The day was like any other in Luminvale—the sun lazily beamed through the trees, the air filled with the scent of blooming daisies, and the village buzzed with the soft hum of everyday life. It was the kind of village where nothing much happened, which was exactly how Milo liked it. Or, rather, how he preferred it. You see, Milo, a young herbalist and self-proclaimed professional napper, had never been one for excitement, adventure, or responsibility.
Milo yawned as he sprawled across the counter of his grandmother's herbal shop, eyes half-lidded and barely focusing on the dusty shelves stacked with bottles of dried herbs, plants, and various mysterious concoctions. He'd already checked out the shop hours ago, choosing instead to rest on the counter with his feet propped up on a small barrel. A long-forgotten mug of herbal tea sat untouched by his side—he hadn't even bothered to drink it.
His grandmother, Grandma Willow, had been the village's primary herbalist for decades. Her potions, remedies, and knowledge were renowned, but Milo had always managed to avoid being involved. Why work when there was no need to? Being the heir to a shop didn't automatically make him responsible, right?
Suddenly, the bell above the door chimed, pulling Milo out of his state of almost-sleep. He groaned and turned his head to see Luca, his childhood friend, enter with a dramatic flourish. Luca, with his messy hair, ever-present smirk, and wide, energetic eyes, always seemed to pop up at the most inconvenient times.
"Hey, Milo! Got a minute?" Luca called out, grinning like he'd just won a prize.
Milo didn't answer right away. He stared at the ceiling, pretending he didn't hear Luca. But Luca wasn't the type to give up so easily.
"Come on, come on! You don't get to sleep the whole day away, do you?" Luca slid over to the counter with an exaggerated swagger, tapping the edge of the barrel where Milo's feet rested. "I've got some news!"
Milo's eyelids fluttered lazily. "Luca, it's... too early for news. Whatever it is, it can wait." He stretched and yawned, his feet slipping off the barrel and landing with a soft thud.
"Nope, not today," Luca insisted, his grin widening as he leaned in closer. "Your grandma left you the shop."
Milo blinked a couple of times, trying to process the information as his brain slowly awakened from its groggy stupor. "My... my what?"
"The shop!" Luca said, bouncing on his heels. "Grandma Willow. The one who left you her shop when she... well, you know..." He trailed off and mimed an exaggerated falling motion with his hand.
Milo's heart skipped a beat, and then promptly sank into his stomach. It was one of those moments where everything became too real, too sudden. His grandmother's passing—something he'd been avoiding thinking about—was now thrust upon him. He hadn't even realized she'd left him the shop. Not that he'd been expecting anything else, but the weight of it was hard to ignore.
"Wait, she did leave me the shop?" Milo asked, his voice taking on a hint of disbelief. He reached for the mug of herbal tea, not really interested in it but needing something to hold onto.
"Yep!" Luca grinned, clearly enjoying the dramatic flair of it all. "I guess she thought you'd grow up sooner or later. Looks like the clock's ticking now."
Milo slumped further into his seat, his arms crossing over his chest. "Great. Just great."
Luca leaned over the counter and raised an eyebrow. "What's the matter? You didn't want it? I mean, you've been in and out of here enough times to at least know what you're doing."
"I just wanted to nap in peace," Milo muttered, glancing around at the shelves full of dried herbs and strange jars. "This... this isn't what I signed up for. I was hoping I'd get a more... exciting inheritance. Maybe a house, a treasure chest, or—"
"Did you actually think your grandma would leave you treasure?" Luca snorted. "This is the village herbalist shop, not a pirate's loot pile."
Milo sighed deeply, letting his head fall onto the counter with a soft thunk. "I didn't ask for this. I was perfectly happy being the laziest herbalist in Luminvale. Now I have to... run a business? Do I even know how to do this?"
Luca shrugged casually, his smirk not fading. "Well, that's why I'm here. I'm sure you'll figure it out. I mean, it's just herbs and potions, right? How hard can it be?"
"Don't be so sure," Milo muttered, running his fingers through his disheveled hair. "What if I mess it up? What if I accidentally blow up the village with a potion? What if I ruin Grandma's legacy?"
"Oh, come on. Grandma Willow wasn't exactly a saint herself." Luca's voice was oddly comforting, but the smirk still lingered. "Remember the time she made that love potion that caused half the village to start acting... well, weird? I'm sure she'd be fine with you just, you know, doing your best."
Milo didn't respond right away. He looked over at the shelf where his grandmother's old collection of potion books sat, untouched for months. Each book had a layer of dust, a symbol of how little he cared about the family business. But now, as the new "owner," he couldn't afford to ignore it. He was expected to know how to brew remedies, heal the sick, and provide for the villagers. It wasn't just a shop; it was his responsibility.
But why did it have to be him? He'd never even liked the idea of responsibility, especially not the kind that involved standing behind a counter, brewing potions, and knowing every herb by heart. It all sounded like too much work.
Luca leaned in, trying to lighten the mood. "You've got this, Milo. I mean, you're the best at procrastination. Who else could inherit a shop and still be this chill about it?"
"Thanks for the encouragement," Milo muttered dryly. "Maybe I'll get a sign that says, 'Open for business... someday.'"
Luca chuckled, then nudged him. "You know, I've got some ideas for your first big potion. How about a 'Don't Feel Like Doing Anything' elixir? You'd be a millionaire in no time."
Milo stared blankly at him. "I think that's called 'sleep.'"
Luca burst out laughing, slapping the counter. "True, true. But hey, you could sell it as the perfect 'relaxation potion.'"
Milo sighed and picked up the dusty ledger from the counter. As he flipped through the pages, he started to feel a slight pang of guilt. The village needed the shop, and the villagers probably depended on it more than he realized. He wasn't sure what to do yet, but he did know one thing: sitting around and complaining wasn't going to get him anywhere.
"Alright, alright. I guess I'll give it a shot," Milo said with a resigned sigh. He glanced at Luca, who was still grinning like a mischievous cat. "But only because I don't want to deal with Grandma's ghost haunting me every time I skip a day."
Luca raised his hands in mock surrender. "Don't worry, I'll help you. I'm great at delegating!"
Milo stared at him, unimpressed. "Yeah, I'll make sure to 'delegate' you into the kitchen, making all the potions while I take a nap."
Luca laughed. "Deal."
As Milo set down the ledger and pushed himself off the counter, he knew this was just the beginning. He wasn't quite ready to dive into the responsibilities of being the village's new herbalist. But for the first time that day, he felt a small flicker of something other than dread. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn't going to be as bad as he thought.
At the very least, he could always ask Luca for help... as long as Luca didn't expect him to work too hard.
With that thought in mind, Milo began his first day as the official herbalist of Luminvale—grudgingly, but with a small sense of determination hidden beneath his lazy exterior.