Nidrabloom

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The people praised Mrs Ackerley as the wisest woman in town due to her thorough knowledge in the art of herbalism. After many recommendations, I have decided to visit this learned widow and ask for some medicine or the like to ease this damnable fatigue.
"Sleep is the cure of sleeplessness, young man." said she dryly after she had listened through my laments. I had no answer to that, such as people do when confronted by logic, and feeling quite silly about the matter had me remain silent for the following moments. In the while, my host got busy with pouring hot tea for both of us and when she sat back into her armchair, she appeared to be more sincere than before.
"Help often lies in front of our noses, in the most uninteresting forms." she reached out and tore off something from the bundle in the vase in front of her. As shrivelled and brown as it was, I believed it to be nothing more than a weed of some sort, but the widow Ackerley held it up with such reverence that I had to take a closer look. Indeed, it was a tiny and rather plain flower. "Nidrabloom is one of the oldest remedies for a soul disturbed and it can be found in any second bush one might come across. Remove the leaves carefully, grind three ounces into an oil, then burn it as you lay down to sleep. As you inhale its light fragrance, all distress within shall fade, and a night of blissful sleep shall follow."
As we drank our tea, we casually spoke of the ways of the world. Mrs Ackerley asked me of my travels, and in return, she told me all that must be known of the Kingdom. It was a pleasant afternoon, but as night slowly approached I had to return to my lodging. Before I left, I courteously thanked her for the herbs and as I was about to reach for my pocketbook, she raised her hand in protest.
"I am none of those city-physicians" it was impossible not to notice the contempt for the said people in her tone. She leaned closer. "Three ounces, and only three ounces, never forget that, young man. If those thrice-damned, white-robed buffoons would've remembered that during the war, I would still be a mother of two."
Her final words of warning were necessary, yet had me leave with a heavy heart. Against her disapproval, I did leave a bill on her table, even though I knew that it won't heal her own soul. Indeed, not even the most exotic herb in her dryer room will...

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