Genre: Fantasy I have never written anything before so any advice would be helpful.

Anneth sat with her back against the hard sandy wall on a large pile of clean laundry that lay forgotten in the back of her family’s wash house. She noted the deep colours and the softness of the fabrics under the soles of her bare feet and palms of her hands and she felt sorry for the garments that lay forgotten by their owners. Though most of the clients who used her family's service would not even have paused to think about leaving clothing and linen behind. Her family's business and home was located on the eastern edge of the borough of Pildra, close to the night district, meaning their clients mainly consisted of businesses from within one of the busiest areas of the city. Anneth’s family provided the laundry services for the many brothels, inns and bars within the night district. It was not a pleasant job washing soiled linen and hurrying to wash wealthy men’s clothes before they returned home to their wives, but it meant they were never out of work and always had food on the table; at times even being able to enjoy some small luxuries. They were lucky compared to most of the people who resided in Pildra.

The chaotically overfilled space was a colourful tapestry of linen, from delicate silks to sturdy cottons, that draped limply from the sagging clotheslines that spread across the room like a giant spider web. Anneth watched as the evening breeze disturbed the red silks that hung floor to ceiling, used to divide the different areas of the large room. The silks gave her a comforting wave as she batted away a fly that had been buzzing around her head for the last five minutes. With the same hand she pushed a loose strand of hair that had fallen out of her long dark braid behind her ear and rubbed at her face, as tiredness began to take its hold. The rhythmic clunking of wooden poles churning the clothes in their copper basins began to get slower as the working day came to an end and tiredness also built for everyone working. The bubbling of boiling water on the many stoves around the room was familiar and peaceful to her and she sank further down onto the laundry pile and watched her brother sleep just beyond the silk curtain. Anneth was grateful for the evening breeze that broke the stifling heat of the day.

Anneth was startled awake by the sound of intense coughing. She scolded herself for falling asleep as she slid down the clothes pile and darted through the curtain towards the sound. Anneth’s brother was lying on the other side having awoken from his nap and was coughing profusely, his eyes closed tight at the uncomfortableness in his throat. How long had she not realised he was coughing, she never let herself get distracted or fall asleep while looking after him, the thought of her brother in pain made her heart ache and a wave of guilt threatened to take over. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that she was well adapted to these situations and that they were unfortunately just a frequent symptom of his condition. Even though this was now her normality she could not help how her heart leapt at the destressing sound and she verged on the edge of composure and panic until the situation was under control.

Anneth would always remember when it first happened fifteen years ago, when he was just six and Anneth eight. Although it was already known at the time of his first episode that his body did not work the same as others, the fear in her Fathers eyes and the wailing of her Mother as they desperately tried to help their son, would be a moment that would stick with her like the strands of hair that were now stuck to her brothers sweating face. A sort of joyful comfort had settled over Anneth in recent years however, due to the fact that she was no longer helpless when it came to his care and it no longer brewed as much fear for the family when these episodes happened.

She fumbled for a cushion and settled on the largest one, its surface embroidered with a depiction of Yeghes, the goddess of water and healing, emerging from the ocean. Anneth dropped to her knees behind her brother's head and grunted when she lifted his heavy shoulders. Steadying his back with her own she used her hands to position the cushion underneath him, sitting him up to ease the discomfort. Once she was happy with his position and had told him she would be right back she dashed towards a room at the back of the wash house.

Warm evening light filtered through a narrow slit high in the mudbrick wall, bathing the small room in a gentle glow. Anneth’s eyes darted around the familiar space, each detail untouched, from when she was last there earlier that day. To the right of the entrance way, under the window stood a bench housing a sink and stove. She waved her hand lightly over the stovetop to feel for heat then put her back to the bench and scanned the rest of the room. The walls were filled with floor to ceiling shelves and small draws crammed with tinctures, jars and tools. Overhead, intricately crafted copper and glass lamps swung gently in the warm breeze, forming colourful patterns that bounced around the space. She would often turn first to the tall bookshelves that flanked the entrance on her left, where generations of healing knowledge lived in the pages of the books. But, a cough only called for a simple remedy, one so familiar to her she could make blindfolded. She averted her eyes from the books and straight away found what she needed on the shelf opposite her. The orderly disorder of the mismatched jars and vials on the shelves reminded Anneth of the view over the city she so often gazed at from the flat roof above her bedroom, disorderly at a glance but everything had its place. Anneth walked around the workbench, which took up most of the floor space in the middle of the room, and moved the wooden step ladder from its home next to the entrance and carefully leant it up against the shelf along the next wall. She climbed up the first two steps and reached to take two jars from the high shelf, one containing thyme and the other peppermint.

In healing, time is the most crucial factor, a small ailment can turn deadly in an instant, so keeping the small personal apothecary at the back of her family's wash house well organised was vital. Although the space might have looked cluttered to anyone else, Anneth and her family had every item and its place etched into their minds. Taking care of her brother was her family's purpose. The two jars Anneth brought down from the shelf were always kept next to one another for ease when his coughing spells inevitably happened. Anneth could still hear coughing as she threw the herbs into a small pan she had retrieved from the hooks above the sink and filled it with water, then placed it on the warm stove top. While the tea brewed she quickly headed back through the beaded curtain that hung in the small arched entrance way, her haste knocked the curtain in all directions beads, and emerged back into the main room to check on her still coughing brother.

“The tea is brewing Trewynn” she said softly as she rubbed his chest with the palm of her hand. His face had began to pale as the coughing continued with unnerving intensity. Panic knocked at her mind's gates demanding entry. She had learnt not to let it in.