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

Hello Everyone! There’s a cool breeze wafting in my window as I type, it feels sort of likeโ€”I can’t say itโ€”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 didnโ€™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. Iโ€™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 didnโ€™t involve indentured servitude or work campsโ€ฆ. So far this society didnโ€™t feel like a cruel, vindictive one, but I shouldnโ€™t get my hopes up.

For now, I was glad I had been practicing โ€˜living in the presentโ€™ 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 ironyโ€ฆ

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 hadnโ€™t really said where I was going, though, cause I wasnโ€™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 hadnโ€™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 didnโ€™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 wouldnโ€™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, Iโ€™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 didnโ€™t have to walk through the door together, holding it for me, and I could have sworn I heard a mumbled โ€œSorry for what I wroteโ€ 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 Sawyerโ€™s Run Inn that put me in view of the crossroads. Most likely that was the riverโ€™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 Iโ€™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 Cragbendโ€™s citizens had elemental powers and how many were, what did Daphne call them, Ungifted? Was there animosity between the Gifted and non? She didnโ€™t seem to indicate it, but then again, she obviously had gifts aplenty, so why would she. Iโ€™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 wasnโ€™t. It felt like a June summer day in New England, no humidity, perhaps around 80 degrees. Was that the weather workersโ€™ doing? How much did they have control of? Did they plan a weekโ€™s weather (um, an anekโ€™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, canโ€™t you imagine? No, I didnโ€™t have an escort or anything, I didnโ€™t need one. No one mentioned any threats or things to watch out for. Kind of telling thatโ€™s what we think of first, right? Come to think of it, I hadnโ€™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. Iโ€™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 bakerโ€™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 ๐Ÿ˜‰.~


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 ๐Ÿ™‚.

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:

Or click here to contact me directly:

Want more info about life in Huphaea? Sign up for Collata โšก, 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!

ยฉ2020 Eleanorah Starr and Quill and Orb Press. All Rights Reserved.

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

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 ๐Ÿ˜†. 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 hadnโ€™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 byย formย 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, โ€œThank you, that was truly amazing. I couldnโ€™t have seen that view without your help.โ€

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 sureโ€”acrophobia was not part of an Arboreanโ€™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!~

Curious for more information about Ereth, Huphaea, and its inhabitants? Join the Nightingales by subscribing to Collataโšก, the Collection of Huphaea’s newsletter! I send out one email a month with extra bits from my time in Huphaea, things I can’t fit into the episodes. Come along, join the troupe, we are a merry band! Subscribe below!

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

ยฉ2020 Eleanorah Starr and Quill & Orb Press. All Rights Reserved.

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #8

Hello Everyone! I hope you all are well and staying safe and healthy. Summer is in full swing here, since the last post I have finished opening the pool and am back to swimming laps in preparation for soccer starting back up. How is the re-opening progressing where you are? Are you thinking of travelling this summer at all? I’m doing the mind travelling route, taking off for other worlds in my head as I write these CoH chronicles and the subsequent novel(s). I’ve also taken up firm residence in Victorian London, thanks to the historical fiction audiobooks I escape with when I’m weeding and walking the dogs. Sherry Thomas’ The Lady Sherlock Series has been fabulous to listen to, if you are a fan of that genre, I strongly recommend it!

When we last saw Elahna, she had been left at the spectacular Rosewood Manor by the Bluebirds and she knew she would be heading to the capital city of Irillo sometime soon. There had been another performance, and then an awkward encounter with a boy. Elahna was pretty nervous about this ‘Passer’ thing. Let’s see how she is in the morning…~


a sunlight alarm*

Warm sunshine streaming through leafy shutters brought me awake. At some point I had crawled under the covers and nestled into the cloud-like pillows. Branches woven together formed an intricate canopy in russet and olive hues above me. Leaves framed the edges where scrollwork would normally appear, and gauzy light blue material filled the gaps mimicking the sky. I hadnโ€™t taken the opportunity to appreciate my accommodations last night, my unrest had been too immediate and I had even fallen asleep in my clothes. I rubbed crusty sleep from my eyes and scanned the room then, examining the contents.

Every piece of furniture appeared to grow out of the floor, walls, or ceiling, depending on what it was. Bright dyed cushions in blues, soft yellows and russets decorated the chairs. The bed dressings mirrored the color choices in summer weight blanket and linens.

Time. What time was it? I hadnโ€™t had a chance to figure out how many erdurs were in the days here yet.

Come to think of it, I hadnโ€™t even seen the moon in this land yet. Was there one? At that thought, so many other questions flooded my mind that I had to get up and move around to dispel them.

That was when I found the water system in the bathroomโ€”you had asked about water earlier.

The sink emerged from the wall as a curved basin of lighter colored wood.

Two curved hollow branchlets hung over the sink. I touched one and cool water started flowing, and was immediately absorbed when it hit the basin.

not quite right, but on this idea…*

It was mesmerizing to watch. I touched the other, and warm water flowed. These trees would certainly consume huge amounts of water to support all of these leaves and structures; a built-in recycling system, created out of the tree itself, made perfect sense. The lighter-colored wood of the basin must be the treeโ€™s xylem, its water conductive tissue. Ingenious.

On the opposite wall, a shower area was designated. The shower head faced down from the ceiling in the center of a lattice work not unlike the bed canopy. The walls were constructed of layers of leaves, which funneled the water to the same light-colored xylem floor. I was grateful for the warm water after fighting battles for two nights during the Bluebirdโ€™s performances.

When I emerged, wrapped in a thick fluffy robe that resembled cotton (though not any cotton known here), I found a new set of clothes on the chair aside the purple door. A folded note sat atop them. My new name on the front and the message inside were written in fine script:

~Please follow the red circles from the main foyer to my garden to break your fast. I look forward to meeting you.~

– Daphne Arborea

Hmmm, was this a summons? I didnโ€™t enjoy the idea of being summoned, but I was a guest in her house. Maybe I could ask more questions about this house. Maybe she would explain what a Passer is and how they are viewed.

Honestly, at that point, I wasnโ€™t sure what โ€˜Passerโ€™ meant. I assumed it meant something about how I had come here, but then that also meant there had to be more people who had come here from Earth. Had that gone badly in the past and now Passers were feared? I didnโ€™t get that feeling among the Bluebirds, but once we were here in Cragbend, the sentiment was different. And certainly that boy last night had been scared.

Speaking of that boy, along with Daphneโ€™s note, there was also a thrice-folded piece of paper, obviously torn from something else, with a note written in a childish hand on the inside:

Please donโ€™t take my Mamam with you when you go back to your home. I would miss her a lot, I love her so much. Please just go back home yourself and leave her with me.
Thank you,
Lignan Arborea

I knew it was the innocent plea of a scared child, but it was the stories that fueled the fear behind it that made me uneasy. I decided to take it to Daphne and ask what was going on.

The new garments were similar to my borrowed ones, but with dark green leaf patterns embroidered into the light green linen. Being a tree-oriented family, I wasnโ€™t surprised. My stomach rumbled and I proceeded out the door to meet Daphne Arborea.

Now that I was looking for them, I discovered a entire crayon box of colored shapes and circles on the floor, all going in separate directions, like breadcrumb trails of cereal winding down the halls and up the stairs. Upon closer inspection, the colorful bits were actually gemstones, gold, and crystals set into the wood floor as part of the nature scenes beneath my feet.

gemstone markers with gold nuggets in Rosewood’s floors

In the vast main foyer, where the original house remained, the floors were of the same patterns, the only difference being the noise my sandals made as I walked.

The effect the scenes created was like walking on an iced-over stream with gems set in the streambed, or a rocky forest path with colored trail markers lining the edge. It was so realistic I kept waiting for wet feet, or pebbles between my toes. I remembered what Raga said about Rosewood Manor always changing and wondered if the floor scenes did too.

I should stop here, so that next time we will meet with Daphne Arborea, matriarch of House Arborea. Stay tuned and don’t miss episode #9!


So, a floor inlaid with gemstones and gold nuggets as markers? What kind of place is this, right? I’ll let you in on something, gemstones are pretty commonplace in Huphaea. There are four Houses concerned with obtaining and working with them, so you can imagine what they produce. We will meet them later on, I promise!

How about the Manor itself, and what do you think Daphne Arborea will be like? Let me know in the comments below, don’t worry, you’ll find out soon!

If you want an extra peek into Huphaea and Elahna’s journey, subscribe to Collata, the Collection of Huphaea newsletter. Once, maybe twice a month, Nightingales get an exclusive snippet from my memory of my time away. Click the button below to join the Nightingales, I’m looking forward to welcoming you!

*All images not my own are from pxhere or unsplash as free for use in the public domain.

ยฉ2020 Eleanorah Starr and Quill & Orb Press, All Rights Reserved.

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #7

Hi Everyone! Hope you are all well as we pass the midpoint of June. Wow, time does fly. One fun fact about Ereth and Huphaea is that we share the same sun. The day length, therefore, is still the same for Elahna, but it is divided up into more ‘erdurs’ than twenty-four. How many more? Stay tuned for that, she will find out in an upcoming episode (which I need to write! Gah! Time!).

When we left Elahna last week, she was still with the Bluebirds, but they were heading to Rosewood Manor for a performance that evening. Shall we find out what happens next?


Rosewood Manor loomed in front of me, grown over and through by enormous trees that denied the sun once you entered under their canopy. Inside, the walls, arches, and columns of the cavernous corridor were a mixture of gray and tan stone embedded in trunks and limbs. Staircases were hewn from multiple leaders and branches wound into railings. Complex lattices of leaves and branchlets formed doors and window shutters. The Seat pulsed with energy and felt warm and alive to the touch.

Because of course, it was.

It was the most amazing structure I had ever seen. I gaped. I couldnโ€™t help myself.

I wish I could draw it for you. Yes, there were lights and hot water, but I donโ€™t think they were electric. Probably vitae powered. It was such an incredible place, especially for a plant lover like me.

Aymur Arborea greeted us in the grand main foyer. He reminded me of a smaller version of Paul Bunyan. But not clad in plaid. The backs of his hands were rough and lined like beech bark and his eyes were a brilliant green.

โ€œSo this is the Passer?โ€ That word again. โ€œElahna, is it?โ€

โ€œYes, sir. Pleased to meet you. Elements be.โ€ I raised my hand, palm out, as I had seen others do.

โ€œElements be, well met. Fife has told me your story as he knows it. I admit, I am intrigued. I sent a bird to my kinswoman, the Queen, for advice on the matter. She replied to send you on to Irillo and perhaps the Scholars can help get you home. For tonight, though, be our welcome guest at my mother Daphneโ€™s request and enjoy the Bluebird show. In the morning we will discuss travel.โ€

โ€œThank you, sir.โ€ I nodded in respect.

Fife clapped a strong arm around my shoulders. โ€œAh, youโ€™re in good hands now, fla, Madame Daphneโ€™s a fine hostess. I wish you luck in getting home, and if you donโ€™t, perhaps weโ€™ll meet again.โ€ He winked and raised his palm. โ€œElements be.โ€

โ€œThank you so much, Fife. For everything. Elements be.โ€

And just like that, I was an outsider again. I did want to see Fife and the Bluebirds again. I felt indebted to them for their acceptance and help. I could only hope if there was a next time, I would be in a position to repay them somehow. I had a feeling debts were part of the currency in Huphaea, or at least in Eflary.

The Arboreans made me welcome in every way possible, but they couldnโ€™t hide the furtive glances. โ€˜Passerโ€™ was tossed around behind hands or whispered into pointed ears. The unwanted attention increased through the meal, and I was glad to see the show start.

No, the people werenโ€™t nasty or anything, but it was like being the new kid in school. Uncomfortable.

Oh yes, the show was magnificent. I was just as exhausted as the night before. My brain spun with new legends and song impressions. Haha! I only wish I could tell you some, I mostly remember images and sensations. I wouldnโ€™t do them justice.

The hall emptied, Bluebirds heading back to their camp, and Seat residents seeking their quarters. I wandered down the corridor I had been shown when I passed a woman and a young boy. The boy shrank back from me, clutching his motherโ€™s leg and hand as though I might steal him. โ€œWhat if she tries to take you back to her home with her?โ€ he wailed. โ€œNo, Mamam, you canโ€™t go!โ€

โ€œHush, Lignan! Donโ€™t be silly! Passers donโ€™t steal people. Iโ€™ve been called to Forelore and so has she, it only makes sense that we travel together. Itโ€™s time for your visit with your pater anyway. Heโ€™ll be here tomorrow to get you. Stop your whining, you are too old to cry about such things.โ€ She flicked a quick glance at me and marched him away.

I quickened my pace, counting the doors on the right to the fifth one. It was deep purple. I yanked it open and then closed in one motion. Locating the bed through my teary eyes, I flopped face down and let out my fear until I fell asleep.

It wasn’t my finest moment, for sure. I was just glad to be out of the whispers and didn’t want to think about what that boy meant. This is a good place to stop, and I promise the next day is much more upbeat!


Can you imagine how Elahna felt after hearing the boy’s outburst? She has had an amazing two days though! Leave a comment below and let me know what you’d be thinking at this point- would you want to go home, or stay?

Remember to subscribe to Collata, The Collection of Huphaea’s official newsletter! The next issue is coming out very soon, so keep an eye on your inbox if you are already a Nightingale. If not, hit the subscribe button below and join Eleanorah’s troupe!

ยฉ2020 Eleanorah Starr and Quill & Orb Press. All Rights Reserved.

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #6

Hello Everyone! It’s a steamy, tropical day here, perfect for sitting with my words (as long as the computer doesn’t frazzle out with humidity) and reminiscing. There is so much about Huphaea I wish I could share with you in reality, though I hope our story sessions do inspire happy emotions and active imaginations ๐Ÿ˜Š. Stories are intrinsic to us as humans and provide a little refuge when it all gets ‘a bit crazy out there.’ I hope you are all well and safe ๐Ÿ’›. Nightingales, look for a new issue of Collata in your inbox soon!

When we last left Elahna, she had just had her world rocked by the Madrigal Bluebird troup’s mind-blowing performances and some tavern ale… let’s see how she is feeling the next day…~


Town of Cragbend, Seat of Scion Arborea, House Gaiist

Morning found me wrapped in a soft blanket in a pavilion. The sounds of an active camp and smells of sausage and eggs floated around me. I sat up and felt the dull pound I expected in my head. Ugh. This was gonna suck. The tavern ale had hit like good-natured boxerโ€”hard, but with a jolly laugh. I remembered laughing a lot, and oh, jeeeyyyz my body felt battered, I just hoped I hadnโ€™t acted too much a fool. Right then, Raga stuck his head in the door and grinned.

Bluebird camp*

โ€œAh! You live! Iโ€™ll call Poet in, I can imagine you need her services.โ€

What did that mean? โ€œOh, ah, Iโ€™m good, thanks,โ€ but my attempt to stand up betrayed me. He chuckled again.

Poet ducked inside and knelt beside me. โ€œHere, letโ€™s see if I can help some.โ€ She put one hand on the front of my head and one on the back and started to hum in a low tone. When she stopped after a minute or so, the pounding had subsided into a tolerable ache.

I gazed at her in wonder. โ€œHow did you do that? Are you a healer too?โ€

Vitae works wonders…*

โ€œNo, not as such, itโ€™s just another aspect of my singing ability. I use my voice to create, but I can also draw away with it. The bits I canโ€™t fix some food will. Come on. We saved some for you.โ€

As we walked through camp, I noticed many of the others watching us overtly. I caught the word โ€˜Passerโ€™ several times in whispered tones and my self-consciousness came rushing back. I didnโ€™t belong here. I had to find a way home.

“There’s the Passer. Is she staying here?”*

Did I want to go home? Well, that was the REAL question. Kinda yes, and kinda no. I definitely wanted to know more about this land of Huphaea, its amazing people, the magic, dragons(!), but would I be welcome to?

Fife greeted me heartily and Tango hugged my legs. โ€œWell, fla, unfortunately the Orderly isnโ€™t here at the moment, though Iโ€™ll say your head seemed fine last night, if a bit ale-addled. You sure have some stories to tell and some strange words. Hopefully Raga let you sleep once you were tucked away in the pavilion, eh?โ€ He waggled his eyebrows and winked at me.

I felt my face burn crimson. Oh god, I had no memory of even walking back to campโ€”and Raga wasnโ€™t there to save me. Oh no, what did I do? Would Poet hate me? She didnโ€™t seem to, but that could be a front until later. Ugh.

I passed the day helping where I could to be useful, to keep my mind off what might have happened that I didn’t remember.

The cartwrights had indeed set up a mobile workshop of sorts out by the wagons and were busy fitting new wheels, replacing axle shafts, applying grease to hubs, repairing cracks in the walls and floors, and there was even a painter. The last two individuals held my attention for a while. They were absorbed in their work, but the lack of tools and jars normally seen with menders and painters was glaring to me.

The mender was a bearded man in a red vest. He ran his long fingers over every inch of the wagon box to my left. When he detected some unseen anomaly, he stopped and placed his opposite hand into the bucket he carried with him. Something would flow, seemingly from the fingers of his first hand, onto the wood. When he was satisfied, he removed the hand from the bucket and continued pressing and smoothing the spot. It made me think of applying caulking or glue to a crack. When he moved away, a bright spot of new wood shone. The more I watched, the more it became obvious that he was drawing on the contents of the bucket to fill the cracksโ€”but through his hands and body? I didn’t want to stare too long, but I was mesmerized. At that moment, the painter approached the wagon to my right.

“Elements be. Did you paint these coaches? They are astoundingly beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“Elements be. Oh, I did not paint them originally, but I have worked on them several times when the Bluebirds are in Cragbend. They are lovely pieces. All of the Madrigal caravans are stunning.” The woman was young, with shorter, straight black hair woven into rows of braids that were pulled back from her face. Her highly pointed ears poked out between the rows and corralled numerous paint brushes. She carried a flat palette with a large dollop of white paint on it. Her smile was small, perhaps shy, but her lavender eyes radiated confidence and warmth. She wore a white sleeveless shirt and not a spot of color marred it.

“Forgive me for asking, but can you tell me what he is doing? It looks like he is repairing cracks, but I can’t see how.”

She grinned now, it was lopsided but full of openness. “He is repairing cracks, yes. See how he finds the weaknesses with one hand by touch, and then applies the sawdust in the bucket to it. His talent is transformative. The sawdust becomes a form he can work into the anomalies to re-strengthen them. They appear as new wood, then I come along and color them to match. I’m guessing you are the Passer everyone is talking about.”

“Oh, um, yes I am.” My eyes slid to the side, a bit embarrassed. Just then, she plucked a brush from an ear, dipped it into the white paint and touched up the design where the new wood gleamed. The paint brushed on in the exact colors necessary! My mouth fell open a bit and I drew a tiny sharp breath. She glanced back at me with that grin again.

white brushes leave color?*

“Creating color is my gift,” she said, before I could even splutter a question.

“But, how? How did you make something white into all those shades of blue just there? I don’t see any dyes or pigments on your board.”

โ€œMy talent is transformative, too. There is plenty of pigment all around us, in the form of light. Itโ€™s filled with color.โ€

โ€œYou use light? Like channeling it into the paint or something?โ€ I didnโ€™t care that I sounded like an idiot.

โ€œYes, very much like that! I see light and colors very differently when I invoke my talent. It allows me to see color in its parts so I can draw the light I need to create the exact colors.โ€ She kept painting as she spoke, the strokes leaving color that blended perfectly with the surroundings.

โ€œThatโ€™s amazing. Do others have that ability too?โ€

โ€œSome, sure. There are others who are Herballs who have like ability, but they do work with the actual dyes and pigments in plants. Their work is best for garments and fabrics, candles, more softer materials. The coaches are always outside, so light-based color makes the most sense for their artwork. Itโ€™s constantly being refreshed that way.โ€

โ€œWow, Iโ€™m,โ€ฆ thank you. I donโ€™t know what to say, there is nothing like that where Iโ€™m from. And this type of color makes so much more sense to me! Thank you for indulging my curiosity. I should get back and be useful. Enjoy your day! Elements be!โ€ I raised my left palm and smiled as I turned away.

โ€œElements be, youโ€™re welcome. Enjoy your stay.โ€ She tipped her palette to me in goodbye and went back to embellishing wood with light.

I caught up with Fife next as I crossed the camp. He said he had spoken with Aymur Arborea last night about finding me some help to get home. I tried not to look too disappointed. He had been so generous, I didnโ€™t want to be ungrateful, and I knew I couldnโ€™t stay with the troupe as I had no talent to offer. I was going to miss them though.

The Bluebirds had been such a help to me over the past dayโ€”it was hard to believe I had only been in Huphaea for a day!

What was that? Oh, no, I never did get an answer that day from Raga about the night before. I lived with that question for quite a while, mind you. And Poet never said a word ๐Ÿคท๐Ÿผโ€โ™€๏ธ.

We’ll leave it here for today, the next post will take us to Rosewood Manor and the delights that await there!


What did you think about the mender’s and painter’s abilities? Amazing, right? Would you want to go home if you were in Elahna’s shoes? Leave a comment below and let us know!

Remember to subscribe to Collata, the Collection of Huphaea newsletter. The second issue will be out soon with some more exclusive content, from a youngster this time ๐Ÿ˜ƒ. Hit the subscribe button below and become a Nightingale!

*images other than Cragbend map from pxhere or unsplash as free for all use images

ยฉ 2020 Eleanorah Starr and Quill & Orb Press. All rights reserved.

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #5

Hello everyone! All the wishes to your health and sanity as we continue to cope with pandemic issuesโ€”stay strong! Can you believe we are about to enter June? We have had a taste of summer where I live, the sticky humid part of summer, after a looooonnnnng, very cool spring. It’s been quite a shock to the system, like Elahna going from insulated boots to summer sandals in one day. A hint of times to come, for sure.

So, when we last spoke, Elahna was just digesting the fact that there are dragons in this land. Raga, Poet, and Fife had a bit of a chuckle at her expense and she learned you do not have a dragon, ever. Dragons impart knowledge, but you should have a consarned good reason for speaking with one. Let’s continue on to Cragbend with the troupe, shall we?


closer to Cragbend…*

The homesteads on the nearer approach to Cragbend got a little smaller, but no less affluent.

*

Many had painted or carved wooden signs hanging by the road with various items depicted- chairs, bowls, cabinets, casks, wagons.

*

Vegetables grew in meticulous gardens and conical hay stacks populated shorn fields.

*

My nervousness returned as we entered the rustic town, but was forgotten in the activity of making camp in the field beside the Cleft Barrel. I was assigned to the horse lines with a young musician named Tenor. He pounded stakes for pickets while I secured the horses and doled out the feed.

By the time we finished, a fire roared in a central, stacked stone pit. Childrenโ€™s laughter gamboled through the air as they peeled vegetables for stew and hurled the scraps at each other or the chickens.

cooking in the Bluebirds’ camp…*

Numerous brightly colored tents and pavilions now dotted the field.

Troupe members scurried around like ants, each with their own tasks to attend to in the familiar dance of pitching camp. The hulking shapes of the wagons formed an arc on the right side, nearer the road, like protective sphinxes crouched on their haunches. Tenor explained how, in towns where there wasnโ€™t a Seat or large pub to perform in, they could fasten the wagons together by a series of collapsible panels to form a large stage.

Several times I caught myself studying the exquisite workmanship of the conveyances. Each wagon had a domed, retractable bonnet dyed mostly in shades of blue with other colors dancing through the swirls of ocean and sky. Ornate carvings of bluebirds perching on branches, clinging to rushes, and singing streams of notes adorned the sidewalls and rear panels. The skillful use of fire had fashioned the bas relief murals, which were painted to life in greens, browns, gold, and myriad blues. The heavy wooden wheels and fluted running gear paired seamlessly. Thick metal pins secured the junctures, but also meant the wheels could be taken off with ease for repairs or stage construction. They were rolling works of marvelous, versatile art.

“Not only are they beautiful, but they are multi-functional? And I’ve never seen so many shades of blue.”

Tenor’s shy smile acknowledged the compliment before he spoke.

โ€œThey are all made here. In the morning, youโ€™ll see a few men wandering around checking them over. They get maintained every time we are in Cragbend. Many of the other troupes get their coaches here too.โ€ Tenorโ€™s voice was rich and easy to listen to, I wondered why he played the lap harp instead of singing.

โ€œHow many other troupes are there?โ€

โ€œFive others, each bearing a different color. Hence the predominance of blue with us, like Fifeโ€™s donjar torc.โ€

โ€œWhere is your home town? How long have you been on tour?โ€

โ€œWe are always home.โ€ He waved at the wagons. โ€œOur life is on tour. We may stay in one place for a bit if there is a festival, or bad weather, but only until a weather-worker restores the skies.โ€

I let out a deep breath, rolling my eyes to myself. Drinking was certainly in order tonight.

Of course, being from New England, the idea of a weather-worker was just too good to be true. People could control the weather? Iโ€™d have to see that to believe it, for sure. I had now lost count of all the crazy things that were commonplace here.

like the Cleft Barrel*

The Cleft Barrel was a large, two-story pub at the forkroad in the center of Cragbend. The first floor was large and comfortable for eating and social activity; the second floor held lodgings, judging by the many doors I glimpsed. This night, the center of the main floor had been cleared for the Bluebirds’ performance. The townsfolk filled tables and benches against the walls and children crowded the balcony that ringed the upper floor.

โ€œLooks like they knew you were coming.โ€

โ€œOf course. We sent a bird ahead when we left Irillo, to let the cartwrights know we would be here for maintenance for a couple days. They undoubtedly passed the word. Itโ€™s an event when the Madrigal troupes are in town,โ€ Poet replied, putting Tangoโ€™s hand in mine. โ€œFollow the young ones upstairs, youโ€™ll have the best view from there.โ€ She spun around and made for the convening Bluebirds before I could protest. Tango grinned up at me then pulled my arm out straight as he followed the rest of the troupe kids to the stairs.

They were right. We could see everything from our vantage, but the show included SO much more than visuals. I will never forget any of the Madrigal performances I saw.

I figured out quickly that Madrigals all have magical abilities according to their roles. The two storytellers began the night with a tale for the children akin to Jack and the Beanstalk.

ladybugs!*

Before I knew what was happening, I was high in the air, clinging onto a giant vine. A breeze blew through my hair with the scent of honeysuckle. The giant ladybugs pursuing me were far too close for comfort, I could see their beady red eyes and hear their scuttling legs. I turned around to continue climbing when an enormous black and yellow spider bearing the hero of the story on its back stepped over me. The prickly hairs on its legs brushed my back. The crowd cheered and the children around me whooped and yelled as the ladybugs were vanquished.

*

Then I was back on the balcony with Tango dancing in my lap.

Yeah, it was astounding. I still donโ€™t really have words to describe it. The shows were always mind-blowing.

Some of that night I spent in bloody battles fighting vampire armies (yup, they exist here too), courtesy of Fife, and endured captivity in a lone tower until the shape-shifting farm boy rescued me. The singers caroled a tour of the continent, highlighting the abilities of the Elemental Families. Poetโ€™s lilting voice wove color and sensation into my drone-like flight above a life-size map. Sometimes a Family would be cheered by members in the crowd, others garnered faint gibes or snickers. All I could think was that the virtual reality games I knew were a joke.

No, God no. Movies donโ€™t even remotely come close. Even 3D motion rides canโ€™t compare to the power of Madrigal magic. Itโ€™s beyond this world.

Players, like Raga, turned amazing acrobatic routines, juggled far too many and dangerous objects (even people!) effortlessly, and took mime to a new level. Puppeteer Calliope enlivened her hand-crafted minions from afar, no strings necessary. Poet provided the vocals for the Punch-and-Judyesque shorts, her bawdy banter had the ale-stoked crowd’s full attention and eager participation.

The Madrigals created playgrounds for ALL the senses and satisfied everyone, 100% of the time.

By the end of the evening, I was exhausted. I could barely carry a sleeping Tango downstairs to join the troupe. Fife took one look at my face and laughed until he cried, thrusting a tankard of something at me. โ€œHere you go, Fla, thatโ€™ll fix you. Did you enjoy the show?โ€

I nodded, smiling wearily, and sampled the drink. I had read about tavern ale so much in fantasy books that I wasnโ€™t surprised, but it was STRONG. Like the strongest craft beer on steroids. Between the ale and the interactive show, I was gonna pay tomorrowโ€ฆ

books don’t do tavern ale justice…*

Oh, and don’t you know I certainly did! We can leave off here for this episode, stay safe and I’ll see you next time!~


The Madrigal shows sound amazing, don’t they? Like virtual reality without the silly glasses. I bet she never looks at ladybugs or garden spiders the same! Would you enjoy a performance like that? Drop a comment below and let me know!

Collata, the Collection of Huphaea newsletter has had it’s first issue! If you want to get in on exclusive anecdotes, out-takes, and graphics from Eleanorah’s journey once or twice a month, hit the subscribe button below. Become a Nightingale!

*All photos with asterisk and the pavilion photo from pxHere or Unsplash for free use.

ยฉ2020 Eleanorah Starr and Quill & Orb Press. All Rights Reserved.

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #3

Hi Folks, welcome back! I hope you are all staying safe and making the best of the twists and turns the world is throwing at us. I’m glad you came by here briefly to hear the story about my time in Huphaea. I’m happy to help bring a little smile to your day ๐Ÿ˜Š, I hope.

When we last left Elahna, she had just met a group of travelers in a forest, on the way to a town called Cragbend

the road through Venrood Forest…

โ€œCragbend?โ€

โ€œSure, the townโ€™s up ahead, thatโ€™s where weโ€™re headed. Youโ€™re in the Venrood Forest, where did you think you were?โ€

โ€œI have no idea. Iโ€™m not from here.โ€ (Oh shit, probably shouldnโ€™t have said that). โ€œI mean, I just donโ€™t know where I am.โ€

He was peering at me more closely now, no doubt noticing my strange clothing. โ€œAs you said. Well, heyโ€” Raga! Hold a moment! Weโ€™ll take this one into town with us. Sheโ€™s had a long go of it, by the looks.โ€ One of the wagons slowed at his call and the driver turned in his seat. โ€œIโ€™m Fife, donjar of the Bluebird troupe you see here. We can at least get you to town, so you can start finding your folk.โ€ He smiled and waved toward the stopped wagon. โ€œJust hop up there aside Raga, he wonโ€™t bite, though Poet might! Ha ha!โ€

Fifeโ€™s easy jocularity put me at ease, and Raga was no different. I climbed up onto the driving seat, stuffing my bundle of long underwear and coat underneath.

Raga raised his left hand, palm out, and said โ€œElements be, well met. Iโ€™m Raga, as you know. Poet is in back there with her and my son Tango. Did someone leave you out here?โ€ I noted the humor in Ragaโ€™s tone, perhaps this was a common occurrence.

โ€œAh, no. I justโ€ฆโ€

Fife reined in alongside the wagon as we started to move again, clearly interested in what I had to say. Being eye level now, I got a better look at him. His pleasant broad face reflected curiosity, but his marbled blue and green eyes were intent and observant. Long, dark hair was bound at his neck and a leather thong held a large, cerulean blue, teardrop-shaped pendant just below his throat.

โ€œItโ€™s gonna sound really stupid, but I arrived here somehow. I donโ€™t know how. Please, what state are we in, or what country?โ€

โ€œHmmm, well now, Iโ€™m not sure what a โ€˜stateโ€™ is, but the country is Eflary. These are House Gaiist lands, and we are headed to Cragbend, the Seat of the Arborea scion. Whatโ€™s your name, Fla?โ€

I didnโ€™t know what โ€˜Flaโ€™ was, but Fife made it sound nice, and not threatening.

โ€œElahna. Elahna Starr.โ€ I made a last second decision to shorten my first name. If I was in a new place, why not have a new name? I had always wanted a nickname, and Elahna was easier to say. They all seemed to have short names, so it made sense in that moment. I didnโ€™t regret the choice.

โ€œOh, Starr! Are you from Astros, Solarelle or Lunad lands, then?โ€ Fife leaned forward a bit to look at the side of my head, at my ear, maybe? โ€Or maybe Zenidd or Fairmoon is a better guess?โ€

That was when I noticed his ears formed a graceful point at the top. Woah! No way, an elf?

I know my eyes widened, though I tried to keep them steady.

He recoiled a bit, thinking I was offended, and held up his palm, โ€œIโ€™m sorry, Helican, then? Though Starr would certainly have one think Fairmoon, but you see all kinds.โ€ He chuckled trying to recover. โ€œDo you know what lands you hail from, at least?โ€

I took a quick look at Raga, and there too! Poking out from his wavy russet hair, his ears were pointed, though not as sharply as Fifeโ€™s. His eyes were an ochre brown and his face was finer in structure, but still smiling. He quirked the side of his mouth a bit more at me, and I turned away, embarrassed. This was getting crazy, now I was in the company of elves?

โ€œItโ€™s fine, Fla, you donโ€™t need to tell us if you donโ€™t want to. Do you have the coin to get yourself back home, though? The Zenidd lands are several days ride from here, at least.โ€ Fifeโ€™s voice held some concern, while my angst continued to grow.

โ€œNo, I, โ€“I only have my clothes and this bundle of heavier clothes. I, โ€“what am I gonna do when we get to town? I fell through some kind of portal and ended up in a stone chamber back there in the woods. I tried to go back through, but nothing happened. So I have no way to pay for anythingโ€ฆ and nowhere to go.โ€ The words tumbled out in a flood and I noticed the din of conversation around us had died, most likely in response to the rising pitch of my voice. Reality settled around me like a cloak.

But still, was this real?

A firm, but gentle hand rested on my forearm. I turned and was met by a stunning, heart-shaped face framed by white-blonde hair. The intermittent lavender braids made her blue and green eyes stand out all the more. They were the same eyes as Fifeโ€™s.

โ€œDonโ€™t worry, Fla. You can stay among us for the night, and tomorrow we can figure out what to do. We have most of the day before we are due at Rosewood to perform in the evening.โ€ She smiled, but I was entranced by her melodic voice. Poet. That was the only word for her.

“I’m Poet. Fife wonโ€™t leave you berift, will you, Donjar? You can see our show tonight at the Cleft Barrel. The food is excellent and itโ€™s always a right show.” She squeezed my arm a bit, and the small, ruddy-cheeked boy in her lap clapped his hands and laughed. He had hair more coppery than Raga but with the same rounder face, finely pointed ears that almost curled back into themselves at the tips, and dark blue eyes marbled with amber instead. He grinned at me, never taking his eyes from my face. This child was NOT shy.

โ€œOf course you will stay with us.โ€ Fifeโ€™s deep voice broke my wordless exchange with Tango. โ€œWe have plenty of room, no one will know you arenโ€™t part of the troupe. Well, except for those clothesโ€ฆ Let me see if some of the other girls have extras you can borrow ’til tomorrow. Thereโ€™s more to you than Poet. Maybe we can find an Orderly as well, sort you out straight.โ€ He touched his horseโ€™s neck and they moved on ahead toward the other members of the troupe.

I sat a bit more upright. An Orderly? That didnโ€™t sound so good to me, though he spoke as if it was nothing. โ€œWhatโ€™s an Orderly?โ€

But I didn’t get an answer.

God, yes! My mind WAS freaking out. But all of the troupe members were so unconcerned and jovial, I couldnโ€™t help but relax also. Itโ€™s hard to be uptight when everyone around you is laughing and talking.

This is a great place to break for today, next time we will make it into Cragbend, and see if Elahna meets an Orderly… Thank you for stopping by, I will see you soon!


Don’t forget to leave a comment about the story so far, how would you feel being in a strange land?

Remember to subscribe to Collata, Eleanorah Starr’s newsletter about The Collection of Huphaea. You will get exclusive outtakes and info about the adventure, become a Nightingale!