Welcome, you’ve stumbled into The Tori Story Series. If this is your first visit to this realm you might want to catch up.

---

---

“Here” The Peddler held out the small amber vial.

“Oh Peddler!” Tori cried, tears of joy falling down her face. She was going on five days of sleepless nights, constant work, and countless obstacles with absolutely no results. No matter what she did, Ben was not getting any better. In fact with each passing day he continued to get progressively worse. 

Tori was at her wits end. 

But alas! As fate would have it, the Peddler came through. Here the Peddler stood before her offering her penicillin— a sure fire cure for the boy. Yes, finally it seemed someone or something decided to smile down on her. 

“Tori,” The Peddler warned handing her the bottle. “Be careful. This may not wor—”

Grinning from ear to ear, Tori waved him off. She wasn’t hearing it. 

“Ha! Peddler, it’s penicillin. It works every time. You don’t understand. This is a miracle drug.” Tori smiled and squealed, then planted a kiss on his cheek. At once, she took the bottle from him and ran off, out through the west entrance of the courtyard, through the dank, dark castle corridors and into Ben’s chamber. 

~

Mary, a handmaiden, held a bowl of icy cold spring water and sat by Ben’s side wiping his forehead and face with a damp cloth. Occasionally, she pushed the soft blond hair out of the boy’s eyes while she muttered soft penitent prayers. She rocked back and forth, a constant movement that had always offered her small comfort and one she often fell into unknowingly when she was troubled. The trouble was, today… she was deeply troubled. 

And so she rocked. 

She kept an ever-watchful eye on Ben while he lay in the bed shivering. His fever burned high. Too high. 

For days Mary had sat by his side closely following the Witch’s orders. Keep him cool, give him sundry potions, and rub oils on his chest. Try this. Try that. In Mary’s humble opinion the Witch did everything but what needed to be done. 

At length, Mary had decided to take matters in her own hands. After all, she knew the one and only cure for a person in Ben’s condition was leeches. They worked every time, except for those times that they didn’t. Of course, that only happened when you didn’t place them exactly two inches apart, or was it three?

Honestly, she couldn’t remember, (Mary wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed) and so the rocking intensified. 

You see, ever since she had applied the leeches Ben had rapidly declined. In addition, the leeches weren’t falling off like they should. Instead they remained attached to his limp body, slimy green ooze secreting from most of the bite sites. Several leeches had sucked so much blood that their bodies bulged like the swollen belly of a starving child. 

It must have been three inches. Mary thought. Or was it only three at a time? This isn’t right. No, this isn’t right at all. 

She poked at one oversized leech. The moment her finger touched it, the thing burst, spewing a foul smelling yellow and green pus in all directions. 

Well, that was easy. She thought to herself and began gently pressing all the leeches. Each one bursting in turn. She cleaned up the mess the best she could and quickly covered the boy up with the heavy quilt to ease his pain or maybe she was just covering him up to ease her guilt. With Mary, you never can know.

Mary resumed her rocking along with her soft penitent prayers only they were no longer soft. The volume of her voice had increased to a low roar. Loud enough to prevent her from hearing when the Witch entered, made her way across the room, and paused at the foot of the bed. 

“Ben” the Witch hissed. 

Mary jumped and tossed the bowl she was holding into the air. It fell onto the floor spilling water all around her feet. She yelped like a kicked dog and scurried back, pressing herself as far back into the corner as she could. In hopes of gaining as much space as was possible between her and her guilt.

~

“Ben” Tori whispered as she touched the cold clammy foot that had slipped out from under the covers. Ben’s dilated pupils, sunken eyes, and pale grey skin told her everything she needed to know. He was in shock.

“What happened? How long has he been like this?” Tori asked Mary while quickly making her way around to the side of the bed. 

Mary said nothing. Instead, she inched her way ever so slowly along the back wall trying to make her escape. All the while keeping her eye on the Witch, terror plastered on her face. 

Tori cursed under her breath.  Gently, she lifted the heavy quilt off the boy’s body in order to check his vitals. 

She recoiled, immediately covering her nose. The foul stench of rotting flesh assaulted her nostrils. Large gaping sores and a thick layer of green oozing mucus covered his body. Purple rashes populated and faded, pulsing so to speak as if the rash itself were a living breathing organism.

“Who did this?” Tori screamed aghast. 

Mary cowered, but remained speechless. Then, she did the only thing she knew to do in a sticky situation. She fled. Unfortunately, she slipped on the water spill from earlier. 

Mary’s eyes grew wide before she screamed. “Please NO! Please!” Then crumpled to the floor kicking and clawing as if Tori were somehow holding her against her will. 

Tori sighed before turning her attention back to Ben.  

“Ben,” Tori began, gathering his head in her hands. She poured the penicillin into his mouth, dressed his wounds, and proceeded to make him as comfortable as possible. With limited medical equipment and primitive supplies there was really little more she could do than wait.

---

---