Tag #EleanorahStarr

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #19

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Hello Everyone! Happy New Year and welcome to 2021… I think? I hope your New Year was fun, safe, and positive, however you chose to celebrate. Did you make resolutions? How are they going? I don’t actually make resolutions. Like expectations, I think they are more-often-than-not let-downs in the end, so I don’t bother. I do turn the page, though, pack up my financials, and try to remember to write “2021.” We’re off to a rough start in many places, but here’s to moving onward and upward. That’s where I’m going. I hope you want to come along, ’cause Elahna’s got plenty of places to go this year!~

Ivy and Elahna were last chatting about family, Ivy’s kids, getting-to-know you kind of stuff. Oh yeah, and the matriarchal society part. Keep that in mind for this next chunk. It gets more in-depth 😉.

*Photo by form PxHere

I continued on, “I do miss my family, and I feel awful for how they must be feeling, not having any idea what happened to me, if I’m alive or dead, there’s just nothing for them to go on that would give them hope. But I have to admit, I am enjoying myself here. This world is beautiful, the magic is amazing and beyond what I thought magic could be, and the people… Everyone has been so wonderful, so understanding and helpful. There’s also not many people compared to what I’m used to. Is Irillo a really large city?”

“Oh yes. Irillo is the largest city in Eflary. The same is true of Rusmaar for Maarran. I don’t know which would be bigger, though. The older elven construction buildings make Irillo look imposing on approach, but Rusmaar’s High Seat is spectacular, too.”

Ivy and I continued to chatter on about our worlds, falling into an easy camaraderie to the rhythm of our horses’ easy gaits. She seemed younger than me, but I still wasn’t sure how time correlated with what I knew. I knew about erdurs (hours) in a anar (day), and that an anid is a year, but what is it made up of… how was I going to wrap my head around that? I pulled back from the spiral of that thought line to remain attentive to the conversation.

The sun felt like it was directly overhead when we found a more open, grassy area along the road to stop for lunch. There had been a good giggle as we dismounted, stumbling with pins and needles in our feet from so long in the saddle. Felicity and Revel tossed their heads and stepped quickly out of our way as we pitched and hopped about.

Then we slipped their bits and they drifted off into the deeper shade as we unpacked a snack and ate in a relaxed, companionable silence.

*Photo by Kerterui form PxHere

As we got back underway, the horses having been refreshed from the fine grass, some of the nosebag oats, and a long drink from a forest pool, I picked back up on conversation. “Are you excited to see your matris? It sounds like you haven’t seen her in a while.” I wasn’t trying to pry, so to speak, but I was curious about this family structure, and I was tired of talking about Earth.

Ivy shrugged. “Sure, it’s been an anid, I guess. We do send letters though. She likes to have news of Lignan and Heather. I will have a fair amount of time to myself, her council duties keep her occupied. I look forward to having some time in the city. It’s so different from Cragbend. I have friends here too that I visit with.”

“How long has she been on the council? Is it a lifetime service thing?”

“About quinduary anids, I think. She was appointed by the House under Regna Cercis, Regna Halesia’s mother. I actually lived in Irillo with her for a while, until my nova name day, when I was called to Rosewood.”

“So she doesn’t really get to come back to Rosewood, then?”

“Only if she wants to. Rosewood isn’t her House. My mother is a Florian, so she returns to Hazelwick in Sagebridge on her leave. I’m only an Arborea.” This last she said with her eyes downcast, like it was a condemnation.

“Only?”

*Photo by form PxHere

To be fair, I did feel some reticence at asking that, but I desperately wanted to understand why she seemed ashamed of that, and what it meant in the larger scheme of families. Clearly, I have spent too much time reading epic fantasy and historical fiction tales filled with political intrigue and hierarchy. Oh well.

The weight of my question hung like a granite dirigible over us, I actually shivered under it. Revel snorted and danced a step or two sideways, earning him a sidelong eyeball from Felicity.

I was just about to retract my question with an awkward apology when Ivy flashed the barest of smiles and blurted out, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t say that. An Elemental’s power is a blessing and a gift, as there are some who are without abilities despite their parentage. They are the unfortunate ones. I am thankful for my Arborean talents.” She raised her palm up as if in greeting. This time it appeared to be more in supplication, though. It was the first time I had witnessed any person performing something even vaguely religious, or perhaps pious. The topic of religion sparked another line of questions in the back of my mind. I was starting to feel like the proverbial three-year-old that everyone wants to shut up.

Ivy pulled randomly at the braids in Felicity’s mane, smoothing stray strands flat, then reaching up to smooth the braids at her own temples. They were dyed a rich cocoa brown, in contrast to the very light blonde of her waist length hair. She had the two braids pulled back and fastened together at the back of her head so the upper parts held the rest of her hair off her face. Tiny bells were woven into the fastenings, which chimed softly with her movements.

The audible effect was quite soothing, I noticed, as was the visual. She had matched the color of her hair braids with the light riding leggings she wore, tying all the colors and sounds of Ivy together. It was deliberate, but so representative of the little I knew about my traveling companion. If I had had to guess her magic without knowing, a tree would have been the first thing to mind.

“You heard my Unclen and Grand Matris Daphne call us Scion Arborea. House Florian is the House we belong to, the other Scion being Herball. We have abilities relating to trees and hardwood shrubs. Herballs have magics founded in herbaceous plants. Florians, though, have abilities in both areas. A child can have one of, or both, of the House talents, or be a rare paterif, as I mentioned earlier. If a child of a Scion mother has House abilities, they are said to be increased, and it can be either natural or spontaneous. A nats child’s powers are an increase over their matris’ due to the combination of both parents’ powers. A spont would be a random appearance of an increase in power in a child over the matris’ power. Does that make sense? You now explain it back to me to see if I said it right.”

I took a long moment to consider this. Genetics had always fascinated me, I studied it when I could in school, so I immediately reduces this to X’s and Y’s in my mind to chart it out. According to her last statement, though, Mendelian genetics wasn’t going to explain it all.

“So if the parents are a House and a Scion, the child would have House abilities?” I asked. That would explain an increase, was there a decrease, then too?

“In many cases, yes, you would be right. That child would be a nats increase, or nats-i, we say. There is a nats decrease, nats-d, as well. Like me.” She managed a small smile this time for her own description.

“And there are also spontaneous increases and decreases? How does each parent’s magic factor in to a child’s abilities?”

She explained that yes, those individuals did exist, as spont-i and spont-d, as did nons, those born without any ability. But like any natural system, it was unpredictable because nons could have offspring with abilities. This path was the source of the common magics, those that townsfolk have. It was more like an ability to use a bit of the vitae for a certain purpose, like stirring, or lifting, instead of the ability to use vitae at will with a specific focus.

It was a tad bit confusing, but when I pondered it as I fell asleep that night, it did make perfect sense. As much as any natural system can. There was certainly class distinction in this land, but the lines blurred often. Ivy didn’t mention any negative stigmas, no slurs or restrictions, except for the self-imposed ones I observed in her. And we all know how deep those can be. Knowing she felt that way, I was certain there would be more who shared the sentiments, whether in private or in the open. I would be paying close attention to this facet of society, especially since I was a true Ungifted, which was not even at the level of a nons.

If she ends up having to stay, at least Elahna has an idea of where she will fit in—at the very bottom of the society ladder. To be expected, of course, but how would you feel about being in that position? It was difficult being around so much magic and not being able to use any, but as we will see later, I made up for some of it. Drop me a comment below, let me know how you would handle it 😊.

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The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #18

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Hello Everyone! Happy last day of 2020! Whew, it has been one crazy, long, convoluted trip of a year. It will be a relief to turn the page and begin writing “2021” on everything.

How was your December holiday, whichever one you celebrate? To be honest, it was a quiet, very subdued Christmas and Christmas Eve here.

My brother, who I share a house with, tested positive for COVID-19 on the 13th, and just when he would have been cleared to come out of quarantine, my nephew tested positive as well, the Monday before Christmas. It was a lot of passing food from down here to them via an outside table, and heavily disinfected gift exchanges. Symptoms have been very light to non-existent for both of them, very thankfully, and the rest of us here have been negative. We have been fortunate, and it left us with a Christmas we won’t easily forget.

I hope you are safe and healthy where you are, with a fun plan to ring in the new year! Me, well, I’ll be sleeping, early mornings aren’t as conducive to late nights anymore, and my dogs are insistent 😆. But I have a great book picked out for the evening!

Ok, enough about reality, let’s get back to the fantasy, right? Happy New Year! Do better 2021!

Elahna and Ivy were heading down the lane away from Rosewood when we last left them, let’s rejoin them as they head through Cragbend.~

*Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

The little town was just getting moving as Ivy and I headed toward Venrood Forest.

The healer was out in his gardens, harvesting and weeding. He raised a palm in greeting as we passed.

*Photo by pablopablo90 form PxHere

The early morning sun cloaked everything in a golden hue. Townsfolk were loading wagons with goods and produce to take to the market, and the sounds of bells on the mill horses’ harnesses signaled the start of the sawyers’ day.

I knew this trip through the forest would be much different than the previous one. But that wasn’t a bad thing, either.

Revel and Felicity settled into an easy trot that gave Ivy and me the ability to still talk. She seemed a bit withdrawn, so I tried to re-lighten the mood by picking up the conversation again.

“How come Lignan didn’t just come with you to Irillo? Is the city a bad place for a boy?”

“Oh no, not at all. He came with me anid-last, and his patris collected him on the way home in Illedale. He travels well. Egan has a surprise for him this time, though. A horse of Lignan’s own for his name day gift. He has outgrown Ebony this past anid, he has put on some height. It was Egan’s idea to bring the new horse up with him to collect Lignan, that way they would have the whole ride back to Spark Island to get acquainted. I wish I was there to see his face, he will be thrilled.”

*Photo by form PxHere

“Aww, that’s so sweet. How far is it to Spark Island?”

“It’s tertia to quarta anar south to Flame Harbor, then they have to take ship over to the island. They should make pretty good time with dua strong horses, though. It is much needed time together for them. Egan will see how much work Lignan needs to do with his emotions. His Spark-ness is revealing itself more and more.”

“Daphne said much the same thing about his letter yesterday.” She shot me a narrowed look. “Are Sparks dangerous or something?”

“Oh, yes. His plea letter. I apologize for that. I’m afraid I do coddle him some to keep the impulsiveness under wraps, but it doesn’t always work. They aren’t dangerous, as in evil, but they are fire-strong, so they tend toward quick decisions, rash judgments, fast action, dramatic emotions, that sort of thing. I found it impossibly alluring when I first met Egan, he was all heat and motion, very different from the placid coolness of the trees and forest. I only learned better once Lignan came along. Then I made sure my dual child was of a more tranquil nature. Lignan is a bright light, he just needs some instruction, that’s all.”

“How long will he be gone? You and Egan don’t live together, ever?”

Ivy turned and cocked her head at me, “No, why would we live together? I’m an Arborea, I belong in Rosewood, and Egan belongs at Scorchpoint. Rosewood won’t even allow him inside. It could never work.” She actually looked mildly horrified at the thought. “Do you live with the patris of your children?”

It was my turn to be awkward then. “No, but I don’t have kids, either. But most people in my world do live together as families, parents with children, that is. They raise the children together.”

“We raise ours within the matris’ house. Everyone in the Seat contributes to their upbringing until they reach nova, then they petition the House that fits their abilities. If it is not the same Seat they grew up in, they then leave and become part of the new Seat.”

“But it is always through the mother’s, oh sorry, matris’ line? Does a child ever go live with their patris’ family?”

“Only in the case of a paterif, or line jumper, and they are quite uncommon.”

“That is fascinating.” I grinned. A society not inclined toward a patriarchy! Finally, someone realized the logic in maternal heredity and they weren’t afraid of it. I could definitely live here!

*Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash

I was completely enthralled with the idea of a matriarchal society, and I wondered if the human land Maarran worked the same way. It sort of had to, I imagined, since they were two halves of the same continent. And Daphne did say they intermingled freely. I was losing my desire to return home really fast.

We talked on, and I learned that Ivy’s dautris was with her patpa in a town in Maarran called Duskreach, the home of the Fairmoon scion. (Which also answered my unspoken question—the human country Maarran was matriarchal as well.) The Seat name was Mesonox, and she described it like it was a permanent planetarium, it sounded truly celestial.

*Photo by form PxHere

The girl was beginning to exhibit talent with night-blooming plants and fungi even though she was only quarta. I could tell Ivy was apprehensive about this, and then she confirmed it when she said they would be making a trip next anid to Violetmere to introduce the girl to that Seat’s gardens and hothouses, which contained such species. She was already preparing mentally for her dautris’s departure in quinta anids.

No where in this discussion of children and families had the word marriage come up, but I decided to leave that alone for the moment. Ivy seemed to need some topic re-direction, or perhaps a bit of time to regroup.

I turned my attention to Revel, patting his sleek gray neck. I remembered this stretch of farmland from my ride with the Bluebirds, and noticed new stacks of hay in the fields and rows ready for gathering. A herd of large, chocolate brown cattle grazed in a lush pasture along the road, barely lifting their heads at our passing.

We met several freeholders on their way to Cragbend, one with a barred cart of squealing piglets behind his produce wagon. Both horses flattened their ears at the ruckus and quickened their pace for about a quarter of a mile to leave it well behind.

Despite Kaval’s misgivings, I was finding the half-saddle, stirrups and blanket combination to be quite comfortable. I found it amusing to be riding in sandals as well, remembering my riding instructor when I was twelve and her insistence on shoes with heels to prevent my feet from sliding through the stirrups. This way felt much more natural. I could be a seamless part of Revel’s effortless strides.

We were approaching the edges of the forest when Ivy spoke again. “You must have so many questions, Elahna. I was just thinking to myself what it would be like to know nothing about this place we are riding through, yet being sent to Irillo to try to find out how to get back to your home. Is it frightening at all? Is your world very different? Do you miss it?”

I smiled at her, wanting to say something to continue the conversation, but my mind was a tumble of differences, better-thans, gripes, and misgivings. I settled for simple answers to start with.

“I do have questions. Many, many questions, but I can’t just ask them all up front. I’m enjoying learning as I go. I was nervous, certainly, when the Bluebirds first found me, but their warm, casual manner made me forget about it. My time with your, well, at Rosewood, has been just as supportive and welcoming. I am surprised and happy that everyone I have met so far has been willing to talk, or explain what I don’t know. Including you. It wouldn’t necessarily be that way in my world, on Earth. Well, not in my country, at least. Yes, my world is very different.”

*Photo by form PxHere

“I’ve heard it said that your world doesn’t have magic. Is that true? How do you get things done if there is no magic?” Ivy was settling into herself now. I would be glad for the full bottle of fruity smoothie to whet my throat.

We passed from the fragrances of freshly cut hay and sun-dried stacks into the scents of woodland moss and leaves. The dappled shade of the road nearer the trees offered some relief from the brilliance of the sunlight. My eyes were stinging and burning like I had been looking into LED headlights for hours. Sunglasses. I did wish I had my sunglasses.

*Photo by Herbert Goetsch on Unsplash

“That’s right, we don’t have magic like here, but we do have something called technology. It’s based on sciences and allows us to do most anything we need to. My world is vastly different from yours here. I don’t know if I can describe it to you.”

I struggled a bit with what to say here because I didn’t want to belittle the beautiful place I was in. Honestly, I was hoping she wouldn’t ask me to explain in detail, but if she wanted to know specifics, I would do the best I could. And probably end up with a headache for it.

I’ll pick up with my reply next time, this is a good place to stop for now. Hooray for getting underway! Irillo, here we come!~

The first part of the journey has already yielded one of the most important facts about Huphaean society—it is matriarchal. Elahna obviously loves that fact, what would you think? Drop a comment below and let me know what you think about Elahna’s discoveries today. And there’s much more to come!

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The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #17

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Hello Everyone! Wow! It’s been a while since the last episode, but if you saw the MIA post, you will know why 😉. But there is creative work to be done, so I am pushing ahead to regain a posting schedule once again. I hope this missive finds you safe, healthy, and looking forward to a festive holiday season. 🎄🕎❄🎅🏼

We last left Elahna slumbering in her rooms in Rosewood the night before she is to embark on the journey to Irillo. She is supposed to meet Ivy Arborea in the kitchens “sometime after seisla.” Let’s pick up the story there and see what the morning has in store for her.~

Photo by form PxHere

Morning dawned bright and crisp. I opened my eyes to the insistent, musical notes of a purple martin singing on the branch outside my window. He remained there, peering in at me as he trilled, until I swung my feet to the floor; then he disappeared in a flash of indigo, his task complete. I smiled, shaking my head as I opened the pocket watch and checked the time—just after 5, well, quinta.

“Thank you, Rosewood, that was the loveliest alarm to wake up to.”

The leaf shutters rustled in answer. I stretched and began my routine and preparations to leave.

Rosewood, somehow, was much warmer than Alexa or Siri, or any of the AI’s we have now, even though I suppose it was potentially more pervasive. I can’t quite describe it, but I was never disturbed that the manse could potentially know anything I did. There was no creepiness of being spied upon or listened in on, it just was. Right there is a statement—it all has to do with intent, doesn’t it?

The yellow stones, (sapphires maybe?), led me to the kitchen wing.

*Photo by form PxHere

Ivy called out as I passed the open door to a small room set up like a café.

There was a dark, butcher-block table set out with baskets of rolls and breads, crockery jars of butter and jams, wedges of cheese, baskets of eggs, plates of bacon, a bowl of beautiful fruit, carafes of juices, and the accoutrements for coffee or tea. Five or six sets of tables and chairs filled the room opposite a raised stone hearth, where a small fire burned.

Ivy sat holding a cup of something warm between her hands. Coffee, I determined as I laid my pack beside hers at the door and greeted her.

No mittens for Ivy, though. *Photo by form PxHere

“Sleep well?”

“I did, yes, deeply I’d say. And I was woken by the sweetest purple martin outside my window. You?”

She smiled and put down her mug, “Yes, I did, and he woke me too. Rosewood must have sent him to me first, knowing I would need more time to extract myself from Lignan. Help yourself to the spread, and don’t be afraid to take some extra for the journey if you want. We won’t see Sawyerset until this evening.”

I helped myself to some bread, really wanting to make toast, and then I realized what the raised fire was for. A few minutes later, I had an entire cooked breakfast of eggs, a couple slices of bacon, and perfectly browned toast. The little flame was hot, precise, and cooked items perfectly with only a pass or two through it on a thin metal plate or the grilling grate. Faster than any gas stove or toaster.

I sampled a dark red juice that turned out to be a smoothie, and decided I would be filling my corked bottle with that for the ride. It was an amazing combination of berries, I guessed. It would be perfect for a summer picnic lunch.

We finished our food and packed our extras away. Ivy eyed my rucksack as I kept stuffing things into it, and its shape never changed.

“A spelled sack, great idea. Especially since you will have to wear it the whole way because Revel is so touchy. I’ll help you settle it on your back before you mount so it adjusts to you and feels weightless. I should have thought of that myself.” She frowned a little at her saddlebags, which were obviously spelled as well, with the amount she was stuffing into them. “Perhaps I can find one in Irillo for the ride home.”

That excellent spelled rucksack! *Photo by Alex Azabache on Unsplash

“How long are you staying there?”

“No idea. Matris summoned me, but I’m not sure why. Perhaps she is just lonely for the country, though, and for Arborea news. She’s on the Eanneadic Council, so she has to spend most of her time there advising the Queen. But I know she misses the quiet of her home outside Irillo. And she knows my young ones are with their patres, so it is the perfect time for me to go.”

We reached the stable then, and I thought to mark the place in that conversation to pick it up again once we were on our way.

Arlen danced out to meet us, and I could hear whistling along with the slicking sound of a horse being brushed. Kaval had Revel and Felicity out, tacked, and waiting for us in the main aisle, running a last brush over their coats to make them shine.

“Ah, there you are. Right on time. Arlen woke me early, said you’d be heading out afore septa, so I got them ready for you. She’s assured me they’ve promised to get along and be proper. I don’t want to be let down.” The last was said with a pointed look at Revel.

He handed us a couple nosebags of oats for the long afternoon stretches, and we swung up onto the horses out in the yard. My pack really did feel like nothing more than a sweatshirt on my back once Ivy adjusted it properly. She placed the oatbags in there as well, and it shifted a bit, but never registered any more weight. I’d had no idea the backpack could do all this when I bought it, but I was very glad I had gone back for it. And thankful to Daphne and Aymur.

We said ‘Elements be’ to Kaval, and trotted down the drive. I noticed Ivy glance up to the middle of the manse and blow a kiss to a small figure in a window. Lignan, I guessed. He held up his hand, then turned quickly away.

And so we were off! I remember feeling nervous, but really happy to be moving along toward some answers about my situation. And I REALLY wanted to see Irillo. I’ll leave it here for now, Ivy and I talked a lot on the ride, so there’s lots to tell of what I learned from her in the next few segments. It won’t be long until I post next, I promise!~

What did you think about my comparison of Rosewood to our in-home AI’s? How would you feel about that type of situation? Drop a comment below and let me know, and thank you for your patience during my hiatus. It means a lot!

Remember to subscribe to Collata ⚡, the Collection of Huphaea newsletter. In it I give extra insights into this land of Sentients and magic—nuggets I forget to include in the episodes, or other fun facts. Collata ⚡ is usually a monthly newsletter, so no clogged inboxes from me. Click the button and become a Nightingale today!

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The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #16

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Hello Everyone! Does it seem to you that the months go faster as we approach the end of the year? October has vanished, which means I’ve been too busy to notice it. We have had some odd weather for New England, but also some perfect fall days, which I am thankful for. The foliage colors have been vibrant and long-lasting, as long as there is no wind. But here we are on the week leading up to a full moon on a Halloween Saturday!

*Photo by form PxHere

I wonder how many people still have that candy that appeared in the stores in July…

This is another audio only episode, a continuation of the last and lots of dialogue with not much to illustrate, so audio is the better format. I enjoy making the audio episodes, I hope you find them fun too. Enjoy your week, and Happy Halloween and Samhain. Trick or treat!~

The last audio episode had Elahna returning from a day in Cragbend to meet a Sentient horse, Arlen and become embroiled in a horse-horsemaster disagreement. Arlen won; no surprise, really, she knows her business. Elahna had returned to her room afterward to freshen up for dinner, so we will pick it up there….~

Click the orange arrow to play episode 16…

That was quite a dinner, right? The food in Huphaea was always incredible, it is one of the things I miss most. Do you think Elahna and Ivy will gel on the ride to Irillo, or will it be awkward? At least the horses seem to have things sorted out, thanks to Arlen. I never did find out how young Thorn made out, but I would wager his days got a whole lot more regimented. I have to say part of me wanted to stick around to see his mother, Larix, just because of how Daphne made her sound. But I had bigger things to tackle. It will be on toward Irillo next time!~

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The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #15

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Hello Everyone! Welcome to October. Falling leaves, pumpkins and cornstalks, long sleeves, and Halloween candy are now everyday sights. Here is a photo of my nephew’s roadside stand here at our farm:

He grew the pumpkins himself, from field prep to harvest, with his own equipment—he’s thirteen. He’s done pretty well so far, weekends clean him out and he has to restock. Proud aunt here!

This episode will be audio only. I haven’t done audio since the very beginning, so it was time to brush off the mic and put it to use. This segment is also dialogue-heavy and I thought it may work better in audio form. I hope you enjoy it, I had fun reading it for you. Be well!

We left Elahna on the road back to Rosewood Manor from a day in Cragbend. She had just seen some color-changing frogs in the clutches of children under the bridge. This episode includes more animals, but before I give anymore away, hit the PLAY button below and give it a listen. Then let me know what you think!~

Click the orange arrow to play episode 15…

What did you think? How would you have reacted, and would you want to ride a Sentient horse? Arlen was magnificent. Honestly, every Sentient I met was, but the horses were extraordinary. How do you think Revel will do on his first real excursion? Let me know how the audio was, and if it worked well, especially with all of the dialogue. I’d love to hear from you!

Quill & Orb Press, (the fiction part of my word services business), is open to do developmental edits and copyediting for YOU! Fantasy, paranormal, YA, historical fiction, steampunk, and other genres welcome.

Are you an indie author? I’d love to work with you!

Line editing is coming! I am finishing courses as we speak and will be offering it later this fall. If you’d like more information about line editing, or the differences/distinctions between the three types of editing, head over to the website here:

Quill & Orb Press editing

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The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #14

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Hello Everyone! Aime here, I wanted to start this post by saying Thank You to all of you for following my story. It means so much to have your support for this bit of creativity that flows out of my overactive brain. It is what keeps any writer going and putting out content on any given day. You are the best! Now, here’s Eleanorah…

Hey Everyone, nice to see you back! I hope autumn (or spring, as it may be) is treating you well. Here, it is painfully dry, we are in a moderate-to-severe drought and plants of all types are suffering. Thankfully, it is nearing leaf-drop anyway, so the colors New England is famous for are progressing, a bit more quickly than normal. Things change color overnight, and wow, the poison ivy is spectacular! Here are a few pics I took while walking Dash a mile down the hill from me:

sugar maples in color

I do love fall, though I fight to hold on to the summer sun, and this weekend should be perfect for that. I may have to start doing rain dances, a couple rainy days would be welcome. Landscaping is slowing down, so that means more time for writing and maybe a couple other ideas as well…. Anyway, let’s get back to Cragbend and Elahna, it’s much more fun there.~

We left Elahna after she had just purchased that sweet new rucksack. I miss that bag, I wish it had crossed back with me, but of course it couldn’t. What’s next in her day? Ready to find out? OK, let’s go!

Back out on the main road, I turned right, back toward the clock tower. A sign with a pink frosted cupcake caught my eye, and I remembered Aymur’s comment on peach tarts. I pushed open the bright blue door and entered the North Pole of sweet shops. It smelled of spun sugar, birthday cake, and chocolate. My mouth began to water like Pavlov’s dogs.

Sweetnic’s sign

“Elements be, aye fla, what sweetnics can I tempt you with?”

A thin man with wavy hair that resembled fudge in a bowl hailed me as I entered. His apron was stained with smears of icing and jelly in every color, and powdered sugar coated the backs of his fine-boned hands. I wondered how he could possibly be so slim working in a place like this all day, but then I noticed the huge sacks of flour and sugar, and barrels of fruit that lined the walls and tables of the bakery. If he mixed them all, he wouldn’t have time to eat! But wouldn’t there be magic at work here too?

“Elements be, Aymur Arborea told me I had to have a peach tart from Sweetnic’s before I left. Am I in the right place?” I smiled as I looked before me at the cooling pastries and cookies.

In the back of the shop, a young man stood waving his hands over a long table where a lengths of rainbow colored candy writhed and twirled in response. It was like watching bolts of cloth being drawn and cut into ribbons. When he had the lengths at a certain size, he spun his wrist around and the candy twirled into unicorn horns, or knots, or balloon-animal shapes. Then he stuck a cinnamon stick or a waxed cord into them. A small girl next to him plucked them out of the air and put them on racks to cool.

Photo by form PxHere

The man before me chuckled a little, drawing my attention back. “Why yes, you are! Aymur stops in for a peach tart every time he’s in town. Is that all you’d like?”

The tiny cakes and chocolate truffles winked at me, I swear, and the cookies flashed their dark, molten chips at me. But I resisted and replied, “Yes, thank you, but I will take two, if I may? Are you Rennay?”

“As you like, fla, yes, I be Rennay, crafter of all that is sweet. Who might you be?” He answered in a pleasant tone as he wrapped two flaky, pink sugar-coated tarts and handed me a thin, foil bag. The foil was warm as a baking sheet, but the warmth did not linger on my fingers after they left the bag.

“I’m Elahna. I’m a guest of Lady Daphne for a day or two. How long will this stay warm?”

“How long do you need it to? Certainly through tomorrow morning, if you can make them last that long. You can replenish at my kinsman’s shop in Sawyerset, though, so no need to draw out the delight.” Rennay winked at me, he knew just who I was.

“Thank you, ok, I will do that. Do you make all of this yourself?”

The selection of baked goods and poured candies was incredible. Most pieces looked to be individually crafted, but the amount of time that would take would be impossible. Rennay must have magic he uses.

*Photos by form PxHere

“Yes, with my sontres and dautris, dua of whom are there,” he waved at the back of the shop, “and the tertiar is out on errands. I have other helpers when they are occupied at their matris’s or in Sawyerset.”

“So you have magic, too.” My statement wasn’t really supposed to be heard, but I guess I said it aloud.

“Oh yes, but not a lot, we aren’t Elementals, but for simple things like mixing and shaping, common talents that help us in our lives and trade. Like Toscan is doing there, spinning candy.”

“I see. Everything is so beautiful. I would hesitate to eat it because it looks like art or toys.” I saw a slight frown quirk his lips, and I hastily continued, “But I’m sure I would forget about that once I tasted it.” I smiled again, hoping to bury the slight I must have given. Ugh.

Now, I can see where that comment might have caused him to frown, but it was true! The cakes looked like stuffed bunnies and chicks, fluffy and bright yellow and white, with ribbons around their necks and whiskered noses. The candies resembled packages, animals, other food items, and celestial bodies. If I didn’t know they were confections, I would have thought they belonged on a shelf, or in a child’s toy box.

I paid for the tarts and agreed to convey tidings to Aymur.

Back at the clock tower, I noted the time as one-thirty to me, so half terdecca? Still loads of time, and I really wanted a quiet spot to process all I had learned that morning. The sound of the water wheel caught my attention again, so I followed the lure.

The road past The Cleft Barrel was subdued compared to the bustle of the Sagebridge road. On the right, I passed a tidy cottage framed by fenced gardens that teemed with color and vegetation. The sky blue sign had a rainbow in an upper corner and a mortar and pestle front and center.

The Orderly’s sign

Ah, probably the Orderly. I slowed and recognized many of the plants as healing herbs. Bright purple scapes of lavender, tight carpets of mother-of-thyme, and bold leaves of castor bean stood out as I wandered past, along with scents of mint, chamomile, and anise hyssop. In places, the unruly plants covered the pebbled paths, but in others, the herbs were cut neatly revealing rich brown mulch.

*Photos by form PxHere, except thyme image credit Alan Levine on PxHere.

A pedestal that looked like a small altar stood in the center of one of the blocks; I had noticed similar pieces in front of other buildings too. It could easily have held a sun dial or other garden ornament, but something about the individuality of each one I had seen suggested religion, or honor. I stopped then and looked around—there was no church-type building in the center of town, where I would expect one to be. Nature worshippers, perhaps?

Past the Orderly’s property, (which I noted had every square inch planted with herbs or edibles of some sort), there was a thin trail that wound off into the grass. The building before me was a mill of some sort, with the luring water wheel splashing off seconds in the sparkly river.

I followed the trail which ended on the riverbank. Setting my pack down under a small tree, I collapsed in the grass on my back.

*Photo by form PxHere

I laid there for a few moments listening to unfamiliar birdsongs and inhaling the earthy scents to the backdrop of the waterwheel’s beat. Everywhere I went there was a vibrancy, a vitality and a positivity that permeated the air, even.

I could only describe it as the feeling you have on the first day of vacation—so full of energy, promise, activity, confidence— you know that feeling, right?

When my senses could hold no more sensations, I sat up and retrieved the foil pack. It was still oven-warm, the tarts soft and light in my hand. Aymur was right, it was an amazing peach tart. I wanted to scarf both of them down in a sticky, sweet minute, but I only ate half of one and re-stowed them.

My new rucksack should have been quite full with all I had stuffed inside, yet plenty of room remained, and it wasn’t heavy to carry at all. Bespelled again? Most likely, but I wasn’t complaining. This magic here certainly had its advantages. Ungifted though I was, I would employ it in the forms I could!

After a brief nap, I stretched and faced upstream, toward the mill. No sound of giant stones grinding together reached me, only that of splishing water, so perhaps it was a wool or textile mill.

*Photo by form PxHere

Beyond that, the river widened way out into a pond, or a bay, if such could be on a river. I heard shouts every once in a while, and could see patches of color moving around, which I assumed to be people. They appeared to be moving around in familiar patterns, and then I saw a large boat—a barge?—creep into the middle of the bay. It was a large, flat vessel poled on either side by a man, away from me and the mill. Then a team of horses, big draft horses, emerged from the shade of a copse of trees on either bank. There must be another town upstream that they were returning to. Rennay had mentioned somewhere called Sawyerset on the road to Irillo, perhaps I would find out tomorrow.

I watched the activity upstream for a while and decided it must be a wood mill, which only made sense with Cragbend being the Arborea Seat, and the predominance of wooden construction everywhere. Occasionally I caught a slight scent of wood shavings, or burning wood, so that must be it. But where there didn’t appear to be electricity here, it would all be hand-sawn work, or magic. Like the woodworker with the carriages. Yes, magic.

I indulged in a quiet couple of hours by the river before heading back to Rosewood Manor.

As I crossed the bridge over the river, I saw three young children under the bridge, catching frogs and squeezing them to make them turn colors.

It was actually quite entertaining. I stopped on the bridge to watch them. The frogs were great fat things, and when squeezed, if they didn’t belch or emit fecal material to the boys’ delight, they turned any random shade of color. And if they were squeezed again, the color would change.

I’ll leave it here for now, the day isn’t over, but my trip to town is. See you next episode!~

A backpack that never fills up? What student couldn’t use that? I do wish it could have crossed back with me. The heated foil was super handy too, you could have warm bread whenever you wanted. Would you have done anything different in a new town? Comment below and let me know.

In some other news, Quill & Orb Press, (the fiction part of my word services business), is ready to do developmental edits and copyediting for YOU! Fantasy, paranormal, YA, historical fiction, and other genres welcome.

Are you an Indie author? I’d love to work with you!

Click here for a list of genres I review, and other services I offer:

Editing by Quill & orb Press

Or click here to contact me directly:

Contact me

Want more info about life in Huphaea? Sign up for Collata⚡, The Collection of Huphaea newsletter! Nightingales get some more inside bits about my time in Huphaea, and other news on my writing and related interests. Once a month, so no cluttered inboxes, just a snippet here and there. Join the Nightingales, Eleanorah’s troupe!

Subscribe to Collata⚡!

©2020 Eleanorah Starr and Quill & Orb Press. All Rights Reserved.

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #13

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Hello Everyone! If you are here in the US, hopefully you had a splendid Labor Day weekend and are coming to terms with summer drawing to a close. I am not there yet, still holding on to sun, the hammock, and sandals. Obviously, I’m not in Colorado, and if any of you are… just wow 😲. I don’t know how I would handle that crazy temperature and precipitation swing, but I know my Akita would be happy! Schools are resuming all over the globe now, fingers crossed that we aren’t back in lockdown again because of it. Stay safe, and don’t get sucked in by the Halloween candy already in the stores (for several weeks now 🙄)…

When we last left Elahna, she was in between the baker and the boys who stole some bread. Remember the thrown rolling pin? Okay, that’s where we will pick the story up…~

*Photo by form PxHere

“Thorn Arborea! I’ll be having a chat with your grandess! You can be sure of it!” The baker recovered his implement from the dirt and started brushing it off. Then he noticed me standing there a bit astonished.

“Consarned boys. They’re nothing but trouble, those three. But mostly that Thorn, he’s aptly named. ‘Bout time he was sent off for some ‘prenticing, that’s what I think. A bit too stuffy for my like, he is.”

“Do they do this often?”

“That’s the quarta time this anos. I haven’t said anything to Lady Arborea to this point, just to him and the matres of the other two. That will change now. Quarta’s the number of preparation, and young Thorn needs a reminder. That’s my part for the future.”

“I wouldn’t blame you at all. Typical teenagers, but annoying nonetheless.” I turned back toward the shop with him. He shot me an odd look, but held the door for me to enter.

Photo by Corinne Kutz on Unsplash

Breads and cakes filled every possible surface within the bakery. A woman with dark hair piled on top of her head and bare arms white to the elbow with flour glanced up as we came in.

“He got dua loaves,” she said, shaking her head.

“I know, I’ll head to the manor when this bowl is cut and stored.” He tossed the dirty rolling pin into a soapy sink. I took in all of the various baked goods and tried to keep from drooling. “Now then, what can I help you with?” He managed to force a slight smile in my direction.

“Um, well, how about one of those large cookies, and one of those round breads?”

*photos by pxhere.com/

I hadn’t meant to get anything here, but I felt compelled to, given what I’d witnessed and how the baker had confided in me.

“Of course.” He wrapped my selections in brown paper and placed them on the counter, looking at me expectantly.

My cheeks heated some and I withdrew the pouch from my pocket. Time to own up to my ignorance and hopefully not be robbed.

“I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with the worth of these coins and pearls. Can you tell me what they are worth and what I owe you?” I dumped the contents into my hand.

The baker’s eyes widened for a split second and then he looked at me with a clear, steady gaze. “You’re the Passer, are you?”

The woman’s head shot around again, but her gaze softened and she moved to the sink to wash her hands. She stepped to the counter still drying them as he replied, “Well, you have enough here to buy yourself a room at the Barrel for a good few aneks, I dare say. Here, I’ll break down una of these golds so you can be more comfortable buying.” He took a box from under the counter and started counting coppers out.

“See, these are called holecops.” The woman held up a copper with a hole in it. “That bread you have is una holecop plus seis coppers, and the cookie is seis coppers, so the total is dua holecops.” She waited for me to take that in.

“Ok, thank you. So one holecop is the same as twelve coppers, er, or however you say it. I can remember that.” The man replaced the box and now handed me many more coppers of both sorts, six holecops and twenty-four coppers. My pouch was going to be much heavier now.

“Holecops are represented by this,” and she pointed to an X with three lines across it. “And coppers by this,” which was a plain X.

I learned the other symbols later, this was enough to get me through the day though, as they said. I thanked them again, and as I turned to go, I noticed something moving in the huge bowl the woman had been working over. Two wide paddles plunged and folded the white dough though she was nowhere near it. I stopped and stared, then caught her grinning at me as she retrieved the paddles and set about kneading once again. I gave her a sheepish smile back and left.

How cool would that be, to make your kitchen tools carry on without you? Imagine how much I could get done! It seemed like magic played some part in everyone’s everyday lives.

The house across the road turned out to be a wood turner, with everything from utensils to bowls to banister tops displayed in and outside of his shop. There was also a tailor, and a country store of sorts, where you could buy flour, salt, bicarbonate, lye, and the like to make what you needed to. The open market I saw from the tree-top occupied a grassy field beyond the tailor, and obviously served as a secondary town center. People congregated in groups talking, laughing, and browsing. I hesitated, not really wanting to be noticed, but the bright colors of tunics and the smell of worked leather warmed by the sun drew me in anyway.

I meandered through the market noticing many, many items I would love to have. The market reminded me of the craft fair my mother’s church held every fall. Tables and cart beds brimmed over with handmade items of clothing, cookware, linens, cured meats, vegetables and fruits, hot popped corn and honeyed nuts in paper sleeves, decorations, and knick-knacks. I knew, though, that most items in this market were practical and for everyday use; the market was the shopping mall of this era.

I saw cast-iron skillets in sizes from one egg to half a pig, and in innumerable shapes. And on top of that, I overheard the iron-worker tell a burly man, (perhaps a tavern owner?), that he would re-form anything to any shape desired. Really? After seeing the woodworking done on the Bluebirds’ wagons, I would be keen to see metal workers.

My pouch was bursting with coins and pearls, I swear they were burning a hole on my hip where it rested. The baker had indicated I carried a small fortune in there. It was difficult, but I reined in my shopping-spree eyes and settled for a very few practical items that I didn’t feel guilty buying—a second set of undergarments woven from the softest, finest linen, a deep purple leather thong with a wooden pin affixed to the end of it for pinning back my hair, and three of the largest, darkest blood oranges I had ever seen. The fruit itself was the size of a size three soccer ball, and so dark inside that it was nearly black. Each would easily be two meals, but after tasting the sample the grower gave me, I could not resist.

Earth’s small versions of blood oranges. *Photo by form PxHere

“Pardon, would you have anything I could store the unused portion of the fruit in to keep it fresh? I can’t possibly eat a whole one at once, and I will be traveling for a few days.” I was hoping for a bag or container of some sort, or that she would point me to another person who had such.

But instead, she took the oranges, tossed each one into the air individually, froze it there, and encircled her hands around it without touching it. Then she let them go one-by-one and returned them to the bag. She held them out, “There you go, those should keep for an anek, if you need.” The bag itself was woven of grasses and was cool to the touch.

“Thank you, elements be.”

I now had several parcels of different sizes and shapes to carry, which was getting awkward. I would need a backpack or something to carry my few possessions in on the journey to Irillo, so I stood for a minute in the trodden center of the rectangular space and assessed the vendors for who might have such an item. I had seen some beautiful, cinched oilskin sacks at the leather worker’s earlier, and decided that would be the most sensible thing to have; then weather wouldn’t be as much of a concern, if inclement weather during the day was really a concern here. A truly unfathomable thing for a New Englander like me, but it would be a welcome relief!

A similar pack to mine, but not quite. *Photo by Alex Azabache on Unsplash

I left the market with my purchases safely stowed in my new oilskin backpack. The body of it was of a richly dyed navy leather with russet straps, ties, and cord stitching. It had a cinched top with a buckled cover flap and oiled canvas straps that seemed to adjust to my shoulders by themselves. I thought to ask if it was spelled to fit comfortably, but decided natives would already know that, and thanked the crofter again. I was very pleased with my practical self, and hoped Aymur would approve of how I used the money as well.

I’ll leave it there for now, I will continue wandering around Cragbend next time. There’s more to see and do here!~

I was dying to know what would happen to Thorn when Daphne finds out about his activities, she seemed like someone not to cross. It was hard not to go crazy in that market, would you have been able to keep the spending down? I wish I still had those garments, they were so light and comfortable. What would you have purchased in that situation? Leave a comment below so we can talk about it!

In some other news, Quill & Orb Press, (the fiction part of my word services business), is ready to do developmental edits and copyediting for YOU! Fantasy, paranormal, YA, historical fiction, and other genres welcome.

Are you an Indie author? I’d love to work with you!

Click here for a list of genres I review, and other services I offer:

Editing by Quill & Orb Press

Or click here to contact me directly:

contact me

Want more info about life in Huphaea? Sign up for Collata ⚡, The Collection of Huphaea newsletter! Nightingales get some more inside bits about my time in Huphaea, and other news on my writing and related interests. Once a month, so no cluttered inboxes, just a snippet here and there. Join the Nightingales, Eleanorah’s troupe!

subscribe to Collata ⚡!

©2020 Eleanorah Starr and Quill & Orb Press. All Rights Reserved.

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #12

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Hello Everyone! There’s a cool breeze wafting in my window as I type, it feels sort of like—I can’t say it—fall? Yikes! It won’t be long now until I put the pool away, but while the sun is still warm, I’ll be out in my hammock. I hope all is well with you in your corner of the world, and let’s get on with the exploring, shall we?

When we left Elahna, she had just returned from her trip to the top of Rosewood Manor. Let’s see what other mischief she gets herself into.~

back in my rooms…

I stopped back in my room, since Rosewood had so conveniently deposited me there, thinking to grab stuff for a day in town, but then I remembered I didn’t have anything! What an odd feeling. The summer-appropriate clothes I wore had all been given or loaned to me these past three days, I had no personal supplies and no money. Indebtedness was adding to the anxiety I chose to bury in discovery. I’d have to sort that out soon. I hoped the queen would have some ideas of how I could be useful while I was here. Hopefully one that didn’t involve indentured servitude or work camps…. So far this society didn’t feel like a cruel, vindictive one, but I shouldn’t get my hopes up.

For now, I was glad I had been practicing ‘living in the present’ and being concerned with what I could control at any given moment. And oddly enough, right now what I had to control was time. Oh, the irony…

In the back of my mind, yes, I was worried about what my parents and brother were thinking. Especially since I was sure someone would have discovered my car left there in Vermont. I hadn’t really said where I was going, though, cause I wasn’t sure myself. My bike would be harder to find, but if my mom remembered that I was seeking a rumored megalith someone was bound to know where I would end up. It would look so much worse than it really was, I felt awful at how scared and upset they would be. I was also glad I hadn’t yet gotten the puppy I was planning to.

After a quick re-set of my hair in a ponytail, I decided to find Aymur before I left the manor. Perhaps he had a time-keeping device I could borrow for the day so that I didn’t miss the evening meal. On my way back out the the door, something caught my eye on the side table. A small green pouch and a silver disc on a chain sat with a card bearing my name.

Once again, the generosity of these people left me speechless. A few metallic clinks sounded from the pouch, but there was more in it than that. I took it over to the bedspread and upended it, not knowing what to expect. Four copper coins like to quarters with holes in the middle, four white pearls the size of an eraser, two pink pearls a bit bigger than the whites, an iridescent bauble with sides (a dodecahedron?), three gold circles like O-rings the same size as the coppers, and two silver crescents about half-dollar size tumbled out. Well, this would be interesting, hopefully I wouldn’t overpay too much for a tart.

*photos from pxhere, except three gold rings from Deena England on Unsplash

The pocket clock was simple yet striking. The silver cover clicked open when I pushed the tiny catch and revealed a flat dial with numbers one to twenty-seven in a circle. The transparent bronze arrow in the center spun around and sprang to a stop at half ten. I wondered what kind of stone the arrow it was, I’d have to ask about that too.

I swept the money back into the pouch and put both items in my pocket. I still had erdurs before dinner. Time to explore Cragbend!

As I left the manor I encountered the young boy, Lignan, from the night before. He stopped so that we didn’t have to walk through the door together, holding it for me, and I could have sworn I heard a mumbled “Sorry for what I wrote” as I passed. I nodded slightly in thanks and continued down the cobbled apron onto the dirt drive. Moments later, he ran past me and off toward the horse paddocks.

Image by Roger Bradshaw on Unsplash

The walk to Cragbend proper took about half an hour. I crossed an ornately carved wooden bridge at the Sawyer’s Run Inn that put me in view of the crossroads. Most likely that was the river’s name, which would make sense, given the barge scene I saw from the treetop. The smell of roasted vegetables and meat surrounded the inn, making my mouth water. How could I be hungry after the lavish breakfast I’d had? But man, that smelled heavenly.

People nodded and smiled, sometimes palming a greeting. I returned it, trying to hide my observation of ears and other elvish features. I wondered how many of Cragbend’s citizens had elemental powers and how many were, what did Daphne call them, Ungifted? Was there animosity between the Gifted and non? She didn’t seem to indicate it, but then again, she obviously had gifts aplenty, so why would she. I’d have to try a little sleuthing of my own.

Cragbend clock tower

A large stone clock tower outlined with dark wood in Tudor-esque style marked the center of town. It was one of the few stone items I had seen so far here. The smooth facade gleamed cream with pink streaks in the bright sun. A large, triangular shaped crystal of the same bronze stone as in my pocket clock glinted in the clock face, pointing just after the eleven. It still felt like the days were the same length as home, it was so hard to tell when my frame of reference was gone.

There was something remarkable about the sun here. The light it gave off was of an intensity that made me expect it to be unbearably hot, but it wasn’t. It felt like a June summer day in New England, no humidity, perhaps around 80 degrees. Was that the weather workers’ doing? How much did they have control of? Did they plan a week’s weather (um, an anek’s weather, I should say) like a menu? When did it rain? It must be frequently, with the lushness of the land and the healthy haystacks I noticed. I had never felt so unknowledgeable before.

So many questions I had, can’t you imagine? No, I didn’t have an escort or anything, I didn’t need one. No one mentioned any threats or things to watch out for. Kind of telling that’s what we think of first, right? Come to think of it, I hadn’t even seen any guards in Rosewood Manor. I guess with a living house that could help when it was needed, people defenders were unnecessary. I’d hate to think what that house could do to an intruder.

The field next to The Cleft Barrel stood empty, the Bluebirds had moved on to their next stop. I felt a pang of sadness at that, but it was replaced by the hope that I would see them again someday. Maybe the other Madrigal troupes too, so I could compare all of their shows. Perhaps a festival. Surely a society with such amazing performers would hold festivals, right?

Since I knew the road to the right headed back to Venrood Forest, I took the left fork. One of those many pointed signs indicated that somewhere down the road were places called Sagebridge, Arrowbreak, and Crescenton. I wondered what they were like. Were they family seats, too? I could hear the rhythmic splashing of a water wheel not far away, and maybe the grinding of millstones? The scents of cooling bread enticed me as I passed a bakery, no wonder as plump baguettes filled racks just inside the windows. Even the carved sign of a steaming loaf above the door looked good enough to eat!

Photo by form PxHere

Just then the door of the bakery flew open and three boys scampered out, a stout baker hot on their tails. As the boys rounded the corner toward me and the road, the one in front, a black-haired boy in green shirt and gray knee breeches, reached in the window and snagged two of the baguettes. They took off down the street in the direction I was headed, hooting and laughing. The baker’s rolling pin clocked the slowest boy in the back of the shoulder, but he did not slow.

Photo by form PxHere

Wow! That was a surprise! And there I was, caught in the middle! We’ll find out next time what happened 😉.~

And there it was, the first bit of mischief or dissent that I had witnessed since arriving. I did feel bad for the baker, but it was a great throw of the rolling pin! The money, though, I wasn’t sure what to make of that, it was so different. I’ll tell you what I learned about it next time. What would you do in a new town in a new world for several hours? Drop a comment in the box below and we can talk about it 🙂.

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The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #11

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Hello Everyone! I hope you are all well and staying safe. We have been in the grip of some brutal humidity, but that is just an excuse to use the pool more 😆. Hard to believe it is August already, and the Halloween candy is already in stores? I can’t even… Let’s get back to exploring Rosewood, shall we?

We left off with Elahna finishing her climb up the redwood that took her to the top of Rosewood Manor. She emerged into the sunshine, and… (this is one of my favorite parts, I remember it so vividly!)~

Remember this view?*

I sucked in a sharp breath and dropped to my knees, terrified now that I was the tallest point on the tree. My head swooned and spun, my breakfast threatening to reappear.

That would be way too much of a shame, it had been wonderful going down, I had no desire to ruin the memory.

I crouched within the tips of the branches, stilling my mind and heart, breathing deeply for several moments. Slowly, I lifted my eyes from the floor. My fear had paralyzed me so that I hadn’t noticed the size of the open room around me.

A circular floor, complete with a knee wall, balanced on the tree top like a newsboy hat. Three clusters of plum-colored rattan chairs and side tables and two chaises were arranged haphazardly, colorful pillows tossed here and there. Beyond the furniture all I could see was sky.

The unease that danced beneath my ribs in lurching, fluttering steps sucked in all of my attention, inhibiting me from lifting my hands off the comforting floor. Maybe this was a bad idea. How long would it be before Rosewood alerted Aymur, or worse, Daphne that I was incapacitated up here?

I hung my head lower, about to give in to defeat when a slight tingling flowed up my arms, as if urging me to rise. Soft rustling began to my right and I glanced back to see branches flowing toward me. Their soft, lime green fronds caressed my bare arms, while the woody parts snaked around my waist and legs. The tree was providing me with a safety harness!

Photo by form PxHere

Once I was firmly, but gently wrapped in live webbing, I noticed the warm cedar-like fragrance of redwood filling the open air. My mind began to still and I inhaled deeply, using the serene scent to quiet my stomach and nerves.

The tree nudged me again.

I leaned back onto bent knees and raised my eyes to the limitless ceiling of the deck. Ever so slowly I stood up, the living harness adjusting with me, always providing reassuring pressure to my torso and legs. The Seat wanted me to see its grandest view and was providing comforting support, I had to oblige.

The vista of a verdant countryside cut through by a platinum ribbon rolled to the horizon.

Venrood Forest stretched below, vast but short in stature now. A few barges topped with golden stacks of planks emerged slowly from the trees and were hitched to what must be draft horses, but looked like ponies, to be guided into the mill pond. I turned, intending to look down on Cragbend itself, and made my way around the furnishings to the opposite side. My harness loosened and shifted with me, giving me confidence with every step.

Cragbend was a bucolic hamlet at ground level, from the air it resembled a Thomas Kinkade painting.

The river narrowed after the mill pond and continued to wind through the town, bisecting it neatly. People moving on the main road resembled ants, some driving carts to an open air market on the upper side. Smoke curled from chimneys and water wheels sploshed. I glanced at the sun, it still had a way to go until high noon, (what did Daphne say that hour was called, mezzanar, I think?), I still had time to wander once I was done up here.

Past the market, the road ran out of town again, lined with shops and smaller farmsteads just like on the forest side coming in. I wondered where it led to, deciding to ask Aymur for a map later.

As I stepped away from the edge, the wall receded to knee height again. I approached the stairs leading down, and the harness twigs slid silently away.

The redwood scent lingered, however, even to this day I can recall it when I need an extra bit of courage or peace.

I placed my hands on the deck as I passed through the floor and whispered, “Thank you, that was truly amazing. I couldn’t have seen that view without your help.”

Rustling like maracas answered me, along with a warm pulse under my hands. I smiled and ducked below the platform once again.

This time fiery garnets glowed when I reached the circular juncture, directing me down through an immense beech tree that deposited me at the end of the hallway my room was on.

How cool it would be to grow up in a tree! One thing I knew for sure—acrophobia was not part of an Arborean’s makeup!

Yes, how cool would it be to grow up in a tree? You see now why I remember that morning so vividly. I was paralyzed with fear, yet able to witness that grand sight. It was breathtaking. Would you have been able to stand up on top of the tree without help? I won’t forget that sight, nor several others that we will get to later on. Next episode, we will head into Cragbend for a taste of everyday Eflarian life!~

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*photos used are free for use from pxhere or unsplash.

©2020 Eleanorah Starr and Quill & Orb Press. All Rights Reserved.

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #10

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener 1 Comment

Hello Everyone! Here we are at episode 10, I’ve made it to double digits! I wasn’t sure if I would be able to keep on schedule, and figured that ten would be a good round figure to judge by, but here it is, and I’m enjoying it a lot, so I’ll keep going. I hope you are enjoying my recounting too. And it is almost August—whoa, how did that happen? Make the most of your last month of summer (for those in the Northern hemisphere, that is). I am slated to return to playing soccer next week, and I just purchased a lovely hammock for backyard reading time with the dogs. It’s been hot here, but so much more comfortable reading in a hammock. I hope you make some time for your favorite activity this week!

Last episode we had a delicious breakfast with Lady Daphne Arborea, and got some indication that going home may not be so easy. Elahna also fell prey to some mischevious tree dryads. She was on her way back into the manor to do some exploring…

**This episode has a lot of descriptive elements that I can’t find pictures of, or draw that would do what I saw justice. My hope is that I can describe it well enough that it comes alive in your mind too. Not so many pics this time, is what I mean. Let your imagination do the illustration, that’s my hope.~

Rosewood Manor’s unique and ever-changing floor

Back in the main foyer, I examined the floor scene again. I blinked my eyes several times because I would have bet my last dollar (if I had any!) that the water in the stream was flowing lazily. Gemstones glittered up at me, daring me to follow them to the reaches of the manor. When I looked up, having made my decision, Aymur was approaching me, a bemused smile on his face.

“What catches your fancy, may I ask?”

“The water in the floor scene, I swear it flows over the rocks. Is it real?”

His smile broadened some, “No, it’s an illusion created by the vitae of the house. Quite realistic, isn’t it? We are never sure what will appear when the seasons change, it’s always different. One autumn it was a giant pile of sugar maple leaves. Try finding the red, orange, and yellow markers in that. We were all cross-eyed for anos!”

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

“Am I really allowed to go anywhere in the Manor? I mean, I don’t want to end up in someone’s bedroom, but I am dying to go up the stairs.”

“Of course, be my guest. Rosewood will redirect you from private quarters anyway, so don’t worry about being nosy. My personal recommendations would be the tiger-eye and aquamarine paths, though.” He stepped aside and gestured toward the stairs.

“Funny, I had just decided on the tiger-eyes. Thanks!” I headed for the stairs, but then stopped and turned back when I heard Aymur speaking. His back was to me, but no one else was there.

Oh, possibly. I’m sure Aymur did have his own dryads. But I think he was talking to the Manor. His hushed tone was that of scolding a small child, like he was telling Rosewood not to mess with me too much. I remember laughing to myself at that moment, cause here talking to ‘yourself’ with no device in your ear or person present is likely to get you strange looks, but there? Nope, it was totally normal. I was kinda bummed that I couldn’t see the fae spirits, or talk to the houses. But I got used to others doing it around me. It was just one of those things.

My impression the previous night had been that the giant staircase formed the back of the main hall. As I walked, I realized that it occupied the center of the ground level. The forest floor scene continued on past the stairs for a distance equal to the front half and ended in a wall of four sets of leaf-outlined double doors. Arches indicated two more hallways off either side, leading away into yet deeper parts of the manse.

The immense, forked-trunk staircase was so large it exuded a presence. It began as one, split to encircle a third, arrow-straight leader, and rejoined at the landing. The treads were smoothly carved into the heartwood, and revealed captivating streaks of red, orange, brown, and gray. The outer edges retained the craggy bark of an ancient oak. Branchlets wove together to form a balustrade on the balcony and stairway, dotted here and there with the guiding gemstones.

The tiger-eyes took me up the right flight, then right again and along a limbway that included short sets of steps. It ended as a sitting area that faced that arm of Venrood Forest I had seen from the road.

The room was open to the air, with a short knee-wall of leafy branches all the way around, and an increased density of slender twigs as a ceiling. The tawny wicker furniture held pillows in various shades of yellow and pale pink and sat around a woven, goldenrod hued rug. It was breathtaking. I wondered if the sun set, or rose in this direction.

I approached the edge, as close as I dared to go, (being horribly afraid of heights), to get an idea of how high in the canopy I was. The knee-wall rustled and stretched in height, getting taller the closer I got.

Wow! What an ingenious feature!

Of course! There were small children in the Seat, so responsive walls would allow them to be anywhere, no matter their age or curiosity level. I appreciated it as well. The queasiness in my gut lessened and I leaned on the now-chest-level wall, looking some fifty feet or more down. Above me, twice that remained, the leaves shimmering in the late morning sun. Acrophobia be damned, I was going to the top.

Back out in the limbway, the aquamarine markers glowed brighter than any other. I was being baited like a mouse with cheese, but I didn’t care.

Up and up I climbed, the stairs getting shorter and the halls smaller, but clearly ending in rooms or suites. I was still within the branches of the colossal oak, though I knew this particular one would not take me to the very top, it wasn’t tall enough. As if in answer to my musings, the sun-dappled corridor shrank notably in width and the limb ended against a circular, deck-like structure.

The decking grew out of the giant redwood trunk it encircled, the silvery inner wood heavily lined and shining like polished granite. Natural colored nets woven of multi stranded string formed the walls of the radial juncture.

It was like walking inside a pair of fishnet stockings, though I was sure this particular weave would lift an elephant if necessary. With no knee wall here, I fought the sickening urge to look down and kept my eyes on the gems in the center of the floor.

Photo by Andrés Canchón on Unsplash

Several other hallways extended off of the platform in various directions. Redwood trees have a much more radial structure than that of the rambling oak, and because of it, I would not get to glimpse any suites that may be nestled in the giant evergreen.

The markers led me partway around the trunk and then onto an external staircase that spiraled up. I thanked the tree for the hand-sized banister and continued to climb, my stomach in my throat. Three more platforms fell away below me before the branches became smaller and more dense. My legs were aching and my hands shook with the phobia, but I swallowed it down and pushed through the foliage into warm sunlight.

Photo by Hrt+Soul Design on Unsplash

I’ll stop here for this time, cause I remember the feeling I had at the top of that immense tree, and it still wipes me out! It needs its own post, for sure. See you soon! ~

Rosewood Manor is quite the place, right? I suppose it could be a bit creepy sometimes, but it always seemed more helpful than anything. I sure appreciated those responsive walls. I never saw Rosewood in autumn or winter so I’m not sure how it looked when the leaves were off the deciduous trees that made up the manse. Maybe they didn’t fall, but just turned color. It was such a cool place to live, made me wonder about the other Seats, what they were like. Would you want to live in a place like Rosewood Manor? Leave a comment below and let me know!~

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