Mist over the Moonwell Gardens

The Moonwell Gardens woke slowly, as if stretching after a long dream. Dew clung to sage leaves and curled along the veins of mint, and the stone basin at the garden’s center hummed with a low, patient magic. In this place, fantasy did not shout. It breathed. It waited. And it learned from the hands that worked within it.

I arrived at dawn with a basket pressed to my hip, filled with clean cups, linen cloths, and bundles of dried herbs. The Moonwell was known for its calm, but calm only stayed when discipline held it in place. Health required attention, repetition, and respect. The well reflected that truth, shimmering brighter when routines were followed and dimming when corners were cut.

Today’s work centered on the east terrace, where patients rested beneath woven canopies. Many came with ordinary weariness, but a few carried the discomfort of thrush—oral yeast infections that left their mouths sore, dry, and coated in white patches. Magic could soothe pain, but it could not replace proper care. Candida grows when balance is lost, often after illness or antibiotics, and restoring that balance takes patience and consistency (Pappas et al.).

Before the first patient arrived, I cleaned. Every cup was washed, every surface wiped, every cloth replaced. Infections can linger on tools and fabrics if they are not properly sanitized (Kramer et al.). The Moonwell responded with a gentle ripple, approving the work. Fantasy here rewarded responsibility.

The first patient was Liora, a traveling storyteller whose voice had grown hoarse and painful. She touched her throat nervously as she sat. I prepared a warm drink—chamomile and peppermint steeped gently, never boiling. Chamomile can help reduce inflammation, while peppermint offers a cooling effect that eases irritation (Amsterdam et al.). I added a small spoon of honey, not for sweetness alone, but for its mild antifungal properties (Al-Waili et al.).

“Drink slowly,” I told her. “Let it coat your mouth.”

She did, closing her eyes as warmth spread. Between sips, I reminded her to avoid sharing cups or utensils until healing was complete. Oral thrush spreads easily when hygiene is neglected (CDC). Love, in these moments, was not indulgence. It was honesty spoken gently.

As Liora rested, I tended the garden. Lemon balm was trimmed, basil checked for pests, and mint divided so it would not overtake its neighbors. Plants mirror bodies. When one grows too aggressively, others weaken. Balance must be restored early, or harm spreads quietly (Van den Berg et al.).

Later, a young apprentice named Torin arrived with white patches on his tongue and a sheepish expression. He had been skipping meals and living on sweetened drinks during long nights of study. Sugar feeds yeast growth, and dry mouths allow Candida to thrive (Humphrey and Williamson). We talked as I prepared his drink, not to shame him, but to teach.

“You do not have to suffer to prove dedication,” I said, handing him a cup of warm herbal tea. “Care for yourself is part of your training.”

He nodded, embarrassed but relieved. Education reduces recurrence more effectively than treatment alone (Pappas et al.). The Moonwell pulsed softly, its waters brightening as understanding took root.

Throughout the day, drinks were brewed, surfaces cleaned, and herbs replenished. Between patients, I scrubbed the stone lip of the well, rinsed cups again, and replaced linens. Repetition was not dull here. It was grounding. Predictable routines reduce stress and support healing, especially for those already uncomfortable or anxious (Ryan and Deci).

As evening approached, the garden filled with soft conversation. Liora tested her voice and smiled. Torin reported less burning in his mouth. Improvement was gradual, as it should be. Thrush does not vanish instantly; it fades when the environment no longer supports it.

Before nightfall, I walked once more among the plants. Mint released its sharp scent, chamomile nodded heavy with blossoms, and the Moonwell reflected the first stars. Fantasy shimmered lightly, not as spectacle, but as affirmation. Care done with attention leaves echoes.

When the lanterns were finally lit, I recorded the day’s notes: symptoms observed, drinks prepared, cleaning completed. Documentation matters. Memory alone is unreliable, and patterns reveal themselves only when written down (CDC).

I closed the garden gates as mist rolled in, confident that healing had begun—not because of magic alone, but because of steady hands, clean tools, nourishing drinks, and love expressed through responsibility. The Moonwell dimmed into rest, ready to awaken again, just like those who had come seeking balance.

Works Cited (MLA)

Al-Waili, Noori, et al. “Antimicrobial and Healing Effects of Honey.” Journal of Medicinal Food, vol. 8, no. 2, 2005, pp. 145–153.

Amsterdam, Jay D., et al. “Chamomile (Matricaria recutita) May Provide Antidepressant Activity in Anxious, Depressed Humans.” Journal of Clinical Psychopharmacology, vol. 32, no. 5, 2012, pp. 725–729.

Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Candidiasis. CDC, 2023.

Humphrey, Susan P., and Richard T. Williamson. “A Review of Saliva: Normal Composition, Flow, and Function.” Journal of Prosthetic Dentistry, vol. 85, no. 2, 2001, pp. 162–169.

Kramer, Axel, et al. “How Long Do Nosocomial Pathogens Persist on Inanimate Surfaces?” BMC Infectious Diseases, vol. 6, 2006.

Pappas, Peter G., et al. “Clinical Practice Guideline for the Management of Candidiasis.” Clinical Infectious Diseases, vol. 62, no. 4, 2016, pp. e1–e50.

Ryan, Richard M., and Edward L. Deci. Self-Determination Theory: Basic Psychological Needs in Motivation, Development, and Wellness. Guilford Press, 2017.

Van den Berg, Agnes E., et al. “The Benefits of Nature Experience: Improved Affect and Cognition.” Landscape and Urban Planning, vol. 99, no. 3–4, 2011, pp. 216–224.