Tag #writingfiction

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #25

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

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.

Image by Albrecht Fietz from Pixabay 

On the other side of the road a similar expanse was dotted with round, brown cattle, their heads bent cropping the lush grasses.

Image by Steve Bidmead from Pixabay 

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.

Image by No-longer-here from Pixabay 

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.

Photo by form PxHere

“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!⬇

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©2021 Eleanorah Starr & Red Leaf Word Services. All Rights Reserved.

Insecure Writers Support Group April Post

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener 1 Comment

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?

*Image by mohamed Hassan from Pixabay

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.

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #23

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

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!~

*Image by LoggaWiggler from Pixabay

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.

*Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay

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.

*Image by こうこう きちでん from Pixabay 

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.

*Image by JamesDeMers from Pixabay 

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.”

*Image by whaltns17 from Pixabay 

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:

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The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #22

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

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?~

*Image by MeHe from Pixabay 

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.”

*Image by Lars_Nissen from Pixabay 

“Hence why Lissa mentioned the planetree to you?”

“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.

*Image by T Caesar from Pixabay 

“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.

*Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay

“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.

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

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

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

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

*Photo by form PxHere

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

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

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

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

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

*Photo by Kerterui form PxHere

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only?”

*Photo by form PxHere

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Reblog — Thinking Fiction: What’s Next for Novelists? — An American Editor

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Writing fiction has its advantages—you get to make stuff up. But what happens when you draw on what you know (as we all do) and then EVERYTHING changes mid-draft? Did your writing change from pre-pandemic to post-pandemic and how do you handle that? I found this a very thought-provoking article that touched on some of the wrinkles many authors may dance around.~

Carolyn Haley Thanks to our collective and often-divisive experiences over the past year, I’ll wager we all agree that 2020 was one heckuva rough ride with long-term consequences yet to be known. The events have introduced new concerns specific to fiction writers, editors, agents, and publishers. For instance, should authors of contemporary fiction include the […]

Thinking Fiction: What’s Next for Novelists? — An American Editor