Hello Everyone! I hope you are enjoying the last remaining days of summer, or perhaps you are urging fall on? I admit to being conflicted this year myself. Usually I am dragged kicking and screaming to summer’s end, refusing to put on socks and shoes and long pants until my feet are freezing and the days top out at 60°F. But this year has been such an odd summer filled with soaring humidity and high heat, that I secretly (or not so anymore!) may be looking forward to fall. I feel like a blasphemer to my sun religion, but it just hasn’t been pleasant. Perhaps a move to the British Isles is in my future after all. 😆
Either way, enjoy the last of your season, wherever you may be, see you in September!
We left Elahna and Ivy in the last episode just as they were about to enter the capital city of Irillo. It was getting on in the evening, so they were making steady progress, but not taking it too quickly, for Elahna’s sake….~
More of the same birches that housed the guard huts created an elegant allee over the South Road. Taverns, inns, hostels, and eateries resided under their airy canopies on the right side of the wide expanse, inviting travelers and locals in for refreshment, lodging, or trade. Lodgings Quarter catered to any and all tastes, apparently. Benches sat at various intervals for the weary. Posts and rails for hitching horses to became more ornate as we progressed into the city.
The Verdant Quarter, on the left side, showcased homes and shops, each one fronted by lush, manicured gardens. Some made use of large urns or containers of various materials to hold the colorful blooms and greenery, while others exhibited raised beds. But each property enclosed their display within a fence of some sort. It left an unending trail for the eye to follow.
Just before the arch, the road had become a cobbled thoroughfare in the myriad natural shades of river rock. Worn smooth and flat by traffic, not a weed grew in between the stones. The middle of the road was clearly reserved for horse and cart traffic, while those on foot stayed to the edges, a courtesy to all involved.
Revel’s ears had pricked upright in attention as we passed under the arch, and now they swiveled constantly. This, however, was the only sign of agitation I noticed. The rest of his demeanor was calm and confident. He seemed to take the strange noises, scents, and traffic in close quarters in stride, like he’d done it before.
Every few houses, a child stood with a deep-sided pan that had a long handle and a finely toothed rake or broom. I puzzled about them to myself, until I saw one boy dart out after a mule cart passed and sweep up the dung the animal had dropped. Then he ran ahead to a three-sided stone bin about half the size of a cart, dumped his pan, and scampered back to his post. No wonder the streets were so clean.
Ivy caught me watching. “You’ll see street tenders on all of the main roads. It’s a way to instill pride in the city and a sense of responsibility for our surroundings and creations. At the harvest fair on the equinox, one tender team is awarded the Bronze Broom for keeping their street or road the cleanest, as voted by the citizens. There is fierce competition between the youngsters, especially those chosen for posts on the North and South Roads.”
I raised an eyebrow at her, somewhat in disbelief. “Really?” I asked.
“Yes. Each child is given a rake and a pan, but many actually make their own to try to keep their stretch of road as clean as possible. Oxen make a dreadful mess, as do drunkards. These children will be here just after dawn to clean up from the night before. It gets intense.”
“You speak as though from experience. You didn’t have to do that, did you?”
“I did! For dua summers, before my Choosing Day. Matris was did not want me excluded from things just because she sat on the Council and I lived in Forelore. That’s why I still have so many friends here in Irillo. I don’t regret una moment of it. And North Road won the Bronze Broom both those years.” She smiled widely, two elegant dimples appearing on her cheeks. She appeared wholly pleased with herself.
I couldn’t help but smile with her. I liked this land more and more each day.
Most of the buildings followed designs or styles I was familiar with; single or two story structures, sometimes three stories, of stone and wood. But here and there a slender, curved, or rounded one would sit between angular neighbors. These elven buildings were exotically beautiful, constructed of a flatly iridescent metal-like material that changed color depending on how you viewed it. With the sun setting off to the left, the shadowed sides appeared emerald green, while the sun-facing walls shone in coral and pink. Black iron woven in intricate patterns accented the windows, which were of any shape imaginable, and filled larger, blank wall spaces.
They were a perfect mixture of elegance, beauty, and persistence.
“Before you ask, not much is known about the ancient elven architecture. Otherwise we would have replicated it for sure.” Ivy said. “The material is a magically-enhanced mixture of crystal and aluminum, that much we know, but no one can decipher how to make it. The scholars think it was forged deep in the mountains using the underground vitae, though no methods or spells have ever been found that explain how to do it.”
“An entire city of that would be dazzling! How could our eyes stand it?” I remarked.
“Wait until you see Forelore, then. Be prepared!”
Since it was fully evening, we saw many empty carts or those filled with empty crates and baskets heading out of the city.
People waved and called out to one another and mothers held onto small children when they were on the road. Faces of every shape, size, and color laughed, smiled, and scowled. Hair colors and styles ranged widely, from bright rainbow or pastel colors to silver, smoke gray, black, and honey gold. I focused on ears for a bit, trying not to be too obvious, and found those to vary as well.
If Irillo was any indication, this was a highly mixed populace. I would stick out for my pure humanness.
The South Road cut a wide swath through the city as it ambled toward a bridge and what I assumed must be the palace Forelore ahead. I glimpsed roofs of deep hunter green and bits of fiery red beyond them. Color could not be overused, evidently. I felt like I’d stepped onto a giant’s painter’s palette.
Maybe I wasn’t far off. There could be giants here, for all I knew.
Yes, you are right, it was evening and the color was still that vibrant. I was eager at that point to explore the Verdant Quarter just to see all of the plants, and I thoroughly enjoyed it when I did. My ramblings in Irillo always seemed to bring me there. I do wish I had a better depiction of the elven architecture, but I don’t. I’ll do my best to put it into words though. 😊 We’ll leave it here for today, see you next time!~
The birch allee atthe beginning of the South Road was stunning. Huphaean paper birches get very large in girth, unlike many we see. It was impressive and elegant, and set the stage for an entrance into an ancient city. What were some of your impressions of Irillo at first glance? Let me know in the comments below 👇🏼❗
Want more from the land of Huphaea? Become a Nightingale! Use the form below to subscribe to Collata ⚡, The Collection of Huphaea newsletter. Can’t wait to see you there!👇🏼
Hello Everyone! I’m writing to you today from my ark… We have been in the clutches of a rainy weather pattern for the past two weeks and it is beginning to take a toll. Our heavy clay soil holds water like a sponge, which makes farming very difficult in these conditions. Our corn is only half planted and it may be too late now to get the other half in the ground, if it ever dries out. 🌧🌧🌧😞😞
How is July treating you? Here’s one for you— I saw Halloween candy in the grocery store this morning. 😧 Seriously? Perhaps it should just become a permanent display, Halloween candy is out more than it’s not! There’s so much that needs to happen between now and Halloween, does it have to be rushed? (Can you tell this is one of my pet peeves?) Anyway, let’s hand it over to Eleanorah and continue the tale, shall we?
We left off with Elahna having gotten a bit of a talking to by Ivy, but not in a negative way. Ivy was patient with her narrow Earth mindsets, but gave Elahna something to think about as an alternative. Venrood Forest is now behind them and they are closer to the capital city, Irillo, than not. Let’s pick it up there.~
We stopped briefly to water the horses at a stream that ran alongside a vast pasture that appeared empty.
Half a mile further, we were brought to a halt by a large herd crossing the road. All grass-fattened steers to my experienced eye. Out of the blue, a cluster of the beasts broke ranks and surged toward us. Hooves and horns gouged the air in excitement.
“Oh, shit!” I shouted, wondering if that was a word here. I had heard similar words said with vehemence, I should remember to ask about them.
Ivy shrieked as well, and I felt my legs clamp around Revel’s sides in near-panic. He tossed his head and wheeled on his back hooves, enough to avoid the foremost steer, then skittered out of the road into the drainage ditch that ran alongside. I just managed to keep my seat on his back by seizing fistfuls of his mane when he reared and squeezing my legs to his shoulders.
Two red and white dogs streaked down the sides of the road, outpacing the cattle and setting up a boundary in front of them. Within minutes, the dogs had them turned around and trotting back to rejoin the rest of the herd.
Revel’s ears stopped twitching, as did his shoulder under my knee when I relaxed and settled back on the blanket-saddle. I smoothed his rumpled mane and patted his neck, praising his quick feet and him for staying relatively calm. I spotted Ivy up ahead on the opposite side of the road. A cocoa-skinned man on an equally brown horse faced her.
I trotted up to them as their conversation continued, with Ivy clearly annoyed. “Ah, they know somewhat’s up. That one with the upturned horns has been on high alert since we grouped all the steers together a few aneks ago. I apologize again, Miss Ivy. You sure you’re all right?”
“Yes, I’m quite fine, just a bit janked,” She replied. The man winced slightly at her words. “Elahna, are you hurt? Where did you go!”
“Revel managed to avoid the initial rush and got us into the ditch out of the way. I managed to not fall off. We’re both fine, though. I hate it when cattle do that. All it takes is one with an idea.”
“Aye, that’s the truth. I’ll bring more dogs with me for the drive tomorrow. It’s off to the finishing fields at my fratris’ for this lot. I won’t hold you lasses any longer. Again, my apologies, and I’m thankful you’re all right. Safe travels.” He nodded and raised his hand in farewell.
“My thanks, best of luck tomorrow to you. Elements be.” Ivy spurred Felicity into a light canter to get us back on our way.
I was very thankful Revel was so nimble and that he reacted quickly. I’ve chased plenty of cattle and being in the path of many out on a tear is not advisable. Especially that lead steer the man mentioned, that one had something in mind…
When she slowed back to a trot about ten minutes later, an intersection was visible ahead. Traffic had picked up the last mile or so and now I could see why. The sounds of other travelers punctuated the air, voices, hooves, and the creaking of wooden wheels.
“Here we are, the Fulcrum Road,” Ivy said, throwing off her bristly air from the cattle encounter. “About dua erdur*, and we’ll be in Irillo. You’ll be able to see the city once we crest the rise over there.” She pointed to the left, the direction most of the traffic was coming from.
Then she reached up and withdrew an amulet from under her tunic, letting it rest on her chest. It was a replica of the spreading tree emblem I had seen many places at Rosewood Manor. A third of the tree was brown without leaves and the other two thirds were vibrant green with tiny, real leaves. It was enclosed in a circle of forest green and hung on a leather cord.
Scion Arborea sigil
“That amulet is lovely. I hadn’t noticed it before. But I saw that tree all over at Rosewood. That looks so real, though.”
“It’s a scion sigil. Each Seat member has one, we just don’t always display them. And it is real. These are pieces of Rosewood Manor itself, bestowed upon me on my Choosing Day.” She brushed the little leaves with her thumb in illustration. “Let’s go along, shall we?”
“Of course.”
Though our pace slowed some out of courtesy to the others on the road, we reached the top of the gentle rise within half an erdur. I gasped aloud at my first sight of the capital city of Irillo.
It wasn’t large like I am used to, but it was magnificent.
We were riding into the lowering sun, so the details fuzzed in my vision. Again I thought forlornly of my sunglasses. Glints of light sparkled off the spires Ivy mentioned and off the river in places. Two large complexes towered over the other buildings, one in the center and one further back and to the left. Domes and tall towers characterized these fixtures in a manner foreign to anything I knew or had seen yet in Huphaea. That must be the ancient elven architecture. It was stunning.
I didn’t have much time to gawk at the city because of the number of carts and travelers on the road with us. We folded into the flow down the the back side of the rise, which was quite a bit steeper than the front. I kept glancing at Ivy, wanting to talk about what I was seeing, but the noise made conversation challenging.
Just then, the thunderous roll of many hooves moving fast, accompanied by startled shouts and shrieks filled the air. Revel snorted and tossed his head wildly, his eyes rolling and showing white in fear.
Oh no, I thought, here comes his test.
I focused my attention on him and guided him further toward the edge of the road, if only to get out of the way. Like you do for an emergency vehicle with its sirens on. Others were doing the same and a lot of the animals behind us appeared spooked or downright terrified. I slipped off Revel and grabbed his bridle, tugging him well away and into the thin border of trees that lined this stretch of road. I turned us to face out and saw Ivy heading through the throng trying to get to us. Felicity appeared rattled as well.
A party of seisla mounted men in forest green vests and black trousers with green trappings on their horses cantered up the rise. Occasionally one of them barked an oath for someone to move, but it wasn’t cruel, just reinforcing. A copper-haired man rode at the front of the group, his bearing one of almost regality. His short cape was bisected with the same shade of green and burgundy.
He abruptly reined in, causing his striking silver bay horse to rear slightly and toss its head in annoyance. He nudged the horse in Ivy’s direction and hailed her.
I couldn’t hear the words exactly, but I did hear him address her by name. She had all she could do to hold onto Felicity, who was tossing her head and hop-skipping around Ivy in an attempt to pull her reins free. Something about him must be what frightens the horses so.
Then suddenly, Felicity fell quiet and stood placidly by Ivy’s side.
They finished their conversation and I barely made out his farewell and “I’ll let Zelkova know you will arrive shortly.” He trotted off, the riders following in his wake, but not before I glimpsed a blood red tear drop in the center of his forehead.
It had to be a tattoo, for the color was so vibrant it could only be ink of some sort. What an odd place for a tattoo. And an odd tattoo. It also must have really hurt.
He must be someone important, for the way his companions deferred to him. For that matter, the people on the road seemed in awe of him, too. A prince, maybe?
*anek = week, anar = day, anos = month, anid = year, erdur = hour, dua = two
I’ll leave it there for this time, bet I piqued your interest, huh? After being on the road alone, or relatively so, the increased traffic was different and I began to get a bit anxious. I was looking forward to exploring Irillo, though, even from this vantage point it was beautiful and interesting. Until next time, then, Elements be!~
Oooooh, a mysterious man! And why was he spooking the animals? We will find out next time. What do you think about the first glimpse of Irillo? Don’t worry, you will get plenty of description of the city when we get there, it’s truly one of my favorite places ever. Take your guesses about who the mystery man is or why he makes animals afraid below, I’d love to hear your ideas. 👇🏼🤓
You can join Eleanorah’s tribe, the Nightingales, and get extras from Huphaea in her newsletter, Collata⚡! Fill out the form below and then watch your inbox once a month, usually on the 21st, for the next issue. Come on, join the fun!⬇
The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day. Post your thoughts on your own blog. Talk about your doubts and the fears you have conquered. Discuss your struggles and triumphs. Offer a word of encouragement for others who are struggling. Visit others in the group and connect with your fellow writer – aim for a dozen new people each time – and return comments. This group is all about connecting!
Let’s rock the neurotic writing world!
Our Twitter handle is @TheIWSG and hashtag is #IWSG.
April’s question is: Are you a risk-taker when writing? Do you try something radically different in style/POV/etc. or add controversial topics to your work?
When I first glanced at the prompt I thought “No, I’m not a risk-taker in my writing.”
But then while pondering it further, perhaps I am somewhat. I don’t think of it as risk-taking, more like trying to make myself stand out in the sea of fantasy writers and bloggers. Building an audience is all about standing out and getting noticed, as is all the marketing I do for my freelance editing business. And is standing out risky?
It sure can be.
Well, it is to me, as I’m sure it is to many followers of this group (the word ‘insecure’ is what draws us together, right?). But it is also something I MUST do if I want to be a successful business owner and author.
Like many fantasy authors and game players, I have created a fantasy world where my stories will take place.
I say ‘will’ because they aren’t written yet. There. I said it. I’m going to write stories.
Even saying this feels risky to me. I’ve just put it in writing that I’m going to write novels. What if I never get to?
Honestly though, I have enough of the story on paper that there is no way I can’t write the books now. I’m dying to.
On to risk number 2. The blog series is written in the first person, from the perspective of the narrator who is doing the traveling, but she is telling the story to an audience (the readers) actively. Throughout the narration she ‘breaks the fourth wall’ and talks to the audience, giving them candid info about the scene or episode or answering questions they pose to her (the questions are implied in the answers).
It’s not a typical construction, but I need it to be more than boring blog posts talking about a fantasy land. It needs a purpose, a reason, and to be more conversational. What’s more conversational than someone discussing their travels to a foreign land and answering questions about it? It works well enough for me writing it, I can only hope it works for the reader.
Risk number 3. I suppose some of the idiosyncrasies within my fantasy world could be considered risky. For example, it is a matriarchal society. Heredity is through the female line for rulers, family lineages, and names, and the offspring remain with the mother’s family until they are at least 9. Marriage exists, but it rarely happens. There is no reason for two people to be only together.
There is no worship system, no houses of worship, no gods. Only what the people interact with on a daily basis- sky, earth, sun, moon.
I have a difficult time terming these points as ‘risky’ because it is fiction, and fantasy at that. There is the real risk that some readers won’t identify with it enough to read it, which is ok. That’s what target audiences are for.
Risk inherently implies that there is a reward. I am rewarded when I write the story and see it come to life on the page, and I can be rewarded if readers consume it and enjoy it also. Growth and change come about through risk. Without it, it can be difficult to move forward in life, business, career, in many things. Maybe my risks aren’t earthshattering, but for me, they still seem large. And I’ll keep taking them.
Hello Everyone! Daylight savings time has ended in my corner of the world, and that means evenings are useful once again! Ostara is around the corner, too, marking equal day and night length. The energy of the season is rather frenzied, my animals are ecstatic to be spending more time outside without ice.
In other news, I’ve been working on a couple of short stories for contests and an anthology. They are both set in Ereth, I’ll keep you updated on how they do and where you may be able to find them in the future.😉
The next issue of Collata⚡ comes out this weekend, so if you want to see what being a Nightingale is all about, join us with the link that follows the episode. Hope to see you there!~
Elahna and Ivy had just made their way upstairs to their rooms at the end of the last episode. That is, after a healing soak in the hot pool and an unexpected proposition. Elahna was surprised and sheepish, Ivy rather unimpressed. What will the morning bring? Let’s find out!~
I woke the next morning to the sounds of creaking and then a splash, which made me sit bolt upright. My head outpaced my body some in the movement and I clasped it to slow the bobbing images, then fell back against the pillow. I hadn’t had cider in some time, apparently Lissa’s batch had more of an effect than I had thought it would. But at least the splash hadn’t been directed at me. I sat up, slower this time, and peered out the open window.
Below, Scosy was drawing water from the stone well, transferring it into a large wooden cask that sat on a low cart.
The air was heavier than the evening before with the distinct earthy tang of evergreen forest. Tendrils of ground fog threaded through the tree trunks beyond the inn’s grounds. I fumbled in my discarded clothes for Aymur’s timepiece. It showed being in the fifth erdur. Well, at least I hadn’t overslept.
I watched as Scosy finished his task, hung the well bucket on a hook next to the winch handle and set off toward the stables with his bounty. It was good to know the horses would be well-tended before we left. Time then to see about myself.
After a meager breakfast of two glorious slices of toasted homemade bread with butter and some dark fruity jelly, I made a visit to the stables to check on the horses. Scosy hurried in when he saw me enter, a stricken look on his face.
“I wasn’t sure when ye would be settin’ out, miss, ‘pologies for not havin’ ‘em ready.” He grabbed for Revel’s stall door, but I held up my hand to stay him.
“Morning Scosy, no need to scramble. Ivy has to look at the center tree, we will be a bit yet. I trust he’s been good for you? No trouble?” I nodded at Revel, who munched contentedly on some extremely fragrant hay.
“Oh no, miss, he’s been a peach. No trouble at all.” His words trailed off as he shifted to look around me at something outside.
I turned to see Ivy striding across the yard toward the road and the center tree, I assumed. Scosy didn’t even seem aware of my presence any longer, so I stepped back out of his way. I recalled Lissa’s comment last night about the boy’s infatuation and felt a pang of sadness for him.
I trailed after Scosy, who lagged well behind Ivy as she strode toward the center tree. It was a magnificent specimen of a planetree. The camouflage colors of olive, gray, cream, white, and sage green cloaked the massive trunk in ribbons of brightness amid the morning shadows. Lissa hurried out the front of the tavern, joining Ivy, who gazed up at the canopy.
A stoutish man in a busy red, black, and green plaid shirt and caramel-colored trousers approached at a determined pace from the upper right of the Shoe. His sleeves were rolled to the elbows and the open buttons of his shirt allowed a forest of dark hair sprinkled with wood shavings to precede him by two inches at least. I had to stifle a giggle behind my hand. The man must be furred like a bear under the shirt, I thought to myself, but then quashed the idea, because what if there were bear-men here? Bigger curls of wood and more shavings clung to the canvas panels tacked onto his trousers above the knees. He must be a finish carver or something, definitely one who works wood with tools, not saw blades.
He nodded a brusque greeting at Lissa and the few other townsfolk who had gathered, setting the unruly nest of wavy hair on his head bobbing. “Elements be, Miss Ivy, well met. Lissa said you’d be out to have a look at our tree afore you set out. I’m much obliged.” He brushed wood dust off his hand after raising it in greeting.
“Elements be, Porter. Has there been something ailing the tree recently? It definitely appears less vigorous than I would expect.”
“We dealt with a bout of anthracnose last anid, but by autumn, it was looking well again.”
“This tree has a dryad, am I correct?” Heads nodded.
“But no one’s seen her for a while. The lads have been out in the forest blocks, I just haven’t had a chance to ask them to speak with her.”
Ivy nodded once in understanding. “I’ll try to get her to come out so I can ask her what she knows.”
I stepped closer to the gathering, but still on the outside edge, and watched Ivy place her palm against the trunk. After a moment, she stepped back, her gaze following something I couldn’t see. Then she gasped and held both her hands out as if to catch a baby bird.
I glanced around at the others in the group, whose faces all had tightened with concern. But they looked at Ivy and not her hands, so I surmised they couldn’t see the dryad either.
Ivy cocked her head slightly and said softly, more for her audience’s benefit than the dryad’s I wagered, “Show me, what ails you and your tree?” Her lips firmed into a line as she studied her hands, then she looked upwards into the canopy. “Is there an air weaver in town that can float me up?” She fixed Porter with eyes that brimmed with urgency. “She is very weak, but she shows me tunnels and chewing. There must be borers somewhere. I need to go up and look.”
“Ah, yes,” Porter pivoted to face Scosy. “Lad, run and find the Verticx chap. They may not have left for the blocks yet. Hurry!” Scosy jolted into movement, his gangly limbs propelling him down a side lane into the forest. “Is she in any danger?” Porter continued, “Can we do anything?”
“Do you have an Orderly? Some ginseng would help her vitality. We may need to make poultices to draw the borers out as well.”
A woman in a sky blue and pale yellow plaid scurried off up the left leg of the Shoe. Ivy remained focused on her cupped hands, her brow creased with worry.
I admit, it was strange watching Ivy attend to something I couldn’t see. And honestly, it made me feel a bit better knowing the others couldn’t see the dryad either. I knew that Lissa had some wood magic though, and I assumed Porter did as well, so there must be a threshold of ability that allowed someone to see the dryads. I did wish to see what one looked like.
No, at that point I wasn’t sure what the nature of the dryad-tree bond was, but I did ask Ivy later when we were underway. Dryads live in and on their trees, and they take on some aspects of them as their appearance. She said this dryad had skin that mirrored the tree’s, but that it was brittle and flaky and had become a slate gray instead of multi-colored. The creature’s hair was dry and crumbly and she felt slack like a wilted stem. I could tell she was very concerned for the dryad, but honestly felt that the ginseng root the woman returned with would help her immensely.
Scosy returned in half an hour or so with a silver-haired man who had very long pointed ears, the most elf-like ears I had seen yet. He was fairly tall, and very slight, but somehow managed to take up space within the gathered crowd. Ivy greeted him and told him what she needed. He smiled, nodding in agreement, and made a circular motion with his hand, the palm facing downward. A sharp breeze sprang up and the loose dirt and pebbles in front of him began to spiral around. Next thing I saw was Ivy step up into air, but obviously onto something. The elf joined her, and they rose straight up toward the branches, some sixty feet above. I bit my tongue to keep from drawing attention to myself.
They spent about ten minutes aloft, circling the trunk and examining three areas closely. Ivy confirmed the presence of borers and a secondary infestation of lacebug when she landed. She said the trunk was weeping in the three places she and Leverett had lingered at and prescribed poultices of tobacco leaves to be applied every few days, making sure the mash filled the tunnels.
“Leave a piece of ginseng root out for the dryad every tertia or quarta anar* for the next anos too. Whoever goes up with Leverett can also spray the lacebug with a soap solution. Just to lessen the pressure on the tree so it can heal. Send word to Aymur for him to visit in seisla aneks and check progress. I’ll recheck it on my return from Irillo as well. Hopefully I can perform some bark healing on the wound sites then.”
“Many thanks, Ivy. We will see it all gets done. Safe travels to Irillo, and give Sawyerset’s regards to the Regna. Elements be.” Porter ambled away back up the road, wood shavings littering his wake.
We returned to the tavern with Lissa to gather our belongings and say our farewells. She stood, shaking her head with a wry grin on her face, watching her son bustle about our mounts in the stable yard when we alighted from the back stairway. “Ah Ivy, you’ve saddled me with a mournful puppy for the rest of th’ anar. Look at him, his feet ‘ave barely touched the ground since you told him to make ready. You sure you don’t want ‘im to tag along, you’d only have to say the word.” I heard the mirth, but also the concern in her remark.
Ivy started to reply but Lissa cut her off with a waved hand, “I do jest with ye. He’ll be ‘imself again on the morrow. I do wish he had more of my wood skills, but evidently not so. Sawyerset isn’t the place for ‘im. The horses is what he gravitates toward, I’ll have to put out a word for him. Maybe some bigger inn could use a stable hand and he could work his way up. Quindecca isn’t too young to be settin’ himself up for later on.”
“I could ask when I’m in Irillo. Perhaps even inquire in Forelore’s stables. I can vouch for him, so that is more than a blind query.”
“Would ye do that? I’d be much obliged to you. And I won’t breathe a word to Scosy unless there’s something for him.”
“Of course, I’ll report back on my return, or send a message if there is something before. Do you think he’d be willing to go at any point?”
‘Oh, I’m sure he would. If he could work in a busy stable, my boy would be right at home. Almost as happy as seein’ you.” We all shared a laugh and a smile, said our thanks, and parted ways at the kitchen door.
Let’s leave off here for today. In case you are wondering, Ivy did indeed find a place for Scosy, in Forelore’s stables no less. They were happy to have another hand with horse ability on staff. I saw him at one point out in Irillo as part of a foal training unit. He seemed very content and at home. Lucky boy, but I’m sure Lissa missed him. And it was good to know Ivy was true to her word.
*anek = week, anar = day, anos = month, anid = year
I’m sure there are many arborists out there who would love to have levitating abilities to diagnose tree canopy issues. I was impressed with that, for sure. It was also interesting that we have the same problems with planetrees and sycamores here that the Center Tree suffered from. But no dryads. Poor Scosy, though, I thought about saying something, but I didn’t want to get involved. Would you have said anything? Have you been in a similar situation and not done anything? Drop a comment below about your experience or let me know how your spring is going 😀. See you next time!~
Wanna be a part of Huphaea? Subscribe to Collata⚡, the Collection of Huphaea newsletter! Then you will be part of Eleanorah’s troupe of Nightingales, privy to extras and fun facts from this fantastical land of magic and elven kind once a month. You can join here:
Hello Everyone! Are the signs of season change cropping up around you? We are in a bouncy weather pattern of random days below freezing in between seasonable days in the 40’s. It’s annoying for wardrobe choices, I’ll admit, but it is keeping mud season somewhat at bay. For now. March is certainly my least favorite month of the year.
The signs of spring are burgeoning, though, birds are singing, maple sap is running, and my turkeys are getting restless 🦃. And we change the clocks soon! That is certainly a highlight of spring! Let’s head back to Huphaea now, where it is already warm and sunny, shall we?
When we last left Ivy and Elahna, they had just finished having a pitcher of cider with Lissa, the tavern-keeper, and were heading off to the bathhouse. Sounds perfect, doesn’t it?~
During the bustle of the evening downstairs a few other boarders had claimed rooms upstairs. Partially open doors allowed the sounds of luggage being wrangled and tired travelers to accompany us down the hallway. Ivy un-barked our doors and I shucked off my sandals, happy to be out of their dusty, gritty soles. I fished around in my sack for a few clean items to don after the soak and we headed back out to the bathhouse.
The water was crisp and clean and blissfully warm. I sunk into it, knowing it would be difficult staying awake with the gentle sounds and rhythms of the bubbling water.
“Do you know many people here in Sawyerset?” I asked.
“Some, but certainly not all. It’s difficult not to know some, what with our towns being joined by the Saywer’s Run, the mills, and that we all manage the forest together. Many of us at Rosewood have talents that are particularly beneficial to forestry, so we monitor the health of Venrood Forest and help as needed.”
“Makes sense. So how many actually live at Rosewood? I saw maybe twent- er, quinduary people while I was there, are there more?”
“Oh yes. I’m not even sure how many are part of the Scion, really. Many of us are scattered throughout the land using our talents where they are needed. So, for example, there are several other forest tracts in Huphaea which all need managing for production and in general. Those Arboreans that are drawn to those locales may only venture to Rosewood every few years, but they still belong to it and the Scion. They are still part of us.”
“I see. What is your talent, Ivy, if I may ask? I don’t mean to be rude, if it is rude to ask about that. I am a horticulturist at home, so plants and trees are my thing. And you did grow that bark out of the door…”
“I have bark-related abilities. I can enhance bark growth on the southern side of trees for winter protection, sense insect infestations, heal bark wounds, actions like that. I can work with deciduous and evergreen trees, but I have more success with the deciduous.”
“You know the center tree is a planetree?” Ivy smiled at me, and I sensed that I just scored a point or two with her.
“Yes, absolutely. I’ve recognized most of the species we’ve seen. And if not directly, then they fit into an oak family, or a willow family, or something I know. It’s pretty cool, actually.”
“It must be because our worlds are so closely tied that they can support the same forms of life. That would be something to ask the Scholars about.”
“I have to say, though, that everything I see and know here is so much more vigorous than on Earth. That has to be due to the vitae and your magics. Are all individual magics that specific?”
“Many are, yes. It’s what makes each of us unique. I also have the ability to work with color some, as my patris is an Arister. An illustrator, to be exact. So I can match the hue of something to another thing. It is very helpful with wound healing. I can make it look like the tree wasn’t ever injured.” She sat up a bit straighter as she said this, and I surmised that she was quite proud of this bit. To illustrate the point, she gazed at the sky blue bath sheet on the table and taking a lock of her hair in two fingers, turned it the same bright color. That explained the matching braids and leggings I noticed earlier.
“That is amazing!” I said. “I’m sure the sawyers appreciate that ability, as well as the trees.”
“Yes. They do. Both of them. And some of the wood Aristers as well. It makes me feel useful.”
I began to notice some of the riding muscles in my legs heating, almost like I had applied linament to them, and then they tingled almost like they were going to sleep. I fidgeted with the new sensation and noticed Ivy doing the same. “Is there something in the water? My legs are all tingly.” I asked.
“Healing stones.” She replied. “After contact with them for some time, they correct imbalances in energy.”
“Seriously? Well, isn’t that handy. Which ones are they?” I started hunting for something that would mark the healing stones as different, but couldn’t see anything.
“No idea. Only those with healing abilities can tell. You could be standing on a mountain of healing rocks and be none the wiser.”
“Wow, that could be good or bad, right? Either way, its pretty excellent right now.”
With sore muscles eased, we climbed out of the pool, dried off, and dressed again for the short walk back upstairs. Outside, leaning against the back wall of the tavern, three of the fellows we met through Lissa were sipping pints and trading jokes, by the sound of their laughter. Ivy shot me a quizzical look, one brow raised, and smiled in recognition. One of them stepped over to open the door, it appeared, but he delayed the motion enough that we had to pause ourselves.
“It was lovely to make your acquaintances earlier, ladies, will you be returning to the tavern for a nightcap now? Allow us to accompany you, the taproom is a fair bit more crowded than before.”
I instantly got a bit uncomfortable, a surge of butterflies rising in my stomach. The buzz of noise from the taproom spilled out the partially open door, and the sharp clink of glasses as the barboy washed them in the giant tub inside indicated the state of the evening. The speaker was still holding the door, smiling.
“I appreciate the offer, but it has been a long travel day. I’m set to retire for the night, with another day on horseback ahead. Glad to have made your acquaintance earlier, as well, and enjoy your evening.” I noticed there was no hint of speaking for both of us in Ivy’s words and her pointed look conveyed that I was expected to answer for myself.
“Oh, no, thank you. I couldn’t hold another drink. I’m ready for some sleep, morning will be here soon. It was nice to meet you.”
“Surely there is still time left to be enjoyed before the sun rises.” The speaker, (I couldn’t remember his name), said, a mischievous wink added to his smile.
“I, um, I’m sorry. I really am tired. Thank you for the offer, though.” I straightened and looked over his shoulder at the door, ready to brush past him if he stood firm.
He didn’t, and gave way for us to pass. “If you find sleep eludes you, the offer stands, and my friend here has room dua down the hall from you. Safe travels, Elements be.” The last was uttered at the bottom of a low, sweeping bow that could have been mocking were I at home, but here it felt genuine and even hopeful?
“Elements be. G’dag,” we replied and stepped through the door, pulling it closed once again. The barboy gave us a slight grin as we headed up the stairs. He had heard the whole exchange, I was sure.
“You could have accepted their offer, if you wished,” Ivy whispered. “If I weren’t truly exhausted, I probably would have. I’m sure it would be a lovely night.”
“Ah, what? Seriously? No, I’m good. Was that what it sounded like? Did they want me, or us, to visit that room?”
“Oh certainly. Did you not consider it? Why would you not, if you were of a mind?” She honestly looked puzzled that I was surprised at such a bold proposition.
“Well, I guess I just wasn’t expecting that, being a stranger here.”
“What does that matter? Don’t you express desires and wish them to be fulfilled?” We were outside my door now, my hand on the knob.
“Sure, but what would be said afterwards? I mean, wouldn’t there be social consequences of acting on those desires? There would be where I come from, if word got out to people I knew.”
Ivy stared at me blankly, the silence stretching into awkwardness. Heavy footsteps fell on the stairs at the other end of the hall and she broke the stare.
“You will have to explain the ‘social consequences’ of sharing the pleasure of another’s company and bed to me tomorrow. I am afraid my mind is too tired to make sense of it now. Shall we meet at siesla downstairs?”
“Yes, sounds good. G’dag.” I turned away feeling scolded, hearing her muttered “G’dag” in return.
The bed was soft, and the breeze wafting in the open window stirred the air in the room pleasantly. I was asleep moments after hitting the pillow, despite the crowd noise from below. My last thoughts were of how socially inept I must be for this land. And the dressing down I was likely to get in the morning.
Ivy did end up giving me a good talking to as we rode, and I learned some of the principles of Huphaean society in general. Namely that there was nothing wrong with enjoying the company of anyone you wished to, were they willing. That was the main tenet, however, willingness. Refusal was an absolute and never questioned. She honestly did not understand the concept of judging someone for what they did or who they shared themselves with. Huphaeans believed in enjoying all life had to offer, as much as possible. I had a lot of adapting to do…
In case you are wondering, yes, I did manage to make a bollox of almost every social situation for quite a while… But what’s new, right? Would you have accepted the offer? One thing I was reminded of multiple times is how long it can take to shed prior beliefs and adopt those of the culture you are in. Have you ever experienced that firsthand? Share your cultural adjustments in the comments below, I’d love to hear them.
Wanna be a part of Huphaea? Subscribe to Collata⚡, the Collection of Huphaea newsletter! Then you will be part of Eleanorah’s troupe of Nightingales, privy to extras and fun facts from this fantastical land of magic and elven kind once a month. You can join here:
Hello Everyone! Hope you are all keeping well with the difficult weather parts of the US are experiencing right now. The Northeast is used to the snow and freezing temps each winter, I can only imagine how difficult it is to deal with when the infrastructure isn’t designed to handle it. Feel free to send it back this way, where it belongs, we could use some more in my opinion 🤔. February is moving along and we are approaching the year anniversary of lockdown here. It’s actually an odd feeling, to think that it’s only been a year—it feels like ten. Before we know it, the trees will be budding and the Easter bunny will be hopping around, though he already appears to have visited the stores… The Easter candy was out three weeks before Valentine’s Day! But anyway, we should get back to the story after my unplanned hiatus. Stay strong and healthy, spring is on the way!~
We last left the ladies, Ivy and Elahna, in Sawyerset at The Tarnished Blade Inn. The innkeeper had just instructed them to not dawdle in returning to the dining room, as it was filling up quickly. Shall we rejoin them?~
Returning to our setting
I must have stood gazing a second or two too long, as Ivy touched me on the shoulder. “Come on, you heard Lissa, we’d better be quick or we’ll be standing.”
A few heads turned and watched us ascend the stairs, but not in an overly concerned manner. The second floor was a warren of rooms extending off the main hallway that wound the length of the building, much like the random table arrangement in the room below. Though the room placement seemed haphazard though, I decided it was actually carefully planned to maximize space and the number of rooms. “The corner room is my usual, yours is right here. This stair goes to behind the bar and out to the wash building, that’s why Lissa always holds it for me.” Ivy put a hand on her doorknob, “Meet you back in an erd?”
“Yeah, sure.” I pushed open my door and stepped into a tidy, yet welcoming space just big enough to be called a room. It held a single bed, a low dresser, a chair, and a small round table arranged around a long, oval, emerald green rug. The curtains matched the hue of the rug. I slung my bag onto the bed and looked out the window over the back of the tavern. A blocky structure jutted out from the main building, which must be the kitchen that Lissa disappeared into, and a smaller, thatch-roofed building stood further back but directly behind our rooms. A thin trail of smoke rose from a central chimney and people entered or exited from either end. The wash house? I surmised I was about to find out.
I turned to head back out to meet Ivy, just as she stepped in. “Oh, this is so cute, will it suit you?” I nodded. “Good, grab that linen and let’s go wash up quick. I don’t know about you, but I feel quite dusty.” She held a ruby red towel and a round of light pink soap. I did suddenly feel quite gritty, though I hadn’t noticed much dust on the ride.
After I pulled the door closed, Ivy reached out and drew a finger across the door frame and the jamb in three places, sealing the door closed with strips of gnarly wood. I gave her what I hoped was a questioning look and she shrugged as she turned. “Not that I don’t trust Lissa and Beren, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. It will keep the curious and inebriated out, at least. I’m not sure if news of your identity has beaten us here or not. But it won’t be long if it hasn’t.”
That was the first time I had witnessed anyone take any precautions whatsoever. Somehow, it made me feel a bit more at ease. Not having to be aware of those around me had been unsettling, when I allowed myself to think about it. And though Ivy was an Elemental, her powers were of an arboreal nature, and I wasn’t sure how much protection that could provide if necessary. She’d just grown ‘tree tape’ but could she grow a wooden shield or knife if we needed it? Come to think of it, at this point, I didn’t even know what her ability was. I decided to ask that, casually, if the opportunity presented itself. It all just made me think more and more of the fictional worlds I so loved. And it appeared I had stumbled into one, literally.
The wash building turned out to be more like an outhouse with a steam room built in. A bench of latrine places, separated with three-foot tall dividers lined one wall and a screen of translucent silk painted in a mountain scene divided it from the steaming stone pool that was sunken into the floor. My jaw dropped open at the bubbling bath, it looked so inviting! A couple of stone basins stuck out from the wall alongside the pool and Ivy was already soaking her cloth under the tap.
“I’d love to get into that, I don’t feel saddle sore, but that would definitely help prevent it.” I nodded toward the pool, as I tried to figure out how to make water flow from the single pipe that bent into the basin.
Ivy reached over me and pressed her thumb into a depression in the stone wall. Water began to flow, slightly warm, over the cloth in my hands. I deduced then how to adjust the temperature and the volume using the depressions I could now pick out on the wall and the tap. “That does sound like an excellent idea. As long as we don’t fall too far into our cups at dinner,” she gave me a lopsided smile.
“Oh, don’t worry about that with me. I have no desire to have a big head on a horseback ride. That would be pure torment.” I shook my head vehemently, remembering how I woke up in Raga’s tent that first morning. “I’m good.”
We finished up a quick toilette. The pink soap was smooth and fragrant like a bouquet of fresh roses with a rich lather. When Ivy wrung her linen out, I was astonished at how much water she extracted. The cloth was nearly dry! I did the same to my own, and by the time we reached our rooms again, it WAS dry. No real need for drying racks as such, I thought. Remarkable.
I slowed my pace a bit when we retraced our steps downstairs, taking in the scene that unfolded as I rounded the staircase. The crowd had increased, along with the din of upbeat conversation. Tankards decorated tabletops next to brawny, tanned arms amid a sea of colorful plaids. Ivy paused with a few steps to go, looking for an empty table I assumed, but Lissa’s exuberant wave drew my attention. She beckoned us to a small table against the opposite wall where she stood minding a tray of food and a chilled pitcher.
“Here you are, game hen stew and a pitcher of fresh sparkly. Everything to your liking upstairs? Anything else you need, just wave me over. Gotta run just now, enjoy!” Once again, Lissa snaked off into the growing crowd, calling out orders as she entered the kitchen. Ivy and I exchanged an arch look and then laughed in unison.
“I couldn’t have gotten a word in sideways if I’d had to!” I said.
“I know! Once the crowd settles in, though, she’ll visit with a tankard of her own. Lissa can drink level with any of the sawyers. I’d even put her up against someone with rock troll blood and put my wager on her. She and Beren built this tavern themselves, including milling the timber. Beren was a sawyer previously and Lissa’s whole family are, she grew up in a mill. She can horse-whisper, and was responsible for the mill horses, but she loves working with wood. Most of the interior is her work.”
The two tiny birds steaming in thick broth with carrots, peas, onions, and potatoes was difficult to ignore up to that point. Naturally, once Ivy mentioned Lissa’s work, I had to look around and see what she meant.
Many of the tables, including ours, were made of entire round slabs of tree trunk, bark and all. Varnish sealed the tops in a thick layer as clear as glass. The bar counters were of the same idea, the rough live bark edges worn almost smooth by thirsty patrons. The more I looked, the more unique details I picked out—finial carvings on the support columns, the bannister scroll work on the spiral stair, different fluting on the legs of the tables and chairs, wood burning and etching around the windows. Personal touches that gave the tavern a welcoming, lived-in atmosphere. Then my mind snagged on something else she had said.
“What’s a rock troll?”
“I wondered if you’d caught that.” Ivy’s green eyes sparkled with delight. “There aren’t many, if any, here in Huphaea. But they are a large, resilient people who live in mountainous areas on other continents. At least on Iacewen, that I know of. They don’t have any magic of their own and have been known to capture women to try to infuse magic into their population. It doesn’t ever work that way, but some rock trolls keep trying anyway. Almost like they forget about the results.”
“You make it sound scientific, like its an experiment.”
“I don’t know that odd s-word you said, but I suppose it could be described that way, like an experiment. Or even a game to some of them. The rock troll tribe always loses, because the half-troll individual is either turned out when no magic appears, or they leave of their own accord to find more developed societies.”
“That doesn’t sound like an intelligent approach.”
“Intelligence isn’t a rock troll specialty. Fortuantely, most of the true half-trolls gain in that way from their non-troll parent. That’s why they all leave the cave towns.”
“I see. So that blood confers some ability to hold a lot of drink, I take it? Would you be able to tell someone had rock troll blood just by looking at them?”
“Sometimes. Those with rock troll blood are usually larger in physical stature, with a greyish hue to their skin. But both can diminish as the bloodline dilutes and there are plenty of people with larger builds, as we see.” Being in a mill town, we were surrounded by large-framed individuals in that room alone. “The only trait that gives any rock troll lineage away is gray eyes. No other race has gray eyes, so if you meet someone with gray eyes, they have enough rock troll blood to matter. And don’t challenge them to a drink-off.” She grinned again as she filled two flagons from the frosty pitcher.
“I’ll remember that. Certainly.”
We fell into silence for a bit, making forays into the stew with deep-bowled wooden spoons and hearty dark brown bread. The cider was crisp and on the sweeter side, but quite refreshing and it complemented the stew perfectly. I noticed the number of glances and nods in our direction increasing with the influx of patrons. I began to wonder if I was about to become a sideshow to the night’s revelry.
In general, I’m not one to go about attracting attention, so this situation made me uneasy. However, I wasn’t facing a sea of hostile faces, just curious ones that probably mirrored my own. I decided that this evening was no different than any of the others I had spent in foreign countries back home. At least here I could speak the language, mostly. I used that thought as an anchor and screwed up my confidence. After all, we were all humans or elves or some combination thereof with the common threads of curiosity and, I imagine, speculation. Probably nothing would happen anyway.
Thoroughly satiated on stew, I slid my bowl to the end of the table, wondering what would come next. Should we vacate the table for other dining patrons and find a place along the wall at the drink rail if we intended to stay? My eyes flicked up to Ivy, seeking a cue from her, but she sat calmly finishing her stew and tidying the tableware.
Lissa appeared a moment later with a mousy-haired girl of about nine (or nova) in tow, a heavily carved tankard in her hand. She indicated to the girl to clear the dishes away and snagged an empty stool from a table across the aisle.
The men at the table leaned out and around each other to sling good-natured barbs at Lissa and soon we were all laughing together.
After some hasty introductions and small talk about the day, Lissa turned back to our table and hunched conspiratorially over her tankard, her eyes alighting on me. “So, tell me, what was it like to realize you aren’t where you belong? Was it as janked as I imagine it would be? Was the travel frightening?”
“I, ah, well, if you mean was it odd, then no. One second I was walking forward into an old stone structure, the next I was in a different one. That’s all it was. No falling, or darkness, or stretching, or voices, or light. It was just a step like any other. Only it wasn’t.” I had been expecting some questions at some point, but not this particular one. Lissa seemed disappointed almost, but she recovered quickly, firing off more questions until she appeared satisfied and her tankard was empty.
“I should go check on Beren and the lads, hold my stool? I’ll bring another pitcher, no?”
“Sure, but only if you bring some apple crunch with it. I’ve been dreaming of it all day, I even saved room for it, and here you’ve made me wait without even a mention of it!” Ivy sagged back in her chair, a dramatic pout on her face for a few seconds before she winked at me.
“Pssshaaww! And you knew I’d make it special for you, Miss Ivy, didn’t you? As if my sontris’d let me forget you were a’comin’!” Lissa jumped up from the table, feigned offense crumbling into laughter. “Mark my words, you’ll wake up one morning t’ find my Scosy underneath your branch there at Rosewood, waiting on your wishes. I’ll be back in an erdin with your crunch and cider, my lady,” and she swept a mocking bow in Ivy’s direction, mirth plastered on her face.
Ivy pealed into laughter, but her face turned a shade of delicate rose pink in the wake of Lissa’s words. Smiles blossomed on the faces of the men across the aisle, who had obviously been listening to Lissa’s line of questioning and my replies. They knew who I was for certain now. Ivy righted herself and traced her fingers around the rim of the tankard. “I do hope that doesn’t come to pass. But wait until you have her apple crunch. It is fabulous.”
I was pretty sure I couldn’t fit another bite, but the steaming apple crunch in the crock and bowl of fresh whipped cream Lissa returned with was too tempting to pass up.
Lissa helped polish it off, thankfully, along with the pitcher of cider. The conversation turned to local matters and news of individuals both women had in common. At one point, Lissa inquired about Aymur almost shyly, which was so out of character that I picked up on it right away. “He is well,” Ivy answered. “Grandess Daphne keeps him busy lately since she injured her ankle. No doubt she summoned the Orderly first thing now that he is back. He was probably gathering herbs for poultices when we passed him. Unclen will be eager to see her well and back to administering. He is far too used to having his own time most days.”
“Ah, that’s why he hasn’t been by lately. Some of the lads said they could use his talent in the spruce grove. The gall aphids are winding up fierce this year, they wanted a bit of reinforcement from him. Speaking of which, before you go, you should examine the center tree. It hasn’t leafed as quickly as usual and one of the young ones said they could see some sap oozing way up toward the crown. Perhaps you could help? I’m sure if Porter comes in he’ll ask ye to, but here then, you’ve already been made aware.”
“Of course I will, in the morning before we depart.” Ivy glanced at me. “Still in want for a stone bath soak? After all this food and talk I admit it sounds like a good way to cap the evening, and ensure a good night’s sleep.”
“Absolutely! It would be a perfect end, yes.”
“Right then, I’ll leave you ladies to it, my thanks for the updates, Ivy. Tell Aymur to pop in next time he’s round. I’ll leave two bathing sheets by the back door, grab them on your way to the bathhouse. I’ll be in at first light if you want breakfast, but don’t rush on account of me. It’s my early day. Elements be, then, g’tag.”
“Oh, you’ll probably see Unclen before I do, I’ll be in Irillo for a while. Sounds perfect though, thank you. Elements be, Lissa, g’tag.”
Was every meal I ate delicious, you ask? Yes! I honestly can’t think of one thing I did not like, which is highly unusual for me. Oh yes, I was super curious about that little exchange about Aymur. Lissa certainly seemed fond of him by the way she talked, she actually softened somewhat. I never did ask about her horse whispering ability, but I imagine it was as you would expect, without mind magic or Sentients. I’ll stop here for this segment. The night can continue next time!~
The Tarnished Blade sure sounds like a fun place to spend an evening, right? Do you enjoy places like that? I did before going to Huphaea, and definitely did while I was there. I was lucky enough to be in respectable establishments during my stay. Our position as Collectors would not allow anything less since it was realm business. I did hear about some rather unsavory places in Irillo, though, through the gossip channels. Let me know your tavern experiences in the comments below!
Remember to subscribe to Collata ⚡, the Collection of Huphaea newsletter. There will be a new issue out soon, so jump on board! Become a Nightingale and get extras and outtakes from the land of Huphaea delivered to your inbox once a month. You can sign up here 👇🏼
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Hello Everyone! We’ve reached episode 20, can you believe it? It feels like a milestone to me, considering I wasn’t sure I could sustain a schedule with life, dogs, other work, and (little did we know) a pandemic. But I’m glad I have, it has been fun so far and I hope you are enjoying it as well 😊. Winter presses on in this neck of the woods, we actually had some snow overnight. It should be a given here in New England, but not as much as when I was young, it seems. But my dogs are happy this morning and that is all that really matters, right? Here’s hoping all is well with you, and let’s get back to Eleanorah’s tale. You can also follow her on Twitter at @EleanorahStarr and loads of other authors too! #TeaserTuesday is a popular place to hangout ✍🏼.
We last left the travelers in the aftermath of a discussion about magic inheritance, who is called what, and Elahnawas pondering her position in the society should she have to stay. She had just concluded she would be at the very bottom, as an Ungifted. No real surprise, really, but still something to be aware of nonetheless. Let’s rejoin them on the road, shall we?~
Approaching Sawyerset. *Photo by PxHere
Shouts of a semi-raucous nature tore the forest quiet we had subsided into after the inheritance discussion. I jumped in my own skin, though Revel barely flinched. “Sawyerset’s millmen.” Ivy said, gesturing off to the right and slightly ahead of us. “It’s a bit late to be sending a barge downriver to Cragbend now, they must be tying it off until morning. No doubt they are eager for the end of the day.”
“We’re almost there, then?” I asked, and then mentally slapped myself. I could see the trees thinning as we progressed and the shapes of buildings materializing in the resultant space. Faint tendrils of roasting meat aromas, pine shavings, and wet earth trailed through the air. The prospect of another new place, different people, and more questions to answer set off flutters of anticipation in my chest. It was a welcome sensation that made me smile. I’d learned much on the ride today, yet I was hungry for more.
Sawyerset nestled into the northern fringe of Venrood Forest. Unlike Cragbend, select trees had been spared the axe throughout the town so that the buildings nestled in among the broad trunks. The branch canopies had been limbed up quite high to allow sunshine in, I imagined, and perhaps some cover from precipitation. Not much for crops was going to grow in the grove, though, without some magical help.
Shade plants must love this, I mused as we rode down the main street, and was delighted to see many of my favorite perennials filling up gardens and borders alongside colorful containers of impatiens, lobelia, torenia, and fuschias.
The bright colors of the flowers adorned cottages and shops constructed entirely of wood. Intricate planking patterns and the species of tree the boards were milled from provided the distinguishing features of the buildings in place of paint. I marveled at alternating herringbone patterns, diagonals, and several variations of Tudor-style using different woods.
Rooflines and front fences were adorned with elaborate carvings and patterns, and here and there I saw stained window casings or fascia boards. It was colorful in an understated way that inspired comfort, warmth, and above all, hard work.
The broad, packed-earth road carved a wide horseshoe through the town, with smaller lanes trailing away toward the thicker forest. Most of the townsfolk must live off these paths as I glimpsed only a few cottages that appeared to be actual dwellings and not merchants of some sort. The middle of the horseshoe was dominated by a giant planetree, its patchy white, gray, and green bark visible from any point.
Awnings dyed in bright and varied hues announced the market that filled the western half of the field, while the eastern half contained a clock tower, a well, and a fountain surrounded by woodland plants of every sort. Market-goers were wrapping up the day’s purchasing and gossip, and the stall-owners were packing their carts to head for home, or the pub on the way there. Everything I observed and sensed told me that this was a very close knit community, aware of every event that took place inside its bounds. Small-town camaraderie at its finest.
“We have rooms reserved at The Tarnished Blade,” Ivy said. “It sits at the bottom right of the bend in the Shoe. This road is named the Horseshoe, but everyone refers to it as the Shoe. Directions are given in relation to the place on the Shoe, and relative to the center tree, in case you were wondering.” She flashed me a wise sort of grin. I couldn’t help but laugh some in return. Evidently my curiosity had made an impression on her today.
At the location she described stood a two-story tavern. It was constructed in a Tudor-esque style that paired a silver-gray wood with the framing details in another lumber of fine-grained, dark brown. The contrast of the two colors made the gray shine like a pewter mirror in the fading light of the evening. The second story kept the dark framing of the first floor, but had wide, bright, tongue-and-groove boards diagonally set instead. I noticed each window had different colored curtains in jewel tones, creating the effect of a gem-encrusted belt cinching a pale robe. Warm, golden light spilled out of the many diamond-paned windows along with hearty laughter and scents from the open doors. Half of a sawmill blade was sunk perpendicular into the door frame well above head height, painted scarlet red with blackened tooth tips. Of course, why not use the real thing for a sign?
I dismounted in the small stableyard out back, doing a similar light jig to the one in the forest to restore feeling to my feet. I tried to keep Revel between me and the pedestrians, but he evidently found my dance amusing and did his own version to draw attention to us. A lanky boy strolled in our direction, a wide grin blooming on his face. I picked up Revel’s reins and murmured, “Oh, you are a cheeky one, aren’t you?” as I scratched his ears.
“Long ride today, miss? Oh, Elements be, Miss Ivy, nice t’ see you again. Yes, I’d imagine saddle foot’s got ya, if you’ve been from Cragbend? Here, lemme take thems for you. I’ve stalls prepped for ’em since Mam said you’d be with us for a night. Wat’s this one, he’s a sharp one, eh?” The grinning boy reached for both of our reins, looking Revel over as though he might sprout wings or devil horns.
“Elements be, Scosy, many thanks. You may remember Felicity, and that there is Revel. He’s young, but he shouldn’t give you any trouble. He can be a bit of a sprat though, as you see. They have had a long, but excellent ride today. Make sure they get a good rubdown and extra oats, will you?” Ivy favored the youth with a wide smile, and he colored pink up to the points of his ears. She unlatched her bags from the saddle and turned toward the inn. I slapped Revel’s rump lightly as he pranced away and followed Ivy.
We reached the side door through an alley way of stacked casks and crates and stepped into my imagination. The Tarnished Blade was every bit the tavern I had pictured in my mind, even more so than The Cleft Barrel had been back in Cragbend.
To our right, a lengthy bar of various heights stretched two-thirds of the way to the far wall. A very tall, yet broad-shouldered older man leaned on his elbows from behind the bar, deep in conversation with a patron. His eyes registered our entrance and his hand shot up into the air in greeting, though his conversation never paused. A plump woman burst through the set of swinging doors then, two wide, steaming bowls clutched in towels in her hands. She turned our way, nodded and smiled in greeting before confidently winding through the scattered furniture and depositing the bowls on a table that sat four men in light button-down shirts of the same plaid. She slung the towels over her shoulder and approached us, and I realized what I had taken for plump was actually stout and strong. She would have looked normal in a plaid shirt as well.
“Ivy, Elements be! Perfect timing, as usual. Right before the dinner rush.” The woman’s raised hand greeting turned into a quick, affectionate hug, which Ivy returned, and then she was steering us toward an intricately worked spiral stair at the back of the room. “Take your things up, its rooms septa and octa in the far corner, they’ll be the quietest. Then have a wash, if you like, and grab a table. I’ll ferry over some stew and cider when I see ya come in. But don’t dawdle, it’ll fill up quick on a fine night like this. The mill’s lads’ll be wantin’ their ale!” And then she was gone, back through the kitchen doors for more orders, I supposed.
This is a good place to stop for today, the evening in The Tarnished Blade deserves its own episode. I just may put that out next week instead of waiting a week! I still marvel now at how perfect the taverns were to my imagination. To this day, I miss them. They were true community places no matter where I was in the land.~
Elahna is now a whole day closer to the capital and her situation has a bit more meaning for her. Would you be able to be as composed as she is, in her position? Comment below and let’s talk about it!
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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.~
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.”
“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!
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.
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.”
“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.
“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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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.~
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.
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.
“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.”
“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!
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The Sun, a Book, and a Dog 