Spring, Week 10 - The Traveling Troubadour

To hear the narration and to learn how I put this episode together, check out this video:

*****

 It's been a tough few weeks. The whole mess with the mayor... it's been stressful. And I've been avoiding people, companionship, even friendships. I know there are people in High Rannoc who support me. I'm feeling lonely, despite having penpals in the Here Yet Not Here and the friendly faces of everyone and everything living on the grounds. I think I'm ready to face down the rumour mongers and spend a bit of time amongst friends. Or, at the very least, be in town and show everyone that I'm not ashamed to show my face. I'll ride into town on Vapour Trail, all lit up and beautiful, and... and there is no 'and'. I'll just go and be brave and face whatever needs facing.

Despite coming to a decision about what I'm going to do, I've found myself doing little things here and there which, were anyone to judge my actions, could view them as avoidance. Not that I'd agree with that conclusion! It's just that, when faced with something that could go badly, and quickly, socially, I find that there are things that I see that need doing before taking on anything new. Like the cauldron needing a good scrubbing. The hearth needs a good sweep. The chimney should get a good scrubbing to keep the creosote under control. The...

"Hello, hello! To the faire I go!

I know the way, just steps away

and maybe it won't start today

but I'll keep singing anyway!"

So... I'm covered, head to toe, in black ash and grime and there's someone approaching the cottage singing exuberantly. I hope it's not someone suffering from a singing sickness needing immediate treatment! It'll take days just to get to a semblance of clean! And still the singing got closer.

"Hello, hello! Is anybody home?

I'm free to roam, with no fixed home

Is anybody home?"

And then a knock.

Now, as to how this bard didn't see me on the roof as I finished up the chimney... I was hiding. Yes - I, Mistress Sweetwater, witch of High Rannoc and environs, was lying down on the roof trying hard to not be noticed. The lonely witch, absolutely covered in soot, avoiding a knock at the door, and I...

"There's a bard knocking at the door." I realized, with MouseEye's voice coming from in front of me, that I'd closed my eyes. Because apparently that helped me hide better! So I opened them and, sure enough, MouseEye was up on the roof with me, crouching down, hiding, too.

"I know!", I hissed.

"Are you going to answer it?" MouseEye's eyes glittered with mischief. 

"No!"

"Ok. I will." And before I could stop him, he ran, sprang, and disappeared. I groaned inwardly. And then I heard, "Just one moment please! Mistress Sweetwater is indisposed. Please come in and make yourself comfortable."

There was no helping it. Now I had to come down and deal with... someone. Great.

"She's making herself at home. You're welcome." MouseEye was lying down next to me again, grinning. I swear, MouseEye should be happy I can't literally shoot daggers out of my eyes because at this moment I was trying really hard to make them shoot something. Given his impudent grin, I was indeed shooting something, but something less deadly and more ticklish. 

Fine. Fine! I'm going to handle this the best way I can. I stood up, called for Vapour Trail, and waited for a second.

Ok - it was a little longer than a second. It was exactly long enough for the visitor to stride out from the cottage and watch as I caught my broom, jump off the roof, and settle onto the ground. I think I felt a small cloud of ash rise up with my landing.

We both started talking at the same time, then quickly stopped. Then the bard made a grand gesture and said, "Pleased to meet you, Mistress Sweetwater. I'm the Traveling Troubadour, Bess by name, bard by trade, minstrel to all far and wide."

I smiled. I couldn't help myself. There was something just so... familiar. Easy. Fun. And it was infectious. I'd certainly caught something that turned my mood 180 degrees. "I'm afraid Mistress Sweetwater isn't here just yet. But I dare say that in an hour, and after a really good wash, she'll be here. For right now, just call me Ash. Ly. Ashly. 

Her eyes glittered back. "Ashly, can I get your Mistress' fire going while you wash up?"

"That would be delightful. Thank you."

And that was that. I took a towel and a lot of soap with me to the stream and Bess got the fire going.

It felt like forever to get all the grime off and feel clean. By which I mean almost all the grime because it just wouldn't all wash off!

Note to self - self-sufficiency is nice, but I bet I could hire help and not feel like I'm a walking ash pit. Even the few coughs I've had are a smokey grey! But I finally got to where I didn't feel filthy anymore, then headed back to the cottage. 

I hadn't forgotten that I had a visitor but I did sort of lose track of it because I couldn't help but be a little surprised when I walked into the cottage and Bess was there in front of the fire, looking at the spirit house. 

"You look cleaner. And a lot happier for it."

"Would you mind if...?" and I gestured to the door. 

She nodded in acknowledgement, then closed the door behind her. I took a minute to get dried off and dressed, and then opened the door. I didn't see her right away, but coming from a short way off was quiet singing. I followed the sound and found Bess sitting under a tree.

 "Either that was a very quick hour that passed or you are a much cleaner Ashly."

"No. It's Mistress Sweetwater now. Or just Sweet. It felt like it'd take an hour just to start to feel clean! Would you like some tea?"

"I'd love some!"

We chatted all the way back to the cottage. Which, to be honest, was very unusual for me. When people come to the cottage, they come with a purpose, i.e. to be cured of some affliction. And then they leave. And I like it like that. And so, to be happy and chatty with anyone is really unusual. 

"It's a hazard of the profession", she said when I mentioned it to her. "When you travel around, meeting people, hearing news, learning stories, you have to be approachable, charismatic even. So don't worry - you aren't the first person to feel like you're in danger of talking my ear off!" She laughed as she told me.

We'd settled into the cottage, drinking tea, trading stories. She told me about some places she'd visited, "... but I haven't been to the Imperial City. Yet. One day." And some of her adventures. "But enough about me! How'd you get me talking so much?"

I told her about being a witch, of some of my cures, places I'd been, and some of my adventures. By the time we'd traded stories, the day was well along. I'd been talking so much I didn't notice until the slanting sun shone through a window. "Oh my goodness! I just realized I'm famished. You must be too. Can I invite you to stay for dinner? It's not much but it is tasty." She gratefully accepted.

As I cooked, she sang and told stories. Most of the time it was in Commonspeak but here and there were different languages - some sound vaguely familiar while others were just plain strange.

After eating and cleaning up, I asked if she needed a place to sleep. "It's awfully generous but I've got a wagon and donkey parked by the entryway to your footpath here. Marvin, that's my donkey, will be fine - he's got plenty to eat. And my wagon's got a bed in it. That's one thing I got early on in my travels! It may sound romantic to sleep under the stars or even under a tent, but a real bed is priceless. So I'm all set for tonight.

"But I do want to thank you for your hospitality today. Would it be ok if I made us some breakfast tomorrow before I head into the town?"

"Thank you! Sounds lovely. Oh - are you here for the Spring Festival? It's not for three weeks yet, but I believe it's quite the thing."

"Three weeks early? I... I guess I lost track of the days! It's longer than I usually stay in any one place, but let's see how things go and if it makes sense, I'll stay for it."

The sun was on the verge of dipping below the horizon when Bess, whistling, made her way towards her wagon.

And as I went to bed, I felt... it was like a warm spot in my soul. I have penpals (and a Best Bestie!) but this, this instantaneous friendship, is wonderful!

I woke up the next morning in a fantastic mood. And yes, it was before the sun rose! I wanted the day to start and to be long and wonderful.

Before it gets asked - yes, I had the fire up and ready to go. What I had for plates and cutlery were polished. Multiple times. It kept me from pacing in the cottage. Staying in the cottage kept me from knocking on a certain someone's wagon door!

"Nervous much?", said a bleary-eyed mouse.

"No! Why would I be?"

"No reason. Silly of me to ask."

It was a good question. Why was I so... not nervous, exactly, but... ummm... nervous. I guess. But not a bad nervous! A good nervous. A...

"Knock knock!", said the very welcome figure who stepped in.

"Hi!", I chirped. 

She laughed throatily. "You're quite awake. Sleep ok?"

"I did! And you?"

"So good. Ready for breakfast a la Bess?"

"Ravenous."

"Good! Then let's get cooking!"

Bess surveyed what I had, then grabbed a few ingredients and started cooking. It smelled... ummm... how to put it?... alarmingly bad. 

"Can I help?", I asked as I peered over her shoulder. 

There was this look on her face, a comical mix of apology, embarrassment, and overwhelm. "I really wanted to surprise you with a good breakfast. And I think I really wanted to surprise myself with the ability to make one! But... ah... it's not to be this morning. I'm sorry I've wasted the food."

"No worries! How about this - you tell a tale or two and I'll whip up a couple of omelettes tout de suite." 

I tossed her cooking atrocity out and quickly replaced it with my plain Jane (but filling and tasty) fair. Meanwhile, she told a story about the love of a fisherman, who lived along a river, for a river nymph and the child that was born from that relationship. His name was Bank and he lived a remarkable life. It was as if the spirit of humanity and the river water combined to form someone who could go with the flow when needed but could also blast through and around any and all obstacles in his way. He became a wise mayor, a beneficent provider, and a fierce protector. When he died at the ripe old age of 352 years, his body was placed in the river, where it literally dissolved and washed away. 

I had to force myself to not pay all my attention to her telling - I didn't want to scrap yet another breakfast attempt!

As we ate, I decided to tease Bess a little. "Where did you learn your cookery skills?" I grinned as I asked.

She took a minute to chew a few extra, and perhaps not absolutely necessary, times. "I... ah... didn't spend much time in kitchens, growing up. I was... ah... doing other things. Other chores. You know?"

I had to ask. "So... what were you trying to put together this morning?"

She gave me a weak smile. "Tavern keepers make it look so easy - just throw things together and have it be delicious. So I figured, how hard can it be? Now I know! I should've stuck with roasting miscellaneous rodent and/or birds on a spit over an open fire."

"Open fire - check. But I'm a bit short on rodent."

We both laughed and finished eating. We both started to say, "Shall we...?", then stopped.

I looked at her, crossed my arms, then said, "Well? Shall we?" And she did the same back. "Well? Shall we?" And laughing, we both said "yes" at the same time. And then we both just stood there. Which was funny on its own. 

"What did we just say we should do?", I asked.

"I thought it was some combination of cleaning up, then heading into High Rannoc. I need to ingratiate myself at a local tavern..."

"The. There's only one. The Copper Fox."

"... right. Right! The tavern. And start playing sets. That brings in customers which then brings me silver, and the occasional free drink, and everyone is happy."

"Ok. Good! And I'll.. I guess..."

"Why, you shall provide cures as needed, listen enraptured to me, and overall have a good time. What say you?"

It sounded good. Great even. It'd be nice to have a reason to stay in town for a while, socialize a bit (and hopefully that silly mayor business had, or would, blow over), and just relax. It'd be a rare treat. We cleaned up, then headed to her wagon.

To say it's a modest wagon is, well... accurate. It's quite small and, in essence, a tiny cabin on wheels. Painted on each side of the cabin walls are painted pictures of Bess and a mandolin. Words certainly weren't needed - the pictures got the idea across. And besides, I don't think a lot of people know how to read.

As we approached, her donkey looked up from grazing. Now - I might've been seeing things, but I swear the donkey gave Bess a quick questioning look and she just as quickly shook her head ever-so-slightly no. I would've disregarded it completely if not for the flash of resigned annoyance on the donkey's face and the accompanying snort. Bess looked at me and saw incomprehension. "Oh, don't mind Marvin. You know how donkeys are."

Right. It seems my adage about things not being as they seem has now been extended to encompass Bess and Marvin. So long as it's not harmful to me, we're all good!

She got Marvin harnessed in and we rode on the wagon together for the few minutes it took to arrive outside the Copper Fox Tavern. And not much after that, I'd introduced Fussy and Bess, her wagon was positioned to showcase a bard was now in town, and she was already playing for the couple of patrons eating their meals.

I felt bad that so few people were here to listen, but both Fussy and Bess assured me everything was just fine. Give it time, they said. Advertising comes in many forms, they said. It'd be the crowd tonight that would dictate just how successful (or not) Bess had been at drawing and keeping a crowd.

And they were so right. The afterwork and dinner crowd was bigger than usual (so said Fussy), but it was the rowdy evening crowd that Bess really played to. The songs were boisterous, bawdy, bodacious even. And a major hit. People sang, danced, swayed (mostly from the enormous amounts of beer and spirits being consumed), and overall had a fantastic time. Fussy was run off his feet keeping up with orders, Robert Robertson was doing his best to help, and even I got enlisted. The roar of the room was enough to bury whatever mean and/or rude comments were directed towards me.

As the nighttime entertainment continued, the mayor and his wife came in and sat down. Things got a bit tense at first, almost as if the people in the room were embarrassed to be having a good time, but the mayor quickly began singing along with the songs and the room exhaled. His wife, a severe-looking woman, sat watching the proceedings, not participating much at all. Maybe it was because she was under the weather - her nose looked red and she was constantly dabbing at it with a handkerchief. And not much after coming in, she left, leaving her husband to get more and more drunk.

They didn't pay attention to me at all. Thank all the gods for that!

At some point, Bess called it a night, the crowd dispersed, Fussy started cleaning the tavern before counting the take, and Robert and I did our best to help clean up. By the time we were all done, it was super late, I was exhausted, and we all started to head to our collective beds.

I'd figured Bess had gone to her wagon to sleep since I didn't see her outside. So I started heading home. Which is when MouseEye popped onto my shoulder. "Something's wrong. Go check on Bess."

That woke me up. Alarm bells, accompanied with flashes of red-hot fire, flashed through my mind's eye. "Where is she?"

"Down near the Lunar Tower."

As I began to run, I asked, "Is anyone with her? Is she ok?"

"No. And no."

Minutes later, and following the sound of coughing, I found her sitting with her back to the solid rock of the Ritual Stone. The little labyrinth that led to the centre was still filled with debris but she'd somehow made her way through. 

"Bess?", I called.

"What's happening to me?", she cried.

At first I thought she was referring to her coughing. And then, after a minute, I realized she was definitely referring to her coughing. 

"I was feeling fine! But I needed a bit of air so I walked down here. And then I started hacking away! But I still feel fine! *cough cough*

Her voice is mellow, melodious, rich. The cough was rough, severe, and an octave or two higher than it should've been. She was coughing someone else's cough.

I asked if she wanted company going back to the wagon. 

"I can't go back into town! If people suspect I'm unwell, they'll at best assume I won't be performing for a few days. At worst they'll blame me for all the pounding headaches and body aches they're going to feel from being hungover. No - I'll stay here. But... can you help me?"

Mentally, I scanned the old witch's book and found a diagnosis: Ventriloquist Cough. I needed to act fast, if for no other reason that Bess' voice could be affected for days, and also because the silly goose insisted on staying out here. Even when I offered her to stay at my cottage, she declined.

Ok then. Time for this witch to do her thing.

I raced home and scanned the book for the cure details. Ghost Goo, already in the cupboard, would take care of half the problem. For the other, I needed to go to... the Hollow.

I stifled my automatic complaining about the place and instead grabbed my things and headed off with MouseEye on my shoulder.

"You don't suppose...", I started to say as I made my way towards the dungeon.

"Suppose what?"

It felt like I knew what was going on, on one level at least, but the dots just weren't connecting in the 'racing-to-the-area-I-hate-after-spending-the-day-being-around-more-people-than-I've-ever-been-around-in-my-life-and-exhausted-from-a-half-dozen-different-causes-not-least-of-all-was-a-magical-malady-that-had-struck-my-new-friend' level.

But luck was with me. In a couple of ways, in fact. One was that I didn't trip and kill myself. And the other was that I found a map at the Hollow's entrance. Which is to say that MouseEye spotted it and called my attention to it.

As maps go, it was pretty terrible. I knew enough about the Hollow to spot several errors and omissions. But what it did show was the location of Darkwater. It was something I'd never used before and was located in a part of the dungeon I hadn't explored yet. But! - and this was a big but - it was exactly what I needed.

In my mind, back at the level that was busy connecting dots, more and different dots were being drawn into the big picture (or pictures, I had no clue), which I was still not grasping at my current level (which pretty much consisted of stumbling forward towards the next needed step to make a potion).

I hoped the Mimic, as Igor calls it, would show up and guide me. Nope. I hoped MouseEye would talk to me to help distract me from my exhaustion. Didn't happen. And, frankly, I was too tired to ask. But the map was accurate enough and by following it, I reached a... it's not something you can call a well or spring. It was kind of like a pool full of a heavy, very sweet, very dark, syrup. I'd hesitate to add hot water and turn it into a tea; it was just that sweet!

A little while later, I was back home prepping the potion. Ghost Goo boiled and to it I added the raw Darkwater (and since Darkwater induces a medical sleeping condition, I added some Wigfish to counteract it). With it all prepped, I made my way back to Bess.

True to her word, she'd stayed at the Ritual Stone, still coughing that awful hack. I navigated the brambles so I could hand her the potion. A few gulps of potion later, and gagging from the clinging and cloying sweet, she stopped coughing. We both waited to see if the dreaded cough would come back. It didn't, leaving both of us relieved.

We were now, both of us, leaning against the cool, heavy stone, enjoying the coughless quiet and (for me, anyway), the lack of creepy dungeon darkness. The night here was refreshing - dark but delightful. 

"Thank you. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't cured me." She leaned over and laid her head on my shoulder. It felt... comfortable.

"I think it would've gone away on its own. Someone cursed you. Someone with a cough, I should say, cursed you to cough for them. So after they would've stopped coughing, you'd've stopped too. But it's good we got it stopped before your singing voice was affected."

The quiet settled on us again. Until...

"Sweet? Did that potion have to be so... sweet?"

"Well... of course!", I replied in mock outrage. We both got a chuckle from that.

"Shall we head to bed? It's really starting to get chilly." I think I said that. Maybe she did. I was so tired I think we both ended up napping where we were sitting. By mutual agreement, we headed back. I had to walk through town to exit through the correct gate, so I walked her to her wagon.

"Thank you again. I mean it. Thank you." She gave me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek before dashing inside her wagon. And I... I walked home. Both happy that I'd cured her and miserable that the night had come to an end.

Numb, I trudged home, undressed (more out of habit than anything else), and collapsed into bed.

Ordinarily, that would be that. I'd effected a cure, they'd left, and I was left alone to my own devices. Ordinarily, that was the order of things, the normal course of affairs, my preferred existence. But... today?... tomorrow?... yesterday?... what time is it? What day is it? *sigh* What use is it asking these tough questions when the blankets are very securely over my head, blocking out whatever is going on out there? I'm good right here, lying still, hearing the birds chirp. So... morning? I guess? Morning's for the birds. Let them enjoy it. I'll just lie here until... the cows come home. And that's a safe saying, given my absolute lack of anything resembling a bovine. Now that that's settled, I'll just lie here until... there's a whistling on the wind. A non-bird, and very non-bovine, whistling. A...

"Knock knock, anybody home?"

I heard her open the door and walk in. I heard her walk over to the edge of the bed. I felt her sit on the edge. And I felt her gently tap my head through the blankets, and laugh. "That was quite the night. I'm glad you've slept in. So, how about this - you make breakfast, I'll serenade you while you do, and then you can take me somewhere that's beautiful, peaceful, and above all free of people insisting that I carry the burden of their coughing."

There was warmth in her voice. Caring. Concern. Compassion. But I just... I just lay there.

"Or I could cook up something extra special for us and..."

The way to a man's heart may be through his stomach, but the way to a woman's brain is through threatening to make a horrid mess of her kitchen.

I popped my head out from under the blankets. And immediately regretted it - it was so bright!

"Ok, maybe more like lunch. I'm not picky."

I looked around as if seeing everything for the first time. Then looked up into Bess' face. Her smiling face.

"Oh yeah. I told Fussy I'd take today off but that I'll play in or around the tavern until the festival."

I became aware that: 1. I couldn't get out of bed because she was sitting on the blankets and, 2. If I did get out of bed, I'd be quite... exposed. "Wanna give me a few minutes?"

"Sure thing."

In a repeat of yesterday (was it really only yesterday?), she settled on a seat near the cottage, humming and singing, while I quickly got around and then let her know I was dressed.

I cooked, she sang, we both ate. Lovely.

As we cleaned up, she asked where I was taking us. It seemed like an opportune time to check to see if Lady Copeland had written back, and of course the beach and Loch are gorgeous, so I suggested we go there.

As to how... I'd never tried two people on my broom but thought it'd be fun to try. So we stepped outside, I held up my hand, and Vapour Trail came as called.

"That is so cool that you can do that! And I still can't believe you own a real-live flying broom!"

It took a few minutes to figure out what seating configuration was best, but finally with me in front and Bess behind me, arms around my waist, off we went. My head still wasn't fully there, so I kept the showboating to a minimum. But, of course, I had to do a little! I felt Bess' uncertainty in the movement of Vapour Trail and so kept the ride fluid and loose. There was no sense in doing something risky and crashing into a tree.

The Loch's waters gently lapped the shore, a breeze kept the leaves moving to and fro, and the sand was warm. A perfect day at the beach!

I told her about the message in a bottle I'd gotten from my newest penpal. I then recited the poem she'd written. Bess' eyes went wide as the words rolled off my lips.

"Wow. Um... hmmm...", was all Bess said.

We stayed all day. We swam, sun-bathed, talked, joked, traded stories. I think she began composing one to start memorializing her trip to High Rannoc. It was lovely.

The sun began to set. Shadows lengthened, the breeze off the water picked up, even the temperature began to drop.

Two more things happened. The first wasn't so much something that happened but more what was noticed. Vapour Trail, which has a perpetual glow (thanks to the Pop O' Lock that merged with her), became more and more bright (comparatively) and brilliant. It took my breath away. For Bess - she was left nearly speechless. "I wondered if your broom glowed but I chalked it up to tricks of the light. But, wow, was I ever wrong! How...?"

It was as she was trying to put her feelings into words that the second thing happened: from a mist that began to rise from the Loch's waters, a ship emerged. A misty, ghostly, ethereal, three-masted ship. And on the deck of the ship were crew members. Looking at us. While we looked at them. And then Bess and I looked at each other. 

"Are you doing that?" Which makes sense for her to ask because I was wondering if somehow she was!

"No. And I take it you aren't."

"Not I, said the cat."

That stopped me - which is funny because her response caught my attention more, in that moment, than the ship and crew that had just materialized. "What's that about a cat?"

"Little Red Hen. An old tale. I'll tell it to you sometime."

Ah. As I digested that, the ship's captain came to the rail. "Ahoy! What might these waters be called?"

"Meltwater Loch!", I yelled back.

A pause, then, "Might you know the way to the township known as 'Racine'? It's famous for its moss piglet exhibition."

Bess and I looked at each other and shared shrugs. "Sorry, haven't heard of it, let alone know how to get there."

Another pause. "Well, apparently neither does my Navigator! No matter! We're here and anchored. I'd be honoured if you'd grace us with your presence onboard!"

Another shared shrug. "Sure!"

"Wonderful! Wait there and I'll have a boat launched to bring you over."

I raised my hand and Vapour Trail, in all her lighted glory, shot into my hand.

"Or you can make your own way here!"

A minute later, Bess and I were on deck. And minutes after that, there were songs, dancing, and drinking all over the ship. Bess reached for an accordion and played songs. As crew members sang their songs and told their tales, she was actively listening, learning, absorbing. She collected songs and tales the way I collect reagents - every chance we get!

I did hear someone say something like "Well shiver me timbres! Listen to that voice." before an older crew member slapped him across the chest. "Mind yourself or go below." And then the first one said something like, "Well, Quartermaster, I hear you, but there's a... a mast belowdecks and..." followed by another slap. "These ladies are the Captain's guests. Would you insult the Captain and his guests, and sully his hospitality?" There was a far more meek "No, sir." and then the Quartermaster ended with "Then not another word on the matter." It all struck me as odd, but then again, so much of what tends to happen to and around me is odd, I didn't give it another thought. Instead, I danced. It was fun and joyous. And thankfully didn't require much skill; enthusiasm was all.

While I could close this out with the nuts and bolts of the remainder of the night until finally we found ourselves to our respective beds, instead I'll leave it full of sea shanties, jigs, and the pure expressions of being alive.

That, and the repeated insistence of the Navigator that it hadn't been a mistake to not make a course correction to port off the coast of Albuquerque. 

Also Spring, Week 8 - Vapour Trail

To hear the story narration and learn how I put the episode together, check out this video:

 *****

There's a story I heard once, some time ago. It goes like this:

One day, two monks were walking along and came across an old woman who was trying to cross a river. Because the river was wide and flowed quickly, she feared for her safety. The junior of the two monks passed by her and crossed. The elder of the two offered to help. She climbed onto his back and he carried her safely across. Many hours later, the elder noticed the junior had something to say and so asked him what was on his mind. The junior monk confronted the elder, saying, "We are forbidden to consort with women, let alone have any sort of physical contact with them. And yet you allowed that old woman to climb onto your back!". The elder monk replied, "I left her at the river bank, but you have been carrying her with you for hours."

One idea (of the many interpretations possible) is that you act and that once you have, to let it go. It's supposed to remind you to stay in the present moment.

Try as I might, the episode with the mayor is still on my back! It's done, dealt with, over, finished. And, you'd think after everything I'd experienced in Blastfire Bog (which, let's be honest, was incredibly cool! Super strange? Yes. Exhausting? Also yes. But so worth it!), I'd have exorcised the whole thing. But... I hadn't. It was still niggling at me, still occupying my mind, still slung on my back like an involuntary backpack.

I needed to do something that would give me something else to focus on. Business had been good, I had plenty of silver, and so a bit of retail therapy might be the thing. If I couldn't exercise the thoughts away, maybe I could spend them away. Which is why I was on my way to Bits & Bobs. If nothing else, spending some time with Bob would be a lovely thing.

Once in town, I noticed a couple of things. One was that there were more people out and about than I'd seen before. I didn't recognize anyone, not that that was any surprise given how little time I'd spent in the town and how few, relatively, people I'd treated. What was a surprise was how quiet people got when they spotted me. I tried telling myself it was because they were seeing a witch and that it carried some weight. But I didn't believe me.

At Bits & Bobs, Madam Wintergleam was finishing up a transaction, chatting away with Bob. That is up until I entered. Actually - not quite true - it wasn't until she noticed who had entered that her pleasantries quickly petered out. She avoided looking at me, bid Bob a fine day, and left. She didn't even acknowledge my greeting. I decided it was because she hadn't gotten over my quitting her class. I was already carrying the mayor - there was no way I was going to carry more!

I greeted Bob and he returned it, but... it was awkward. There was definitely something going on, Bob definitely knew what, and I was definitely not leaving until I'd found out what it was.

"Bob, originally I came here to do a bit of shopping. But now that I think on it, I'm here for two things: a bit of shopping, and to find out why everyone is acting so weird."

He smiled at me, nearly sincerely, before asking if there was anything in particular I had my eye on.

"Yes. The truth. What's going on?"

He deflated a bit, grimaced, then said, "There's a rumour going around saying that you and the mayor are... um..."

I didn't like where that was going, but I wasn't going to have the rest of the sentence left unsaid. "We're what, Bob?"

He refused to look me in the eye. "An... um... affair. People think you are having an affair with the mayor."

"An affair? Why in the world would anyone think that?"

With the terrible secret rumour no longer secret, he started talking a bit more freely. "The other night. The mayor had had a lot to drink. Before he left The Copper Fox, he announced he was going to your cottage to, as he put it, 'show that upstart of a girl who's in charge of High Rannoc'. And people watched as he staggered towards your place. It was his not returning until late the next morning that the whispers started."

Fury started to burn inside me, but it quickly died out with the memory of that fat, hungover, half-naked man falling awkwardly out of my tree. "Ummm... ok...", I said at first, then tried to say the rest without my laughter interrupting. "Bob, did you and I have an affair when you came to me for help?"

He still looked miserable, still wouldn't meet my gaze. "They're saying you're a home wrecker. He has kids."

"Bob", I repeated, "Did you and I have any sort of inappropriate anything when you came for treatment for your cludgie mouth?"

He mumbled, "no".

"No." Then, after a deep breath, I continued, "I don't know what the mayor was thinking when he was drunk or why he said what he said. I won't talk about anything concerning my patients - any of them", and I looked sharply at Bob, "but please know that nothing inappropriate or unprofessional occurred between he and I."

Bob just nodded, dumbly. 

"I don't know if anyone will believe me and frankly I don't care", which was an obvious lie, but what the heck, "but of all the people in this wretched town who I want to know the truth, it's you."

He gave a little laugh, if a bit forced. "I'm sure this'll just blow over in time. It's just a rumour..."

Yeah, right. There was no way this rumour was going to blow over quickly. Mentally I watched as my reputation, my business, my livelihood, was going to be destroyed by an arrogant drunk. The laughter in my soul tamped down as that scenario played out in my head.

I needed to get out. Quickly. It was too much. Just all too much. But I couldn't get myself to step out the door, let alone walk another gauntlet of unspoken judgemental shame. So I grinned (against everything I was feeling), forced myself to stand up straight, and asked if he had any brooms for sale.

Talking merchandise seemed to put more normalcy back into the room. "Oh sure. All sorts really. Different handle lengths, bristle types, wood choices, colours..."

I interrupted. "Flying ones. Do you have any of those?"

"Ah. Of course. Flying ones. Of course..."

I closed my eyes. "Bob? What is it now?"

He cleared his throat. "Well, uh... I do have one. She's not much, but I..."

"Great. I'll take it."

"Would you like to see it first?"

"Nope. How much is it?"

"It's... uh... would you like a helmet?"

"Nope. How much?"

"Ah... do you need instructions on flying her?"

"No."

"Ah... right. Ok. I'll just package it up for you and..."

"No need. You go get it. I'll leave silver on the counter and meet you out back."

"Ok. Great. I'll..."

"How much silver should be waiting on the counter for you?"

"I... ah... would 100 be asking too much?"

"100 it is. I'll count it out while you get it."

Bob stepped out and I just stood there, shaking. Of all the patients I'd seen, and a few of them had stayed overnight at the cottage while I'd collected reagents, why had this particular patient triggered such a rumour. No doubt his announcement to The Copper Fox patrons has been important - but has that been all? Was it being helped along by someone? And if so, why?

I shook my head to clear it, tried once again to take off the mayoral backpack that had now seemingly fused itself to me, counted the silver onto the counter, and went out the back to see my new purchase. Given Bob's hesitancy, I didn't expect to see much. I wasn't disappointed.

Brooms can come in a variety of shapes and types. Most, of course, don't fly. But of the ones that do, you can't simply look at it to know if it flies. There's a... magical feeling, I guess is what I'm trying to say. And not everyone resonates with every broom. I'll note that I knew none of this before I talked with Bob. MouseEye told me all this after I got home. So while I could've just paid a huge amount of money to sweep my floors, it turns out I lucked out again.

If the land is responsible for my run of luck, it has to be working overtime!

When I first laid eyes on the broom, I instantly saw what Bob saw - an ill-kept, bristle-bare, knotted and mottled handled relic of a prior age. 

"Here it is, Mistress." Bob pointed to it almost apologetically. "I bought it as part of an estate sale, of sorts. I was given an inventory list and, ah... this was listed as a flying broom. I paid top silver for it. Sight unseen, you see. I've just been storing it, not sure what to do with it, and um... I hope you're happy with your purchase. Of course, if it isn't to your satisfaction, I'll give you a full refund."

I heard Bob and I guess on one level I listened, but on another I was connecting to this unsightly thing. But there was more here than met the eye. 

"Of course, it's an older model so doesn't have the lumbar support or the new cushioned memory-bristles that are being produced now. Of course those can go for a lot more than 100 silver, so I hope you feel, after setting eyes on her, it's fair."

Deep within it's twisted handle, arcing from its half-circle burst of bristles (I couldn't identify what they were made of), there was something. Subtle, for sure. But undeniable. She was perfect.

He had it propped up, bristles up, next to the door. "Here, let me get it for you." As Bob reached for it, it shot past his closing hand and landed neatly in mine.

Bob looked over his shoulder at me and the broom that had just come to life. "Oh! I didn't know you're an experienced broom wrangler!"

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. I was deep in the experience of the broom and all that she was. After a few seconds, I released her and had her hold steady for mounting. Now - there's a misconception that all flying brooms are flown by sitting on the handle. Not true! Not only would it be terribly uncomfortable, it'd be absolutely unstable! It'd be so easy to slide off to one side as the broom did a barrel roll the other way! Which is why most brooms have you sit cross-legged on the bristles. I climbed on, kicked off the ground, and launched. My eyes were pointed at the sky - I didn't want to look back and down at High Rumour-ville. 

That load I'd been carrying? Gone. The confusion and hurt from hearing the ridiculous rumour? Disappeared. My anger at it all? Evaporated. Eviscerated. Eliminated. And I was simply elated. It felt so good to be flying again. 

Just for kicks, I flew through a cloud. That feeling of the air whooshing past - what a rush! And the trail I left in the sky, dragging a bit of cloud along! In that moment, I named her: Vapour Trail. 

I was like a kid in a candy shop. No - I was like a dog (one of those breeds that loves water) playing on a riverbank. No - I was like myself lingering in a warm bed on a cool morning. I just loved every minute and I really, really didn't want to stop. So I didn't! I swooped and swerved and dove and climbed - if I could think of it, Vapour Trail could do it.

There was one moment where I did start thinking about a barrel roll and Vapour Trail started rolling! But it was that errant thought that led to an amazing discovery - my butt was held to the bristles like iron to a magnet. I inverted all the way through the roll and, while discombobulating, wasn't fatal. Good to know!

After flying for a few hours, I decided to take the opportunity to land and stretch my legs. Sitting cross-legged is only comfortable for so long! I found an island within the Cloud Isles with a pond and some trees for shade. It was good to lay back on my own private island! And to take a dip (or three!) in my private swimming pool. Aaahhhhh... the world with all its cares and concerns and troubles was down there This place, this peaceful, solitary place, was just lovely. I think if I ever retire from witching, I'll set myself up here.

As good as it all felt - the warm sun, the cool water, the comforting shade - I also wanted to feel the wind and race across the sky and do loop do loops and be silly.

The day was getting on and I was getting tired, but I also wanted to check out one last place. I'd spotted an island that sported a large cave - the mouth of which was so big I could fly into it. I couldn't resist!

I flew more cautiously as I entered the cave. It was a little tight, but totally workable. With the discovery, I found myself wondering if I'd ever walk anywhere ever again!

Looking at the textures within the cave walls was like looking at clouds and seeing different shapes and things. Here a wing, there a serpentine body, over there a giant closed eye. It was fun letting my imagination run free!

And then my imagination started working overtime, seeing myself as I flew hither and yon with kids coming out from houses and buildings, pointing up at me as I came to visit. It felt so good, so affirming as the local witch.

A sound, I suppose what I imagined the kids would sound like, escaped through my lips. And it echoed. What fun! Echoes! And so I let loose with a little bit of nonsensical song and played with the sound bouncing back. The roar that followed wasn't expected. Nor the two eyes that opened deeper in the cave. It was then that I realized the winged snake shape I'd disregarded was: one - not part of the cave but instead lived in it, and two - it was a wyvern.

There was a part of me, for a quick second, that tried discerning whether the creature in front of me was a wyvern or a dragon. That small part stopped its zoological classification and instead decided to table the discussion for later.

The wyvern made to launch at me and I found myself drifting backwards. I didn't know the broom came with reverse but I'm glad it did!

I got clear of the cave mouth then shot off, hoping the wyvern would either lose interest (with me now being gone) or would lose sight of me and break off its pursuit. Neither happened.

All the practice I'd gotten in was paying dividends. I wasn't losing it, but I wasn't being snatched out of the sky and turned into wyvern food. Every move I tried it responded to. Each attempt to out race, out spin, or out roll it didn't work. It nearly got me time and again. I didn't dare stop, didn't dare land and hide, didn't dare do anything. I couldn't lose it in the cloud or two that was up here. I needed a plan.

And then I spotted my chance. Laughing out loud with fear and hope, I knew it was a desperate move, but I had nothing left. I flew into a canyon of sorts being formed as two big islands drifted close to each other. It narrowed so much that it could fit me but couldn't accommodate the wyvern's wingspan - it had to maneuver itself to keep from being crushed. After shooting through the gap, I dashed for a nearby forested hiding spot and hunkered down.

They wyvern wasn't ready to give up, instead flying all around the canyon I'd exited, plus the islands surrounding it (including my current hiding spot). It wasn't until well after sundown that it finally relented and left.

After all the excitement, you'd think I'd've made my way home. And you'd be right. To a point. You see, as I started my way back (or what I assumed was the way back), I spotted blue-green light coming from a height and I just had to check it out.

There are two things I learned: one - there is a lighthouse on top of Moonbreaker Mountain, and two - it emits the most beautiful... it's not quite light, but also not quite water. When I told MouseEye about it later, he said it's called plasma. I called it fun! I could fly through it and have trails of it swirl in my wake. I must've done that for... well... I lost track of time. Maybe it wasn't that long but it felt like I spent all night playing.

It was still night, however, when I got my bearings and finally headed home. I landed, stretched, yawned. Spent though I was, my spirit was still riding a high. I dragged my aching body into the cottage, broom in tow. 

The welcome glow of Pop helped settle me. I was back in my home, my space, my safe space. I breathed a sigh of relief. MouseEye looked up from his place inside the spirit house. "I see you bought a broom. And I'm guessing you went up to the Cloud Isles. What'd you do up there?"

A mischievous grin crossed my face. "You want me to tell you about my adventures today?"

MouseEye closed his eyes, knowing full well what was coming, but still played along. "Yes. Tell me about your adventures today. What did you do? Tell me everything."

Without giving the necessary pause to give the answer the punch it deserves, I jumped in with, "Must I?"

Smiling at each other, sharing in the joke, we laughed. And then we watched, each from our own vantage point, as Pop began to change in hue, in intensity, in colour. She began to expand at the middle and dip at the poles, and then, suddenly, she divided into two Pops. Each the same size as the other, floating side by side, indistinguishable. Then one of them floated over to the broom and attached itself to the end of the handle, making a running light of sorts.

MouseEye's and my gaze met again and with a mutual shrug of incomprehension, we wondered what else this night would bring. 

Also Spring, Week 2 - A Madcap Meeting

Here's a link to the video about how I wrote this episode (and narrate it too!):

 Home. That is what I call the cottage and grounds. It'd been only a week and a bit but everything felt like it was mine: both my property but also my responsibility to care for, maintain, and even improve. No feelings of being a guest anymore, and certainly not of being a trespasser or interloper. 

Maybe I'd proved something to the house. Or maybe it was my intention to stay and care for, not just the property, but for the people and creatures who might come to me for help.

I had stepped fully into being The Witch.

There's a change in perspective when you go from being a guest to being an owner. Things that you accepted as being "just the way it is" turns into things you can change.

But I also wanted to start small. Allowing my thoughts to imagine changes throughout the grounds was just too much to consider all at once. The cottage needed a deep clean, the garden beds needed clearing of brambles, places where there had been additions and out-buildings needed rejuvenation - there was a lot that an owner should want to fix and improve.

Getting back to small starts, I decided that the first thing that needed doing was planting something in the one cleared garden plot. Everything else could wait.

But what to plant. In the old witch's notes, it said I could plant anything in it and it'd be a happy and healthy plant. Which is why I laid out my existing ingredients to see what would best go in the ground.

I had quite the assortment. From Glimmerwood Grove: Wild Rose, Coffee Cap, Songberries. From Meltwater Loch: Deep Reed, Gas Reed. (And this of course ignores the animal and magic reagents). Each of them had good reasons to be in the ground, but I finally decided on Wild Rose (although I almost planted Songberries. And then I realized I might be inviting fairies, drunk and otherwise, to sing near the cottage at all hours). Wild Rose is pretty, smells nice, and is a potent reagent that helps bone and skin ailments.

It was so easy to plant, but the thing that caught my attention was how it so quickly sprang to life. This place is bound to be full of surprises.

Along with the surprises that I'd already seen, there's another one that I feel - it's not something that I can explain well, but I feel like I'm a part of something bigger. Something more than this small house, more than the surrounding grounds. It's as if I've become a part of the land. In a way, I'm an owner, but in another way, I'm a working part of it all.

Like I said, it's hard to describe. But something I did, in honour of that feeling, was to set up a small... it's not a house and certainly not an alter or anything religious, but it's a space on the mantlepiece that somehow symbolizes that belonging feeling. Right now there's a small bowl of water but I intend to add to it as the feeling prompts me.

And it's here that I stand and reach out with my feelings to let the land know I'm heading out and ask that I travel safely. Which is when MouseEye peered out from behind the bowl, yawning. "Where're we headed?" How he ended up behind the bowl in the first place is another mystery but one that will stay mysterious. I don't feel like trying to quiz my never-forthcoming familiar. Instead, I opted to keep my day moving forward.

"We're going to town. I feel like getting something. I just don't know what yet." Besides that, I knew I also wanted to do a bit of reagent gathering. There is nothing so motivating as preparing healing potions and helping people - including all the work needed to make it happen.

MouseEye and I didn't talk much as we walked. My imagination was fully invested in the possibilities. I did remember all the bits that Bob dragged out for me. But over the course of those couple of hours during my last visit, I knew there were a couple of possibilities that I can now afford. 

Bob was as helpful and friendly as he was last time. After a brief discussion, I bought my first home improvement - a hive! I bought a house for bees. Now... it did seem a bit lacking in that the bees didn't actually come with the hive. He doesn't sell swarms. Or queens, for that matter. But at least a house is a start. And maybe I was being a bit silly with my money - which mostly became Bob's money, what with paying for the hive - but I felt proud of making my first, and I know for a certainty, not my last purchase.

After my purchase, I stood outside the shop, feeling a mix of pride (holding onto my new purchase) and foolishness (for holding an empty bee house). I decided to visit a couple of places I hadn't visited yet: the Lunar Tower and the Ritual Circle. They're located near each other a few minutes walk outside the town proper. Off I went with the paper and wire hive banging against my leg.

The walk is a pleasant one. The town itself sits on top of a small hill - the path to the Tower and Circle descends gently through some woods to a clearing. Small wildflowers bloom along the path borders. 

The clearing itself is a relatively small - there isn't much more than the Circle and the Tower. And I should note that neither appeared all that impressive! The Circle was little more than a small labyrinth with a table, made of rock, at the centre. Before anyone could use this for anything, it'd need a good clearing of weeds and windblown debris. And the Lunar Tower looked - how can I say this - like a tall outhouse. "Lunar", I think, refers to the crescent moon carved in the door. But instead of being a place to relieve yourself, there's just a creaky staircase up to a second level where there's another rocky table.

I figured since I was here and I already knew I was going to forage for reagents, that I'd use the Tower's power to attune my foraging equipment (the small bit I have). Maybe it would help me in my harvesting. I felt something happen, but I'm not sure what exactly.

Through all this, I'd left the hive at the path's entrance. I figured where was no sense in lugging it around and banging it against myself, perhaps even damaging it.

I wandered back to the path's mouth, thinking about the sorry state of everything I'd seen and experienced. Yes - I was very recently from the woods and a small woodcutter's cabin. At least it was in good repair! As is my new cottage. But the town of High Rannoc - far from it resembling its lofty name, was a small, ill-kept, rotting-timber wrapped mess.

How I'd become so judgemental, I don't know, but that was how I felt! How else to think of a town that treated a place of power like a place where one leaves their business? Incredible.

And as is my want, I was grumbling about the town and making vows to remake things in a better way and making a list of priorities. And that's when I got back to the hive. And MouseEye. Who appeared to be deep in conversation with someone.

It turns out I was mistaken - it was someones. About a half-dozen bees were walking on, crawling through, and flying around the hive. MouseEye asked me to sit beside him so that we could all be at the same level during our negotiations. 

"What negotiations?", I asked.

"Rental occupancy.", replied MouseEye.

I felt lost. MouseEye, uncharacteristically, explained. "These ladies are looking for a new hive for a new queen and her small brood. And they like the hive floor plan. I was just explaining that the hive will be located at our cottage. They know the area and approve. They'll even transport the hive to an appropriate location there. The only question is how much rent we're asking for."

Rent? I hadn't thought any of this through. I'd figured bees would simply move in and that would be that. Rent?

"Ummm..." I was at a loss. So I decided to let MouseEye continue dealing with the bees. Which was just as well - it was all buzzes, squeaks, and sounds that I can't describe at all. None of the sounds were anything I could understand. Eventually, MouseEye said, "With your ok, they'll remit honey four times per season. Does that sound ok to you?"

I found myself doing some quick math. If I could get four silver for a sweet potion (like what Madame Hightower had paid), I'd make back my fifty silver in less than a year! (4 silver/sweet X 4 sweet/season X 4 seasons/year = 64 silver/year!) I eagerly nodded.

"Good! Then we're all agreed." MouseEye squeaked a last squeak or two, the bees buzzed in response, and the deal was done.

I just looked at MouseEye in amazement. I was flabbergasted. I was... I was deeply appreciative that the hive was going to be used by agreeable bees!

"MouseEye? You speak bee?"

"Mmmm... no..."

"The bees speak mouse?"

"Mmmm... no..."

"Then how...?"

"We just.. ummm... understood each other. It's hard to explain. But it all worked out." And then he changed the subject. "So... where are we off to now?"

With no hive to lug around, the number of places we could go to just opened up. I'd feared my purchase was going to force a return to the cottage. But now? It was time to visit someplace new - Moonbreaker Mountain.

I quietly hoped the "moon" part of the Mountain didn't refer to another outhouse-type set up.

While I could have asked MouseEye to check ahead and see if everything was safe, I decided instead to have us travel together and experience what might come jointly.

I must admit that part of my thinking was centred on how useful MouseEye had been with the bees. With his typical non-answer, I still didn't know or even suspect an answer as to how they not only conversed, but negotiated! It was something special, something mysterious, and something I desperately wanted to know how to do!

We travelled in silence, comfortably. I was lost in my thoughts (per usual) - wondering not only about the bees but also that sense of belonging at the cottage. It was also a comfortable feeling. A warm, safe feeling. Acceptance. I think that was it in a nutshell. It felt good.

Also as usual, I didn't spot the unusual, colourful thing rising above the trees. But then again, I'd been trying to focus my attention on where I was walking. Looking up - that had been less important.

I'd never seen anything like it. It was a balloon - huge stripes of colourful fabric, stitched together, bobbing and swaying, but not rising. While it was MouseEye who called attention to it, it was me that suggested we go check it out.

We climbed a knoll and came face-to-face with the whole scene: the balloon trying to rise, lines lashed to three trees keeping it held in place, a wicker basket lashed under the balloon... and a strange man wearing a leather hat snuggly over his head (complete with goggles!) muttering/saying/yelling to himself, over and over again (in different volumes), "Yes, but that won't work".

As he made to go to another of the trees around which rope was tied, he looked over and spotted me. Quite unexpectedly, and to my utter surprise, he began to hoop and galavant around, shouting things like "Yes!" and "Saved!" and other such. His enthusiasm, far from reassuring me, had me wondering just what was going on.

He began to gesticulate to me, wanting me to approach. As I did so (albeit cautiously), he began speaking to me. "Please do pardon me! I'm afraid I haven't been properly social! Madcap, they call me. Mapcap Matt, but Madcap will do! I'm so glad you've come! I'm in need of some help and I bet you're in want of some adventure."

Given that I could think of better things to do than gather reagents simply to store them (rather than getting them while I was actually planning a potion), I was already half-convinced to say yes to whatever it was he was going to suggest.

"I see it in your face that you have questions! The help I require is to have the ropes untied from the trees while I'm ready to float away in the basket. I'd had help here, but they left! Apparently, the patience needed to fill the balloon with hot air wasn't present. So they left and left me with no way to safely set this glorious balloon free and make sure I went with it. And the adventure is for you to join me! And I'll do one better - I'll take you to wherever you'd like to go. What do you think?"

I was happy to help release the balloon and I was so tempted to float up into the air. I thought about lying on the Meltwater Loch beach, watching the clouds go by. So I asked to float up to the clouds.

"Young miss, your wish is Madcap's command. And I'll do you one better - I'll take you on a tour of The Cloud Isles!"

The Cloud Isles? I'd seen a mention or two in the old witch's notes but hadn't really paid much attention to those entries - flying was a requirement and since I hadn't been graced with that ability (or even a pair of useless but lovely wings). Madcap got himself an eager helper.

That was until it was time to actually help. He tied a rope around me - over the shoulders and through my legs. Not comfortable! But very temporary. 

I undid the three lines from the trees and then ran towards the now rising balloon. Madcap hauled me up easily. After disentangling from my makeshift harness, we watched the ground recede from us as we rose further and further into the sky.

What a joy birds experience. It was beyond description. I swear I'll never forget the sensations, the sights. And, to Madcap's credit, he held off on being a tour guide until after the initial amazement had worn off. Slightly!

"It's beautiful up here, isn't it? And so peaceful. I can steer the airship, in a way, but the most important part is reading the wind currents. And of course knowing the lay of things.

"Speaking of, I don't believe we've properly met yet. As I said, you can call me Madcap. they call me that because that's how people feel about my love of flying. So what may I call you?"

"Mistress Sweetwater."

He closed his eyes for a minute, as if he were searching inside his head for something. "I don't recall hearing that name. Whereabouts do you live?"

"Outside High Rannoc. I'm the new witch."

"Aha! Are you now? How exciting! I live in the other direction but I come to Moonbreaker because it's the best place to launch from. I'll travel back and forth while the weather's good - and Spring is known for her fresh winds and, quite frankly, perfect flying conditions."

We continued to chat and look and be awestruck. "I never get tired of the view", he said, somewhat distantly. I think he was just lost in the view.

After a while, he pointed out bits of land floating in the air. It was so odd seeing what appeared to be islands but coming up at them. "Here we are! The Cloud Isles!"

As impressive as the land below, receding, had been, it didn't hold a candle to land seemingly floating on clouds. I had no words. In fact, I still don't.

Small islands, big islands, rocky islands, forested islands, flat islands, hilly islands, an island with "Help" written out in rocks, islands with... wait... help?

"Madcap? Do you see that?"

He looked where I was pointing. And then he looked at me. "Ah. That. You can't be too careful up here. That could be a trick. Pirates will do sneaky things like that to rope in the unwary. Thankfully, I'm wary! So let's head off that-a-way." He pointed directly opposite to where the rocky appeal for aid was.

"But what if that's someone genuinely in need?"

"Then someone will come along to help."

I paused, then, "What if that someone is me?"

He paused. Then, "Well..."

I pressed. "You did say my wish is your command."

I was afraid I'd pushed too hard. But he just smiled in acquiescence. "You are entirely right. Your wish is indeed my command. I'll get us over there. But let's approach cautiously."

I looked quickly for MouseEye to see if he could make sure things were safe. But he was nowhere to be found.

As we got closer to the island, Madcap yelled out, "Ahoy, the island! Ahoy, the cry for help!"

A minute later, a figure staggered out from the woods bordering the rocky plea.

"Well, I'll be a nightingale's wart. That's old Sebastian Kittington. How in the blazes did he end up here?" To me, he said, "Hang on, we're going in for a landing."

A minute later, we set down gently on top of the Help sign. And seconds after that, Sebastian ran up to the basket. "Saints preserve you, Madcap! Thank goodness you're here! I wasn't sure how much longer I could've held out!"

Madcap made no move to get out of the basket nor to invite the stranded man in. "Sebastian, you old charlatan, what're you doing up here? Aside from hiding, of course."

I could see the story quickly being rehearsed, and then we got to hear the performance. "Well, as to how I got here... I did a bit of business with a travelling merchant. Next thing I know, I found myself here!"

Madcap just crossed his arms in disbelief. "A bit of business? What'd you try to steal?"

Sebastian's eyes widened. "Nothing! I swear!"

Madcap said nothing. He just stared. I felt the need to speak up, having brought this about. "I'm sorry but can someone tell me what's going on?"

Madcap spoke first. "This man is a con, a thief, a gambler, a drunk, and overall a ne'er-do-well. He owes a lot of people a lot of money. And he's been missing for weeks."

I just stood there, thinking. Then, "Well - does he owe you money?"

Madcap nodded. "Five silver."

Sebastian started "Look, Madcap - I told you that I'd cover the bill that day but I didn't currently have my money with me. I'm good for it! Just get me down to some proper ground and I swear I'll pay you what you're owed."

I stared at the two of them. "There's hard feelings over five silver? Really?"

Sebastian grabbed hold of that. "You hear her, Madcap? She's talking sense! Five silver! A pittance, really! C'mon - let me off this rock and I'll pay you what's due."

Madcap held up his hand. "So how did you end up here, again? Who was that merchant?"

Sebastian sighed loudly. "Ok! So how was I supposed to know he was a wizard? With the ability to relocate someone to a place such as this?"

Madcap started to laugh. "Now that's closer to the truth. Fine. Climb aboard."

Sebastian made as if to run, but then Madcap help up his hand. "But first, you will show my passenger, the new witch of High Rannoc, a brief tour of what must now be a fully explored island. And since I also know you know a bit about things of value, including such things as grow in the ground, you'll help her gather a few things." And then he turned to me. "Assuming that's to your liking, Mistress Sweetwater."

I was thrilled! Walking around on a floating island, being directed here and there - courteously but quickly - by my guide, was awesome.

We gathered Moon Lotus flower pods. They'd closed up as protection against the sun's rays but the pollen inside was valuable.

Inside Sebastian's camp, I grabbed some Nimbus Fish scales - they, along with the leftover bones, were all that was left of one of the few things Sebastian had available to eat. I think I heard him say that he'll never eat another fish ever again. Willingly, anyway.

But the real find was realizing that Sebastian had used Star Shards within his Help sign. Not only were they powerful reagents, but by placing one on my mantlepiece, it'd be another subtle sign to anyone coming to the cottage that I was a witch.

Once everything had been gathered and Sebastian had the few things of value he'd collected with him, we went to the balloon. And before Sebastian boarded, he reached into his pocket and pulled out five silver. "I managed to find a coin here and there up here. Here's what I owe you. I'm grateful to be leaving this place."

Madcap held the money for a moment, then turned to me. "I'd've left him had I been here solo. And I nearly did despite you being here. This, I believe, should rightfully be yours." Shocked, I tried to decline, but he insisted. "Thank you, Madcap." was all I could think to say.

We clambered in, then Sebastian laughed, slapped his hands together, then said, "I'm so glad we're all happy! Now, can we make our way away from here?"

As we floated down back towards Moonbreaker Mountain, things were awkwardly silent. I think Sebastian, in particular, was formulating next steps. And not necessarily ones that would lead to better judgement or behaviours.

"You're a witch, eh? On the lookout for an apprentice?" It felt like he was hunting for a safe haven - who would seek to collect a debt against a witch or her retinue?

"Not at this time. Thank you, however, for your interest in working for me."

"Ah. Figured as much. But I had to ask."

Madcap softly glowered. Sebastian noticed. "Hey! No! I'm not looking to welch! I'm good for all of it!"

I had to ask. "How much do you owe?" I figured if his debt to Madcap was only five silver, how much could the total debt be?

Sebastian started to hum and haw, followed by Madcap chiming in. "It has to be a few thousand. And most of that is to far more powerful people than I'd ever want to mess with."

That was... wow. Several thousand? It was possible to get into debt that deep? Wow.

Sebastian just shrugged. "I had a bit of bad luck and a couple of business deals that didn't pan out."

"What will you do?" I just had to know.

He shrugged again. "I'm thinking I could try to make good by giving my original plan another go..."

Madcap jumped in. "Or, instead of trying to rob well-guarded houses, you could become a farmer. Show people you're willing to make coin with good, honest work. You'll eventually be forgiven."

Sebastian looked like it had just been suggested that he collect night soil. "A farmer? No. Gods, no. Maybe I'll acquire some stock and open a shop."

That sounded promising to me. "You know your reagents. Maybe you can gather them!" We all discussed it, with various levels of enthusiasm, until Madcap got us safely on the ground.

I prepared to head back home but Madcap stopped me first. "Many thanks, Mistress. I'll happily fly with you again, any day, any time. Head off now - I'll make sure to direct Sebastian towards his home and away from you. He's not a violent man, but my heart will feel better with distance between your good self and that fraud."

I thanked him back and headed off. A few minutes later I felt MouseEye on my shoulder. "I'm looking backward. No sign of anyone following us."

That's... How did he know to watch for anyone? Hasn't he been nowhere to be found for the entire balloon trip? I asked. "Sorry. I'm kinda shy. It's fine being with you. But I don't like people looking at me. Besides, it helps me watch better."

"So you were with me the entire time?"

"Yeah... pretty much..."

So not all the time, eh? "Where else did you go?"

He shrugged. "Oh... nowhere in particular..."

I sighed. A straight answer was too much to work for and too hard to drag out of him. It'd been a great day and I didn't want to spoil it. I let that secret remain so.

On our way home, I thought about the balloon and the amazing flight. What adventures Madcap must experience! I certainly hope to have another one sometime soon.

I began to hum a tuneless tune, a little bit of random melody that seemed to fit the surroundings - light, airy, happy. I even skipped in time.

The trail went down into a narrow valley - I could reach out and touch both sides. The walls of what quickly became a small canyon rose above me. Up ahead was a block of rock in the middle of the path. And as I approached, a human-headed, lion-bodied creature jumped onto the rock and watched me approach.

All I could think was "What now?"

A few paces shy of the makeshift pedestal, the creature spoke. "Hold, traveler! I am a sphinx! According to ancient law, you must answer a riddle. Successfully answer and you may pass. Fail and pay the penalty!"

I wasn't amused. "Look, I'm tired. I'm just looking to go home and settle in."

"No matter! You have approached and so now you must answer. And failure to answer at all is to answer incorrectly and subjects you to the penalty."

I sighed. "Fine. What's the penalty?"

That brought it up short. "The penalty?"

"Yes. The penalty. What will happen if I just simply keep walking past?"

"Oh. Uh..." The now uncertain-looking sphinx looked over its shoulder. From behind some trees, a loud whisper. "You eat her."

The sphinx responded. "I told you. I'm vegetarian! I can't eat her!"

A pause, then I jumped in. "How about if I don't answer correctly, I have to teach you a riddle?"

While there were loud objections coming from the trees behind the sphinx, it proclaimed, "I like that! I could learn a new riddle. Accepted!"

Well, that was a penalty I could live with. "Ok. What's your riddle?"

The sphinx sat even more erect. "You drive a cabbage cart. Now note! You drive the cart along the first row of a field and collect 32 cabbages. On the second row, you collect another 17 cabbages. And on the third and last row, you collect another 26 cabbages.

"Your riddle is - What's the name of the cabbage cart driver?"

I was about to say how many cabbages had been collected when I realized what the question really was. And potentially what it really really was. "May I ask questions about this riddle?"

The sphinx hesitated, then magnanimously allowed me to ask.

"If the name I say is how the driver is known, but isn't the true name, will the answer be accepted?"

He shook his head. "No. It must be the true name."

Ah. But anyone knowing my true name could have power over me. So... how to answer? I gave it some thought. I looked at MouseEye, or where he'd been. He no longer was. I was on my own on this one. Ok. How about... "The cabbage cart's driver's name is the true name of the witch known as Mistress Sweetwater."

The sphinx just sat there, blinking. Then - "It rings of truth. Very well, the witch known as Mistress Sweetwater, you have passed the test. Travel safely." And he stepped down and headed towards where the other voices had been coming from. As I passed, two much larger sphinxes were huddled around the one who'd posed my riddle. One looked at me. "He's learning the ropes and needed some moral and emotional support. It'll be better next time."

Oh goodie. I just smiled, headed for home, and hoped this was the last of the day's adventures. I was so ready to kick off my shoes, enjoy a tea, and relax.

A few minutes later, MouseEye reappeared. I snapped. "Thanks for helping me out there! I could've been sphinx food!"

"No, you had it handled from the beginning. But great move to suggest a penalty of your own choosing."

I don't know if I believed him at all but it did feel good to... not outwit the sphinx, but to turn the situation into something that favoured me better.

Not much later, I finally arrived home. As I stepped onto the grounds, I felt...

Not peace. Not serenity. Something was wrong. Of course.

As I approached the cottage, I saw, sitting on the ground, a very unhappy young teen boy. The look he shot me was so similar to the one Sebastian had given. For some reason, this boy needed rescuing. 

He called out. "Don't come any closer! The bees have gone mad! They'll attack!"

"Are you being stung now?"

"No! They seem to leave me alone so long as I don't move from where I am right now!"

The bees, eh? Let me guess... "Did you chase a flying hive?"

He looked absolutely gobsmacked. "How did you know? How could you have known?"

And then I saw my Wild Rose. Trampled. "You chased it, weren't looking where you were going, trampled my flower bed, and then tried to run off without fixing the damage."

I swear his jaw dropped so low that he could've easily scooped dirt with his lower lip.

"The real question here is 'Are you remorseful?'" 

He just nodded.

"Then what you'll do is walk over to that poor rose and fix it as best you can."

That's when his eyes went wide with terror. "I don't know anything about fixing dead flowers, miss! I'm sorry miss! I just want to go home."

"Well then, you'll learn. Come on." And with that I walked past where he was sitting (to show I wouldn't be stung) and headed for my poor wild rose. It looked bad. I wasn't sure if it could be salvaged but I was determined to make that young man try.

A few seconds later, and watching every direction all at once, he joined me.

"Still not stung, right? Bees die if they sting you. And they certainly don't want to die on account of a clumsy and thoughtless boy. So here - kneel down."

I looked over at him - afraid, panicked, overwhelmed. "Close your eyes. Breathe, You're safe here. You didn't mean ill will. Just breathe."

To his credit, he did. As he calmed down and before we moved on to saving unsaveable plants, I thought it best to the niceties out of the way. "What's your name?"

"Mick."

"And where do you live, Mick?"

Turns out he, along with the rest of his quite large family, work as tanners. While adults would describe it as a far off, kids cover ground the way an airship flies - quickly!

"Ok, Mick. I want you to re-dig a hole, put in the roots, and while you do that, apologize for your carelessness."

"I'm so sorry, miss, for..."

I stopped him. "Did you trample me?"

"No, miss."

"Apologize to what you did trample."

He clearly thought I was crazy, but it was what I felt was needed to make it all work out. And with the help of some ominous buzzing buzzing behind him, he did as I asked. "I'm so sorry, little plant. I hope you'll be healthy again."

I heard the sincerity. The Wild Rose did as well, I think, because we watched it heal itself. It did lose some stem and leaves, but overall it would live and do so happily.

I felt a change in his demeanour - the wondering if he'd just been callously humiliated. So I grabbed his wrist before he got up. "I'm Mistress Sweetwater, the new witch. This is my cottage and these are my grounds. You made a mistake, you've made amends, and everything has worked out because you worked to fix your mistake.

"Now it's time for you to go. I have work to do."

I gave him a few minutes before walking to the hive. "Thank you for being a part of this place. Makers of honey. Pollinators of flowers. Guardians of the grounds. Thank you."

I swear I heard, within the buzzing, something that sounded like an acknowledgement and gratitude. 

And with that, it was time for this witch to store some reagents, brew some tea, and listen to the music of the night.

Also the First Week of Spring - Meeting MouseEye

Here's the video on how I wrote Spring, Week 1, Rest Episode:

*****

 After curing Albert and having a bit of a rest, most especially getting over falling into that horrid cell - you'd think someone would have done a better job of shoring up the roof so's to not let prisoners have a way out - granted a hole in the roof - but still!

Anyway, with the witch gone but people still needing her services, I decided to settle in and do what I can. And yes, the allure of making some coin is fabulous but really my goal now is to do a good job so that when - not if - the old witch returns, she'll be appreciative of my efforts and will train me up. Meanwhile I have her book and whatever notes, bits, and doodads I can find.

Which is all fine and good but I do need wood for the fire and food to eat and laundry to do and and and... I was busy for a few days, just getting things back to a maintained level.

As I worked, I thought about something the book mentioned - a Familiar. I'm not entirely sure what it is that a familiar is, other than some sort of helpful creature who could help me. And while I didn't want to get ahead of myself again, I also thought that the fact that I'd just cured my first patient and that I intended to continue should be enough justification to put it out there and so see if there was a familiar who would want to work with me. 

The book said I should go to a location where I felt most in line with the energy. The forest is where I'd dwelled all my life so to the forest of Glimmerwood Grove I went.

Having learned my lesson of being mindful of my surroundings, particularly where I'm walking, I tried to pay attention. But my mind wandered - I thought about the wish I'd make before calling for my familiar. And I wondered who'd answer the call. And I wondered how they'd be able to help me. And I wondered...

"Lost in thought, are ya?"

The voice, old and gravely, cut through my musings. "Sorry, what?"

Standing there, plain as day, stood an elderly man. "I've been seeing smoke rising from the old witch's cottage. But I know she's not there. You've moved in?"

While I could have been distressed about the question, I decided to just admit it. "Yes. For now, anyway. It seems someone needs to be the local witch until she returns."

He grunted. "Knew her stuff, she did. Had that place full of plants and animals and who knows what else. Could cure the most horrendous of things. By the look of you, I'd say you can barely maintain good health, let alone cure ill. Hopefully though, you won't be quite so touchy about all the dumb ways people find to injure themselves."

"Well, I did just cure someone who'd been frogified."

"Ah! That'd be the Flywheel boy. Damn fool in my opinion, kissing frogs and dreaming of living in castles and all that royal living instead of helping at the mill. So where you headed?"

 I didn't see any harm in revealing it, so I told him.

He grunted in reply. "Plenty of things growing in the Grove. Good luck in your hunt."

And here's where I may have made a mistake. "I'm certainly going to hunt for ingredients, but first I'm going to summon a familiar." I thought it'd sound impressive. It wasn't taken that way.

"A familiar, huh? What's that, some sort of something what does your work for you? Sounds to me like another version of kissing frogs, if you take my meaning."

I think I must've recoiled a bit before responding, but I didn't get the chance. "Well, good luck to you. Don't let me keep you." And with that, he walked off.

Kissing a...? 

I'm not trying to... 

I'm... 

Am I?

Is this a way to avoid work? To be less than I should be?

These thoughts and more swirled in my head as my legs carried me to a spot in a clearing in the Glen.

So... should I do this? Should I ask for help? Should I look more like a real witch by having a familiar?

Yes, I decided. Yes I should. I deserve one! A helpful one! A giant one! A... a good one!

I must admit that I was far less tranquil than I wanted to be and probably should have been, but I was bound and determined to see this through!

After not gently, kinda throwing, stones into a kind of circle and not placing, more tossing, flowers into the mix, I kind of not sat, more threw my butt onto the ground, and then began. I felt, I magicked, I sang harsher than was pleasant, felt aggrieved, thought...

I should've waited to calm down and get my centre back. But I didn't.

Eventually I did hear a voice. It was tiny, soft, barely there. But I heard it - something had responded! I asked it to show itself.

From behind a small boundary of weeds peeked out a mouse. Now I'm not one to get squeamish about mice, but when you're dreaming of magnificent creatures, let's just say "mouse" is towards the bottom of the list.

"Um... hi?" Not the best way to start things, admittedly.  I'd just summoned - I should've been celebrating. And in its big mousey eyes I could see the hurt. I tried again. "Hi! I'm glad you answered my call. What can I call you?"

It stood up on its hind legs before speaking. "There were a lot of creatures who followed you, all hoping to be your familiar, but they got scared away as you threw rocks and flowers around. I just stayed and watched. And now I'm here."

Ah. Really not a good start. But I can try to salvage this. "I'm really sorry. I was upset and I didn't honour the magic. Please forgive me. I do hope we can work together."

Those eyes, so big on such a small creature. His name just seemed to come from them. "Can I call you MouseEye?"

He shrugged. "Sure." With a twitch of whiskers, he looked around. "What are we up to?"

"Let's gather some things."

"Ok." And with that, we started looking for useful items. By which I mean I was looking for plants and MouseEye watched me.

"Why don't you go over there and pick some things?"

"Must I?", he asked.

I had no idea how to answer that, so I just went with "It'd be great if you did!"

"Ok", he said. After I'd harvested some Wild Rose and Coffee Cap he eventually came out from the undergrowth and said, "I found some Songberries."

"Great! Did you bring them?"

"No. But I can take you to them."

Less than helpful, but ok. Off we trudged.

As we went along, I said, "You know, you could've brought it to me."

"Oh! I couldn't do that! I'm good at watching and I have an amazing memory. But I don't carry things. Sorry."

Right.

Ok!

Well... I guess I can work with this.

I guess.

Aloud I said, "Let's go to town. I haven't been there, really, and I think knowing what's there will help me in the future." MouseEye just shrugged.

Going back to High Rannoc this second time was a very different experience over the first. When I'd been in the cart, it had seemed big and daunting. This time though - it seemed a bit smaller. The outer wall wasn't really a wall - it was more like rotting timbers surrounding several buildings - some houses, some shops, and one recently vacated (by me) school.

I decided to visit a shop. I had 20 silver in my pocket, courtesy of my new found potion making abilities, and I thought I'd look into a thing or two to spruce up the cottage. Or maybe I could splurge on an ingredient or two and get ahead of what was sure to become a steady stream of patients. And so I went to the shop with a sign out front showing items being put into a sack. It had to be the general store.

I walked in and a small bell rang, alerting the proprietor of a potential customer entering the shop. Turns out it's called Bits & Bobs - the Bits being what they sell - a bit of this and a bit of that - and the Bobs being the name of the people running the shop through several generations.

This Bob was very nice, very helpful, and had plenty of bits for someone to buy! However, most of them are priced beyond anything I'll ever be able to afford!

Turns out 20 silver isn't quite the fortune I'd thought it was. I must've spent a couple of hours looking at his stock and trying to convince myself that I'm not a pauper. Despite being unable to afford anything.

Bob was very understanding and I think a bit pitying as well. He wished me well and assured me he'd be happy to help me whenever I come back. Where MouseEye was all that time I didn't know.

With that visit a bust, I thought I'd go to the tavern and have a bit of something while considering what to do next. It's called the Copper Fox Tavern.

This place too was quite empty but for the proprietor. His name wasn't Copper or Fox, but instead Fusillade ("call me Fussy, 'cause I am where quality is concerned!"). He said the name was given to him because of his habit of doing things over and over again until he got the result he wanted.

Anyway, he introduced himself and we chatted briefly - me talking about settling into the witch's cottage and his listening, when this young bravo walked in, apparently, or so MouseEye told me afterward, the two exchanged knowing glances, and then the newcomer approached me. Which is to say he less walked than strutted over, leaned up against my table, and before I had an idea of what was going on, he began what could only be considered his sales pitch.

"Roger Rogerson at your service. Monsters slain, dungeons delved, incredible feats... feated!" Out of the corner of my eye I could see Fussy close his eyes and shake his head. Clearly Roger's rehearsing of his pitch had been aided by Fussy and yet it still didn't flow.

I smiled back politely. "Why would I need your services, sir?" I thought it best to be very polite.

A quick look of confusion flashed on his face and then left as he found the answer. "Word has it you've moved into the witch's cottage and with you being young, inexperienced, and new to the area, I figured you'll want a stout companion as you gather ingredients."

I must admit that sounded attractive. Thoughts of the hollowness of Hero's Hollow resounded in my memory. I asked his price.

"I'm only a junior...", he started, then stuttered to a stop with the frantic waving of Fussy's hands. "Ten silver and it's a big discount, just for you."

Ten silver? Half my amount earned on a potion? Oh how far 20 silver doesn't go.

I think, even though I tried not to react, that he caught my inward sense of sticker shock. He started again, "Well... I suppose I could..." More frantic waving of Fussy's hands let to "...umm... take a deposit for future services?"

I tried to continue smiling. "Thanks. I'll keep you in mind whenever I go off foraging."

And then I thanked them both and left. Seconds later I heard Fussy and Roger arguing. Embarrassed, I just walked, not really paying attention, until I found myself at the town's fountain.

It's little more than a well but instead of dipping a bucket into a hole in the ground, the water conveniently comes up and burbles out into a large basin.

I sat on the edge just looking around at the few buildings I could see. One of them was my former school. I wondered if maybe I'd been too hasty in leaving. I wondered what in the world I was doing. I wondered...

"Hello dear. You look lost."

I looked up and saw a girl, not much older than me, holding a huge jug.

"Oh...uh...sorry." I moved out of what I thought was her way.

She giggled "Oh! Don't move on my account! It's nice to take a break from chores." She sat down next to me. "I'm Francie."

I didn't know what to say, so I went with "Hi." 

I think she giggled again at my awkwardness. "Are you a student at the school?"

"I was."

She nodded. "I was too. Did they tell you about the boy who died?"

"Yeah. And that it's why it's all learning inside."

"Yeah. They told us the same. That boy they keep on about died years ago. And apparently he fell. Some say from a cliff, others say it was from a high tree branch. But it was a son of the family that runs the school so they stopped allowing anyone to leave. Unless you graduate. Or quit. So I quit."

"Really? Me too."

"So now I work as a domestic. What are you going to do?"

"I'm living in a witch's cottage."

She stopped and looked at me with eyes wide and mouth open. "You didn't!?! You did!?! Wow - you are way braver than me. How's it like living with a real witch?"

"I don't know. She hasn't been home."

"Oh ho! A domestic for a witch who's not around? Have you looked through her stuff? Have you found her secrets? Oh, so exciting!"

And I guess somewhere around there is when I decided that the quiet and peace of the cottage would be far more welcome than these townspeople. Which is when MouseEye popped onto my shoulder and whispered (but loudly enough to be heard by Francie), "Mistress beckons."

Francie nearly dropped her jug in excitement. "Is that a familiar? I've heard of them!"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry but I have to go."

"He's so cute! What's his name?"

I paused for a moment, then said, "I don't know if I should say, but I guess I can tell you. It's Mortimer. Mortimer d'Excellence."

I started to get up but then MouseEye once again loudly whispered, "If you're going to share my name with someone, you should share my full name."

I shot him a look and he returned an innocent one back. "Mortimer d'Excellence Magnificarious Wiggle Whiskers. The Third."

I got up quickly as Francie tried repeating what I'd just said. And almost ran out of the gates.

I did manage to slow down on the way back and started to think about storing my new reagents and being ready whenever someone would need a witch's care.

I did think to ask MouseEye where'd he gone off to during my trip to town. "I watched", he responded. "Ok", I said, "Tell me what you saw. All of it."

"Must I?"