Dear Snumoo,

Yes, it has been a month since our last correspondence. Take heart; the reason lies within a punishment I received from Master Mikaere. Let me explain what has transpired in the last month.

Being the opportunist I am, I took the first sheep that wandered over to the fence. It was a curious thing, so easily separated from its group. It then trotted over to eat the freshly grown grass from our property.

As soon as it bent down to commence the blissful snack I had laced with a sleeping potion, I injected a small needle into the beast’s back to draw its blood. It took an awful leap into the air and bolted down the field, taking the needle, my arm, and myself still attached to its back. I couldn’t let go. Death was approaching my basil with a spring in its step that didn’t belong to an old man.

In the end, Master Mikaere found me clinging to the furious animal, caked with mud and blood. He put me on safe ground and discovered the needle half-filled with the beast’s blood. My tears flooded out and I couldn’t see his expression through my blurry vision.

I was prepared for a severe scolding, expulsion, perhaps some torturous punishment. What I received was a crooked smile. He sent me off to have a bath, then prepared hot chocolate with bits of chilli in it.

He asked me why I was playing rodeo in a paddock full of sheep with a needle deep in an animal’s back. I explained without a thread of a lie the reason for my behaviour. I didn’t mix in my passion for staying under his tutelage. I deemed it a lost cause.

I told him the bitter truth about the basil plant then offered to pack my bags.

Before I turned around, he burst into laughter. I pulled my eyes off the floor and looked at him.

My initial thought was that he was happy to rid himself of a burden he never wanted.

“The basil was losing its special properties we use for potions, and was becoming a normal basil plant rather than being a royal herb. But it didn’t want to let go of being a royal herb. And with everything in life, when you refuse to let something that should go, go, it will turn into poison. There was no saving it.”

His explanation made no sense and I had no energy to understand. All I knew was that he had made this cruel task to render me without an excuse for my expulsion.

“I’ll go pack my bags,” I said, needing big gulps of air between the words.

“Lottie, you’re not going to get kicked out of here.”

The tears welling in my eyes froze. That’s what it felt like, anyway.

“I wanted to see how you did when faced with an impossible task,” he said, sipping his tea. “You didn’t pass the test, since you never asked for help, probably because you thought I was going to fail you if you did, but that’s the opposite. I need you to trust me and to ask questions when you’re stuck.”

I wanted to retort, but I bit my tongue.

“If you don’t ask for help, then you won’t ever learn. I hope next time, you ask me. Not to do the whole carrying for you, of course, but to at least help you achieve what you need. That’s what my role is.” He then reached out and tousled my hair. “And thank you for telling me the truth in the end.”

“So… I’m still going to be your student?”

Master Mikaere shifted uncomfortably and stroked his invisible beard. “You were already my student when you replied to my acceptance letter, Lottie.”

He never said I would be kicked out if I failed... “You could have just told me this!” I yelled, feeling myself turning bright red.

He laughed. “Sorry, you really seemed like you wanted a test! What’s a better way to teach than through experience, eh?”

His apologies were met with a concrete wall. If I thought about the heartaches and the sleepless nights, I couldn’t bring myself to be happy about the turn of events.

“You can have the stacking goat dolls as a prize?”

“I deserve a belladonna plant at least!”

“If you stop calling me ‘Master,’ I will get you one sooner?”

I have to admit, it wasn’t a welcomed lesson. As you know, I dislike showing a gap in my knowledge. Asking questions only leads to frustration, people being annoyed at you or worse, people lauding it over you.

I understand Mikaere isn’t the sort likely to do any of that, but if I can do things myself, I would rather keep others out. How else will I learn if I don’t find the answers for myself? However as promised, I will think on it and ask for help from Mikaere if I’m absolutely stuck.

So I received the collection of wooden goat dolls, and after a good night’s sleep, my first assignment was to apologize to the farmer next door for hurting his sheep. Master Mikaere offered to go with me, but I refused. It was my decision to use the sheep, so it was my responsibility. Another major part of being an adult is to take responsibility for my actions.

I explained to the farmer next door that I scared his sheep and in its mad panic it hurt itself. I braced myself for the finger wagging, yelling and questions of my upbringing, but he just shrugged and said it was fine. He offered me cookies his wife had baked. I tried to give him my two weeks of allowance but he laughed. He must’ve assumed I was a small child that hides behind an adult’s back, and I was determined to show how wrong he was. I refused to leave his land until we agreed that I’d buy his sheep for three weeks of allowance with Master Mikaere’s blessing.

When I explained to Master Mikaere about the sheep, he seemed surprised but agreed after learning how much the guilt would eat away at me if I didn’t take responsibility.

“Well, if it makes you feel better,” he said.

So it looks like the sheep and I are here to stay. I named it Fiona. I originally wanted to name it Blood Sample #001, but Master Mikaere wouldn’t let me.

Other than that, I have already learnt the plant names in his garden and met with some of his clients who come personally to buy his potions. So far, numerous and various, but no Queen of England.

One client of interest was a man dressed in black, his face covered in a black veil, dark as the endless night. He said nothing as his driver did the talking with Master Mikaere. I asked Master Mikaere what he sold to them, but he simply smiled. He told me I would know when I started making them too.

I will write more as soon as I get the chance.

Don’t worry Snu, my love for you cannot ever be ebbed away by a fluffy creature.

Your Lovely Student of Mikaere W Tahuriorangi’s, Lottie M Underwood