spare himself the pungent smell of the root he was working with.
Rhubarb powder was added to the mixture along with the dandelion syrup he had made as the flowers began to bloom in the passing month. The powder helping to absorb the moisture and the syrup added to bind it all together. What he was left with was a ball of paste that had similar malleability as soft clay.
The doctor laid the ball out on a flat disk made of glass and using a long spatula, he worked the paste out into a thin, elongated cylinder. Once made, he found the tool that his father had gotten crafted to cut the cylinder paste down into equally sized small spheres. It was a method that Elias and his father had begun to experiment with, but never fully studied due to the man’s passing. It wasn’t until the young physician had found all the tools again that he had decided to revive the experiment and hopefully find a new method of providing people with the medicine that they needed, something simple that did not require preparations.
The doctor collected the small paste balls he had made and with the help of a simple, round disc of wood he shaped them into small cylinder-like shapes that were more pleasing to the eye. It was all tedious work, but one that had to be done. When all had been shaped, the pills were collected and lightly tossed in honey sugar to coat and help fight against the strong taste that the horseradish caused, in hopes that it would go down with more ease for those he’d give it to aid against their hayfever.
The doctor had already given another man such pills, for different reasons, but had not heard from him since. If not for the sighting of this man in town, the physician would possibly have presumed the man dead. Why this patient had not returned after the week suggested was beyond the doctor’s understanding, but from what he witnessed, the man was good and well and so Elias could only assume that the cut on the man’s arm had healed well and what had been prescribed had worked as intended. Even so, there was a slight annoyance that nipped at the physician for he had no results to write down or notes to make of what the man had experienced in his time of healing. He nearly felt as if his time and ingredients had been wasted.
Neither had he heard from the Hobbit that had come to him in regards to problems with his sleep and so the doctor remained clueless if what he suggested and the medicine provided had worked or not.
Many had come and some never bothered to return, despite the doctor’s request for them to do so. In the end, it didn’t even matter. Whatever their reasons, it was not his concern, even if it was bothersome at times when he found himself unable to add to his notes and further advance his own knowledge in regards to the medicine he made. How was he going to improve if he did not see the results for himself?
Elias dismissed the thought and set his focus on arranging the new batch of pills he had made, leaving them to dry and be placed in bottles later. Another batch had to be made and later, he’d have to break the honey glass into a fine powder to add to his current supply.
Salves, jellies, tinctures, teas, pills and more had to be made and between it all, the doctor still had two that wished to learn from him as well that he had to fit in how to cook, now that he had what he needed for his grandfather’s recipes.
Catalinna had offered to teach the physician and help him along. Despite all that he did for his work, he had been incapable of cooking properly. He could create gold that swirled within its container, but he could not boil an egg. Even he could not fully understand this flaw as the structure of cooking was the same as he did daily in regards to his work and yet he had failed each time he tried too cook anything decent on his own.
Today, he knew a bit more of how to prepare simple, bland dishes that required minimal amounts of work. If he was going to expand into these Eastern teachings of Medicinal Food, he would need assistance and Catalinna had the patience, knowledge and curiosity to help the doctor along.
It was at this time that he half wished that his practice and apothecarium were separated, much like it had been back with his father in Minas Tirith. Where people would come to the infirmary to find his father and he would write a note for them to take to the apothecary so the medicine could be made.
Here, Elias played both parts and after the opening of the Healing House, he rarely found a moment for himself, but thankfully the stress of the new establishment had been cut with generous donations from people. Ones that he had been surprised by as he had never expected such a thing, but welcomed all the same.
It would take time to teach someone the works of an apothecary, but he found himself sorely needing an assistant in regards to the preparation of medicine and other things related to the practice.
As he thought about this, the women that already studied and worked for him came to mind. Perhaps one, if not both, of them would be drawn to take up on the work, if he offered it. That thought, among many others that raced through the physician’s mind lingered through the morning as he waited for the pills to dry, powdered the glass honey and prepared a new batch of medicine he hoped would help in the battle against the seasonal hayfever.
