Lost Apothecary Novels & Stories

It was different from their world where the day and night differs. "It would be hard for Steve and his family to roam about now. He dare not come out when it's sunny" "You also realize that we can't change when it's day, Alpha" "I know. It would be possible when we've found the lost blood" Elon smirked. His omega, Dean, stared at him with a confused expression. "Lost blood? Where are we going to find that?"

It has an ornate metal clasp on the front which locks the pages giving the illusion of it being a box. I run my fingers over the clasp and it clicks open. I feel my wolf push to the front of my mind but I'm so engrossed in the book I hardly even notice. I open the cover carefully and look at it. On the inscription page is some writing and a hand drawn picture of a wolf in black ink. I read the inscription out loud. 'Journal of Lycius 1800AD' "Where does it say that?" Hunter says looking over my shoulder.

EMBER'S POV The apothecary is the kind of place you'd walk past a hundred times and never see. It's wedged between a shuttered tailor and a shop that seems to sell nothing but buttons, with a crooked green door and a hand-painted sign so faded I have to tilt my head to read it. Pennywort & Co. There's a little brass bell, and a window full of dusty jars, and a general air of a place that has not had a customer since the invention of electricity and would prefer to keep it that way.

I repeated. “Indeed. One sent to that house every month. And yet, the owner of the house himself never knew about it. I suspect it must be some kind of drug, as it came from an apothecary.” “Really? Which one?” I asked again. “If I recall… I believe it was called the ‘Euphoria Apothecary’. Do you know it?” I grimaced a bit at the question. “Yeah. It’s a place that sells homemade medicine. Supposedly, at least.”

‘It’s a card' I declare; it read Dr.Argon Smith Neurologist Millington Speciality Hospital Ph: xxxxx xxxxx M: xxxxx xxxxx ‘What is this card doing in my pillow cover?’ I wonder ‘Do I know him?’ ‘Maybe I do' ‘And maybe he can help me with my memory' ‘Yeah, let’s call him maybe' ‘Nah, let’s visit him. ‘I’ll even get to see who he is' I retaliate and speak to myself in a mixed tone but definitely good accent and points.

Now that I was gone, Wendy no longer needed to pretend to be a kind stepmother. After returning home, I began helping with the family business. My mother, feeling sorry for me, insisted that I didn’t have to overwork myself. I held a 10% stake in the company, and just the annual dividends alone surpassed several years’ worth of the Lawson family’s profits. I also reconnected with my old friends, who were shocked that I had disappeared for six whole years. It wasn’t surprising—Jack had always thought I wasn’t presentable, so he never introduced me to his friends.

"No idea. It was here when I arrived." My name was written on one cup. Amara. Handwriting I hadn't seen in months. I threw it in the sink. The second time, I couldn't pretend it was a coincidence. A delivery truck arrived with three boxes of medical supplies, the good kind, the expensive kind, the kind I'd requested six months ago and been told the budget didn't cover. No name on the packing slip. Same handwriting on the label. I called Maya. "Did you order these?" "No. Why?"

The apothecary's shop was called The Gilded Mortar. It was nestled in a marginally better part of the lower city, a place where desperate merchants and minor nobles might come to purchase poisons and love potions under the cloak of respectability. The sign, a gilded mortar and pestle, was polished and bright, a mocking beacon of false hope.

A black string laced into braids and will be connected to a rectangular shaped varnished coconut shell with a width of an inch and half and length of a fourth of an inch. The words carved should be 'lost souls' with a rose at the left side of the other bracelet and right on the other one. He wants two, and that's for her and him. He wanted it tied in a adjustable knots. After finalizing everything, he gave his drawing with the details to the vendor.The guy stared at his drawing. Then after few minutes he put his drawing down. "This design is really plain but very deep. Alright, tomorrow come back here with her. It should be all done tomorrow and you could show her the place," the vendor said

They reached the ruins before dawn. The old monastery stood hollow against the sky, its archways broken, its stones carved with prayers too old to remember. Inside, the air was heavy with incense and dust. The wounded were laid out on cloaks and bedrolls, while Mireya barked orders, trying to restore some form of order. Serenya stayed with Kaelen. She refused to let him be taken from her sight. When Aluin returned with a basin of water and herbs, she met his gaze—pleading without words.