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... and Martel began like most mornings in the apothecary. As he entered, the resident apprentice turned and nodded at him in greeting. "Hullo, Martel. Mistress Rana was out last night, gathering herbs. I started, but if you could dry those?"

"Certainly." Martel took position at his worktable and looked through the plants. It was an eerie sight; they looked familiar, yet he did not feel certain he could recognise them. He picked one up; it resembled coltsfoot, but the colour was wrong.

< ...

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