The Pinecone Apothecary by S.J. Amit

The Pinecone Apothecary

The Pinecone Apothecary by S.J. Amit
English | 2020 | Fantasy | ePUB | 315 KB

“Sometimes pain is only the messenger. That is the language with which your eternal soul speaks to the one-time person that you are. In the Land of the Mosaic there’s an apothecary who will know how to speak to the free spirit residing within you.”

At the height of his success, Julian discovers he has been left without a job. The unrelenting pangs in his chest appear at an increasing frequency.

Despite his attempts at recovering, the excruciating pain paralyzes him, and without knowing how and why, he crosses over to the Land of the Mosaic – which has no beginning or end, where all its components are intertwined and are of equal value and importance – in a journey towards the pinecone apothecary who will prepare the remedy that can cure his pain.

Julian finds himself in a wooden hut with two people he doesn’t know. Despite his fear, he agrees to go on a journey through the Land of the Mosaic alongside Kelemance, a man who promises to accompany Julian and guide him to the pinecone apothecary.

Their travels turn out to be extremely challenging, both mentally and physically, taking them through extreme and threatening situations. From the river that runs through the Valley of Abandoned Issues, through the walled-off Colony of the Lost, to the Children of Talent in the Area of the Changing Seasons and their Memory Guardians – with one extraordinary child standing out from the rest – through the clear waterfalls all the way to the Exit Cave, and out to the top of the Mountains of Freedom.

“You wanted to see me?” The door to his office was open. I leaned on the doorframe a little bit awkwardly, I didn’t want to seem frightened. His secretary had come over to my office especially to summon me.

He turned away from his computer screen to face me, “Sit down, Julian,” he pointed with his chin towards the three black leather chairs in front of him.

“Should I shut it?” I went in, but kept hold of the door handle for a moment longer.

“Yes, you can.” He turned back to the screen, clicked on the mouse, shuffled the keypad to the side and rolled on his chair to the center of the desk.

His dark brown wooden desk looked almost marble-like from having been cleaned and polished. As per usual, apart from the computer and the keypad and the three pens placed by its side, it was completely clear, except for the strategic plan that I had written, which was laid out in a plastic sleeve precisely at the center of the table, a yellow highlighter placed on top of it. I sat down on the middle chair.

“Do you know why I called for you?” He lifted the plan, letting the highlighter slide off onto the table, took the pages out of the sleeve, and brought the three pens from the left of the keypad closer to him.

“Actually I don’t,” I pulled down the legs of my pants which had rolled up over my socks, straightened myself and leaned back on the chair.

“You really don’t?” he smiled and gently tapped the pages on the wooden surface, straightening them and placing them back on the table.

“I mean, I hope I do.”

He slid the three pens over to him and placed them on the pages. Blue, black and red. The door opened and his secretary came in carrying a silver tray with two glasses of water, two white espresso cups and a few cookies.

“Thank you, Maureen,” I turned to her and she smiled graciously.

“Here you go,” he took two silver coasters out of a drawer, placed one in front of him and gently pushed the other one towards me with his long fingers. Maureen placed the glasses of water on the coasters, served each of us a white saucer bearing an espresso cup with a little spoon and a bag of brown sugar, put the plate of cookies by the stack of pages and walked out.

“How long did it take you to write this?”

“Three weeks,” I answered politely, trying to look him in the eyes. The massive window behind him offered a view of the noon-time city towers.

“You did quite a job here,” he tapped on the stack of pages with his fingers. “Drink your coffee in the meantime, before it gets cold,” he said as he turned on the big screen that was hanging on the wall to my right.

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