Also Also, Spring Week 11 - Liberation

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

*****

 I called for Vapour Trail. This time I got an acknowledgment. In the minutes between call and arrival, I gathered the other reagents that I could carry, pulled out Slow and draped her over my neck, then waited a few seconds before the broom arrived in her glowing glory. 

And then I remembered the ability to configure Pop as I needed. So I did. Cunk, after watching in disbelief as the light tower formed into a cargo elevator of sorts, allowing for huge mushroom cap transport, turned to me, slowly. "You witch? Ha! Yes! But not only." He then conspiratorially got in close (and I held my breath as best as I could). "Cunk friend. You remember. Cunk friend." He patted me on the shoulder (hard enough to bruise but not so hard as to knock me off my feet), got the mushrooms loaded, watched as Bess and I got situated, then waved as we flew off. 

It wasn't far to the cottage. "Bess, what was that you were saying in the boat?"

"It can wait until this round of crazy is over and we can talk without interruption. What I want to know is what's the plan for curing your patient?"

I told her.

"Seriously? Oh my goodness, you are serious. No. You aren't doing that alone. I'm coming with."

"But Bess! What are you going to do?"

"Look, there are things you are brilliant at. But in this one, you're going to need help from someone who's brilliant with a different skill set. And that's me."

We'd landed, our familiars had come over and seemed to want our collective attention, but we discussed the plan - no longer simply my plan, but our plan - until we each agreed. Neither of us was completely happy with it, but it was the best we could devise given the situation.

"Sounds complicated." That was MouseEye.

"Foolish, if you ask me. Which no one did." And that was Marvin.

"It's ok, you two. There's no need to be a part of it. You can sit this one out."

"Must I?" was the automatic reply. And then, I think, he realized just what he'd said.

"Well, if you want to be a part of it, that'd be great."

I don't know why, in the middle of all this, I found amusement in watching MouseEye's face wrestle with backing out or continuing on.

"Well... ok. Besides, you'll need me to watch."

"Ok, fine. Leave me behind. Again." Marvin, of course.

A few words of encouragement from Bess later had all four of us taking part in this cure mission.

The potion took a minute to put together. That was the easy part. The anticipated hard part was going to be getting our unwitting patient to drink it.

That's the point of contention that's been causing so much stress and anxiety. We knew (or strongly surmised) that Mrs. Ruffage, in catching Dragon Sickness and gathering students, possibly even just people in general, was somehow sedating them; it was highly unlikely that a large group of people would be unable to force their way to freedom. We could only assume that entering the building was a one-way trip. Unless, of course, we could effect a cure. Which is why it wasn't the potion itself that was the important part but instead the presentation of the potion that was; we had to make sure she drank it. Otherwise, things could get dicey. Bess, bless her, figured that because she was better at steering people to do things, and in particular people acting like a dragon, that she should be involved. I think too, she figured having another set of hands could be useful. MouseEye was another set of eyes and ears (yes, he's also an unreliable agent in all this, but still...). And Marvin... self-titled Smartest Creature on Earth. I had no idea how a talking donkey would be received but it was worth trying. Maybe the sheer confusion he'd introduce would help.

With the potion in a vial and ready to be administered, the four of us walked to High Rannoc. On the way, Bess started mumbling to herself, even trying out a tune. 

"What's that?" I had to ask.

"Hmmm...? Oh... just focusing on what we're doing in the moment and trying to not think about all the ways this could go wrong."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So... right now I've got something like this:

We're off to see the teacher

The magical teacher who's cursed

We hear she is a wiz of a witch

If ever a witch there was"

"You're able to think in songs at a time like this? Amazing!"

"You cope your way. I cope mine."

The laughter that followed was a bit forced and died off quickly. But the interaction was long and absorbing enough to get us to the High Rannoc gates. That were closed.

Camped outside the gates were a couple of travelling merchants. They appeared to have settled in, with a fire going, horses grazing, and tents set up. One merchant looked up.

"Ho there! The gates are closed!"

Just on the edge of hearing, Marvin muttered, "Captain Obvious to the rescue. What's next? 'You looking to go into town?'"

"You looking to go into town?"

"It hurts being right all the time."

As Bess shushed the donkey, I responded. "How long have you been camped out here?"

"Oh, not long. A couple of hours, maybe. Tried getting someone's attention to find out about the gates, but..." He shrugged to finish his statement.

We stared at the gates. I so wanted to just rip rotting boards off the rotting wall but that was more a thought towards my anxiety than a helpful plan. I knew it'd be simple to fly over the wall and open the gate. But... what if that was the point? What if it was a trap? Or what if I was grossly overthinking this?"

"MouseEye?", I asked, knowing the probable answer.

"Mmmhmm?"

Surprise number one - no, wait - this was bigger than a mere number could express - the mouse was still within earshot and willing to answer. "Can you check to see if it's safe on the other side of the gate?"

"Thinking about traps?"

"In this moment, that's all I can think about."

"Okay."

Surprise number... never mind numbering them; MouseEye was actually taking a look when I asked. I was shocked. Relieved! And shocked.

"It's clear", he said a moment later.

With that reassurance, I summoned Vapour Trail. I figured I could load up us four, get into town, and then... I wasn't sure what. At the last minute before the broom arrived, I gave the potion to Bess. "I have a feeling she's going to be focusing on me. So I hope that will give you space to dose her." Bess gulped but then nodded and accepted the vial. 

Although I could've had Vapour Trail land in front of us, I decided it'd be better to have it fly into the palm of my hand with a satisfying smack. The merchants' eyes went white with surprise. "I believe there is danger lurking on the other side of these walls. My friends and I are going to deal with it. When the danger is over, we'll get the gates open for you."

Now it was their turn to mutely nod.

I just wished I was half as confident as I sounded.

It would have been a quick hop over the High Rannoc wall. And, in hindsight, I guess it was. At the same time, as we sailed into the air and cleared the boundary between inside and outside, I found myself seeing a third option - flying into the sky and never coming back. Which, to be honest, hit me. I'd never considered leaving this place but perhaps in some way, shape, or form, I was starting to think in terms of being elsewhere.

But thinking through that thought would have to wait - there was something seriously wrong in town. It couldn't simply be a case of one person's Dragon Sickness.

I landed us in front of the Hightower residence. I figured that since I'd told Francie that I'd alert Madam Hightower that I was about to go to the Herbology School, I should do just that.

No one came to the front door when I knocked. Same at the back entrance. But it was unlocked. I let myself in... and found no one. This wasn't good.

I told Bess what I'd found. Or, hadn't found.

"That's not good."

"I know, right?"

"So what's the plan now? Does it change?"

"I think we're all going to have to be really careful. I'm just not sure what's going to happen."

We stood in silence for a minute. Then Bess said, "You know, if it weren't for the fact that it seems like the whole town could be... abducted, I guess is the right word... I'd be thinking about leaving this place. For now, anyway. And maybe getting some help."

"I hear you. I just don't know who we could enlist in this. And even if I was to seek help, it could take longer than some of those people have left. I mean... we don't know exactly what's happening in the school."

We shared resigned shrugs. And then started to walk towards the school building. We'd find out soon enough just how bad things were.

On the way, I found myself wondering who I could ask for help were I to seek help. The Count and Igor might be willing. I even had Richard's debt of appreciation for the cure I gave him a few weeks ago. The Sphinx might be willing, as might the Noble Elf in Glimmerwood Grove. Even Cunk, perhaps even his brethren, could help. But for each of them, I found a reason why it was impractical.

With each step closer to the school, the reasoning 'we're running out of time' loomed larger. Until we were standing in front of the rather unimpressive unimposing building.

As I approached the door, it opened, revealing the smiling face of the mayor's wife. Now, when I say 'smiling', it wasn't a good smile. Instead, it was self-satisfied, gloating, scary.

What had I walked into?

"Well, hello, Mistress Sweetwater. And you brought friends! Delightful. All of you will make your way inside. Just follow the blubbering cries of Francie. She'll be so happy to see you."

Now... I hadn't considered this. Not that this was at all foreseeable. Not even MouseEye saw it coming - he was on my shoulder when we were confronted. Drat. I did hear Bess direct Marvin in, as if he were an ordinary donkey. And we also heard Francie start calling out, panicked, asking us to not do anything heroic. 

I made my way to the room where Francie was. Behind her, holding a knife to her throat, was Mrs. Ruffage. And next to her was the mayor. In his hands was a doll.

"Well, isn't this cozy?", said the mayor with a smile that mirrored his wife's. Mrs. Ruffage, meanwhile, had a crazed look in her eyes. "Cozy? Oh, yes. Oh, I've been wanting for you, my dear. I've a collection of treasures, but not every gem is a jewel. You, dear, are a jewel and will be the prize of my trove."

Meanwhile, Bess and Marvin crammed in behind me, followed by the mayor's wife. Cozy? Not anymore. It was stuffed!

"You look confused. Allow me to explain it to you." This was the mayor, Oliver Chutney. "You see, no one likes you. I'd hoped you'd leave with the rumours swirling about me and you. But no, you stayed. Bought a broom, even. By the way, where is it?" He directed that at his wife.

"It's outside." That was his wife.

He looked annoyed. "You brought in a mule but didn't think it important to secure a magical broom?"

"Donkey.", I said.

"Mule. Donkey! Ass!! I don't care!!!"

"It's just that..."

"Silence, Sweet! Or should I say, Abigail?"

And there it was. The name I'd been advised to hide, and which of course the school knew. And so did the mayor. Who now had a long needle pointed at the doll's head. "Do you know what this is, Abigail? It's a kewpie doll. In an age where everyone insists on having more and more flash in their magic, I far prefer the tried and true. Allow me to show you." In went the pin into the doll's head. And I... didn't feel a thing.

Oliver, meanwhile, just grinned. "Oooo... a tough one, eh? You and me and dolly make three. I'm going to..."

"No! I'm going to place her in my collection with the others. You shall not harm my precious treasure."

The mayor's wife, meanwhile, had grabbed at Marvin to try to drag him out. And that's when things got really interesting.

Marvin refused to budge no matter how hard she tried to move him. She made the mistake of getting behind Marvin and trying to grab his back legs. Instead, she got kicked in the chest and was launched out of the room. Hearing that, I summoned Vapour Trail, which flew into the room and started to swat Oliver's head with her bristles. 

Within all that, I heard Bess exclaim in surprise, then felt Sarah being pulled out of my pocket by MouseEye. Mrs. Ruffage's eyes went wide in greedy excitement. She grabbed hold of my wand... and stopped moving. MouseEye shot me a look that meant I should grab hold of the wand and enter her space. 

I opened my eyes. I was standing in front of the lone tree on the hill. The glowing form of Sarah stood beside me. Looking confused, holding her head, and spinning in circles, was Mrs. Ruffage. I walked over to her.

"Mrs. Ruffage? You're safe. You're..."

"In your wand. Yes. And I, at least for now, have my mind back. I have a feeling your friends are administering a potion to cure me. Dragon Sickness, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes, ma'am." 

"I think I know how they infected me with it. A book, of all things. I started reading it and all of a sudden collecting treasure was all important. But not just any treasure - people. I had the school making sleeping draughts for days."

"A book? You mean they're responsible for attacking Count von Rannoc?"

"Sorry? Who's that, dear?"

"The vampiric necromancer living in Hero's Hollow?"

"Oh, him. Is that his name? I've only ever been interested in gathering a bit of venom from him from time to time. His curious assistant..."

"Igor."

"Really? Igor... hmmm... anyway, he collects it for me as needed."

Sarah took the following pause to interject. "You must depart. Things are reaching their conclusion."

I opened my eyes. Bess had somehow maneuvered herself to Mrs. Ruffage's side and stood there holding an empty vial. Oliver was curled up in a corner as the broom continued to beat him with bristles. MouseEye was sitting on the doll on the other side of the room. Francie had forced herself into a corner and was trying to shrink herself even smaller. And Marvin... he was standing over and keeping a watchful eye on a very still wife.

Mrs. Ruffage began trying to move. Bess, bless her, tried to look threatening.

"Bess, it's ok. The potion's working."

Bess backed off, a little uncertain. Mrs. Ruffage looked her in the eye. "The potion is working. Thank you. And now it's time to revive the town and the early-arrivals for the festival revels. Let me recommend we see to the senior staff first."

As she began to compose herself, Marvin asked, "I want to lie down on her. I know it'd be inappropriate, but I'm hoping someone, anyone, will say I'm wrong. Not that I ever am, but in this case I'll hold onto a glimmer of hope." When, after a few seconds of awkward silence had passed, he said, "Figures."

It was as if the room began to exhale: Mrs. Ruffage set off to begin helping all those she'd trapped, Francie declared she needed to be by Madam Hightower's side when she came to, and Bess and Marvin moved the now groaning Mrs. Chutney to where someone could see to her likely broken ribs safely. With a word from me, Vapour Trail stopped beating the mayor, who cried out in relief.

Seeing the opportunity, I crouched in front of him. "Why didn't your magic doll work?"

He looked from me to a very aggressive broom menacing him (there's something unnerving about a magical object that's just beaten you senseless while it hasn't broken a sweat. Not that it's possible for a broom to sweat, but when you're used to equating exertion with perspiration, not seeing the latter gives every indication it's still ready and willing to do the former), he complied and answered. "I don't know. It's always worked in the past. Even your predecessor succumbed eventually. Oh, she was tough but...". And then he shrugged.

I needed... space. Clarity. Answers. The truth. The world was unhinged, spinning, zooming past as I careened down the suddenly twisting hallway and heaving floor. Because... that name, the one I'd attached to for all my life (but for the last few months) was now not only disassociated from me (I really had come to embody 'Mistress Sweetwater'), but also just plain wrong. A lie. I didn't know who I was. I had to go, to move, to fly...

Vapour Trail was in my open hand, vibrating, potent, impatiently waiting. I climbed on to her bristles, not wanting anything except the feel of icy air blowing me to smithereens: cleansing, purifying, annihilating.  

I launched, the air screaming from the ferocious ascent. I'd never dared to fly so fast, so carelessly, incautiously. Clouds dissolved as I jetted through them. I think I was aiming at the sun itself.

Through tear-streaming eyes, I saw MouseEye perched on the broom's handle, sitting, smiling, whiskers twitching. Bastard - I can never stay angry in the face of twitching whiskers. But I wasn't about to release this any time soon.

"What do you want?", I shrieked.

By all rights, his answer should've been swallowed by the roaring wind, but I heard him as clearly as if we were talking in the cottage. "I'm proud of you, Mistress Sweetwater. And that I'm happy I stayed at the Familiar Summoning ceremony. Everyone else missed out."

"Oh yeah? But who the hell am I?"

"Exactly who you are. No more, no less. Names don't matter."

"Oh yeah? What do you know?"

He just kept smiling. "I know you call me a name that is now mine but wasn't before. And you used to be called a name that wasn't fully you. That's probably why the doll didn't work."

"But...!"

We both stayed silent, thinking. At least, I was.

"May I assume you're going to let Count von Rannoc know about the source of the trapped book?"

"Absolutely."

"Then may I suggest we go there now? Perhaps a necromancer will have insights we don't."

The Count? The Hollow? Why not! Besides... it was freezing up here!

By the time we arrived, I'd calmed down a bit. I wasn't seeing red anymore - it was more like a dusky pink. Still red-ish, but not so vivid. Also, the sun had set, meaning the count should be up and around and available to see me.

I walked into the Count's rooms (I'd been tempted to fly in but MouseEye cautioned that all it would take was one bad turn and things could get... difficult), swept passed Igor, and into the Count's study. He was reading a book, looked up at me, over to Igor who'd followed me in, shook his head subtly, then closed the book and regarded me.

"Igor, tea please." He then sat back. "The tale playing across your face is bursting to be vocalized. But do take a minute to compose yourself. Only when you are ready should you begin. And, I beg you, from the beginning."

Sip, breathe, talk.

The Count help up a hand. "Twice more. Then begin."

Sip. Breathe. 

Sip.

Breathe.

Talk.

I told him everything. The Dragon Sickness, The mayor and his wife. The book. The doll. The failed magical attack and the supposed problem.

I paused. He looked thoughtful. Then, "Igor."

"Yeth, Marthter?"

"I believe we're going to have the mayor and his wife for dinner tonight. Do make sure everything's in readiness."

"Indeed? Excthellent, Marthter!"

The count viewed me again. "So a curse requiring your name failed? That is interesting."

And this is where Sensibility, which had been consigned to a small locked cupboard in the dark recesses of my mind, finally broke free, shouting as it approached, that having a vampiric necromancer help in this regard was about a stupid a thing as anyone could ever do.

My face must have fallen in the moment, because Richard smiled, pleasantly. There wasn't a hint of rapacious wolf or crazed bat in his demeanour. "Yes, you've just realized what you've asked and of whom you've asked it. I currently owe you two debts - the one just now, informing me who was responsible for the cursed book in the first place, and that of curing the curse inflicted on me. I shan't hurt you nor act against you. What I will do, however, is consult Askew. Come."

We ended up in a room dominated by an elaborate series of chalked circles, symbols, candles, and I want to say there was more in there but I can't clearly recall now. Bidding me stand next to him, he spoke and chanted and made elaborate gestures and... then it was over.

"I should have guessed.", he said.

"Should have guessed what? And weren't you going to call Askew for help?"

"I did. It's done. You have no memory of it because, in a sense, it didn't happen within this space and time. But I do have an answer."

"Ok?"

"Let's go back to my study. It may take a minute to explain."

So we did. And it did. And... wow.

"So... what you're saying is, and I am still in disbelief, that my father is a woodcutter..."

He nodded.

"...and my mother is a dryad?"

He nodded again. "And isn't it fitting your chosen pseudonym is 'Sweetwater'. For what is sap, the precious fluid of trees? Sugar water. Or, in your case, Sweetwater."

"But... I chose it without thinking! I had to pick something and..."

"...and you unconsciously honoured your heritage."

Once again, everything began to swim. Reality was determined, and I mean dead-set, on making sure no rock was left unturned in remaking my life experience. My life! My... Everything!

Richard looked compassionate. "It's a lot. You've been through a lot. The question is... What are you going to do with what you now know?"

"I..." That stopped me. So many things had happened. So many things. I needed... I needed a hug. A discussion. A plan. I needed Bess. "I'm going to go back to High Rannoc, help with what I can, go to the cottage, and talk and think and maybe not decide anything but definitely process everything."

"A fine answer. Now, not to be rude, but I do have dinner plans that I eagerly wish to see through to fruition."

Numbly, slowly, I made my way out. To Vapour Trail. To High Rannoc. To seemingly all its residents. Hugs. Heart-filled thanks. Tears. Apologies. Explanations. Catharsis repeated over and over again.

Bess. She found me. I slumped against her, or she against me against her.

Not 'against'. Never 'against'. Just 'we'. She and me. Side by side. Together. Safe. Always.

We got onto Vapour Trail. Called to MouseEye and Marvin, who also boarded. "Take us home."

I don't remember anything else about that night.

Also Spring, Week 7 - MouseEye's Adventure

To listen to the narration and hear how I put the episode together, click the video link below:

*****

 I have to admit, I'm not quite sure how to talk about what I just found out. I'm not quite sure who I can tell! I want to tell someone, but it's... have you ever had something that you wanted to say and that it makes perfect sense when you tell someone face-to-face but it just loses its punch when it's written down? Well, I have. I want to tell someone but there's no one here to tell (because I have, apparently, a very discriminating social presence. Meaning I'm pretty much left alone/avoided unless, of course, there's a potion involved).

Which is why I'm sitting here, at my small desk in the cottage, chewing on the end of my pencil, thinking about what to write in a letter to Pip. Of all the people I know, I think she's the only one who'll appreciate the story. But that brings me back to wanting to tell the story face-to-face, maybe in a bit of a gossip session. Not that anyone gossips anymore! Oh no. It's all Speaking Truth and Airing Things Out and Spilling Tea. But it's not gossip!

Ok - I think what I'll do is relate the story on some paper here and if I feel like it comes across ok there, I'll send it to Pip so she can be just as amazed as I am.

Now to compose my letter.

Dear Pip,

Hi! How are you? How's everything in your neck of the Here Yet Not Here?

You won't believe what happened! (Oh, sorry - I'm supposed to wait for you to answer the questions and I'm supposed to listen and nod and pretend I'm not about to burst to tell you what I want to tell you. So pretend I did!) But I think in order to really appreciate the story, you need a clearer picture of life here than what I've provided before.

I live in a small cottage with Pop (she's lightfull, by the way. And I do mean "light-full". She's like my own private floating light source, like a very small sun, but with an automatic dimmer. And no heat aside from her gentle warmth when she lands on me. Thank you for sending Pop O' Lock here - we're all happy) and MouseEye.

MouseEye... how to describe him? He's a mouse, for one. He's my familiar. And while he can often cop an attitude when asked to do something, he can also be helpful - and oftentimes in unexpected ways. For instance, so far I know he can speak to humans, bees, toads, and I'm pretty sure to Pop as well. 

One thing that he has a habit of doing is disappearing. Often at very inconvenient times, like when I'm in danger of being eaten by a sphinx. (Thankfully it was vegetarian, so the danger wasn't as grave as it could've been, but you get the idea). When he shows up after disappearing, I'll ask where he's been. And he'll usually say "Must I?". (I know I asked to call him MouseEye but I had no idea it'd be so close to what has become his trademark remark!)

Today he reappeared in his usual space in and amongst my spirit house (which is also where mail from you tends to arrive. Weird, yeah?). Despite the fact that I've stopped asking about his solo travels far and wide to who knows where, I decided to show an interest on where he'd been this time. And he told me!

That alone made my jaw drop. And maybe it's that fact alone that makes the story so amazing - the he actually shared what happened!

At least I hope it's a true account. It'd be a shame if he just made it all up. I mean... would he make up a story? No - I don't think so. If he didn't want to share, he wouldn't. He'd change the subject or ignore me or say "Must I?". I don't think he's interested in telling tall tales - it's too much work. So I'm going to believe this is true and if it's not... well, I'll just deal with it then.

Oh, look at me - I just looked and realized I've been babbling on without actually saying anything of note yet. It's like I think paper just grows on trees! (And yes, I know, it kinda sorta does!)

Ok. Enough jabbering! To what happened.

I'm going to assume you have a forest in your Here Yet Not Here (I think I'll just write that as HYNH for now. I hope you don't mind!). In my version it's called Glimmerwood Grove. It's a lovely forest, although I must admit I have an affinity for forests. My father's a woodcutter. He lives days away but it's a forest not unlike the one here. Here meaning near my cottage, not here like my side of HYNH. 

Anyway - I went camping in there once. And found a sleeping giant. With the most fungus-covered feet I've ever seen! It was... blech! I mean, I know we witches have to deal with the yucky and nasty parts of life, along with the life-fulfilling and satisfying ones, but still!

Ok - I was supposed to start telling you the story and I got distracted again. This time for sure!

Like I said, MouseEye got back from another one of his solo adventures. It turns out he was exploring Glimmerwood Grove. While he was in there, he found a kind of open-air throne room. He said he just happened upon it - that one second he was stepping, or I suppose padding, through some heavy brambles and ended up stepping into this space. It was all light blue, apparently - sort of like if the sky had been molded into bricks. But it's also apparently old enough to be covered in hanging vines and moss. He said the weird thing was that it all looked so well tended.

Sitting at the other end of the... I suppose it could be called a chamber, although I think chambers are supposed to have some sort of ceiling or roof over them. Anyway, at the opposite end was a throne. And apparently there was no doubting it was a throne because it was big, golden, and elaborate with carvings and ornate decorations. And sitting on the throne was an elf. Now... have I mentioned that MouseEye prides himself on watching and remembering things? This time, however, the self-described watcher was watched by this elf as he looked around and took it all in. And, I guess, the elf was quite amused by MouseEye's wondrous reactions to it all. 

"Welcome to my court.", the elf said in greeting.

"Hello.", MouseEye replied. And continued looking around.

"I am High Lord Aeronil. And you are?"

"MouseEye. You can call me MouseEye."

"And what brings you, MouseEye, to my court and my presence?"

"Hmm...? Oh... nothing. I just stepped through some foliage and ended up here."

"Ah.", was all the elf said.

"Were you hoping for someone in particular?"

The elf's smile dimmed a bit. "I'd hoped that... ah... well, never mind."

MouseEye insists that he turned his magnificent, soulful eyes towards the elf and that that was the reason he became more forthcoming.

"You see... I'd hoped someone would come and replace me here. And you seemed a likely candidate."

"But I thought you said this is your court."

"Ah... technically, it is. Presently. When my replacement takes over, it'll be their court."

"And you thought I was your replacement?"

The elf shrugged. "Stranger things have happened. You could've been a carefully disguised elf."

"How long have you been waiting?"

The elf sat up straighter. "Well... I don't know exactly. Mind you, when you're a member of a long-lived race, such as those of us from Elvendom, long stretches of time can pass by seemingly in an instant."

MouseEye nodded. Then he said, "So how long was that?"

"A long time."

"And you're the only one here?"

"Ah... yes. Yes, I am. The rearguard, I suppose. Of our migration to a new land."

"And so you're waiting on a replacement from the new land where your people are now?"

"That. Or for help in moving the throne. It's quite heavy."

MouseEye nodded in sympathy. "Ok. Well, I should go."

The elf stopped him. "Wait! Would you tarry longer? I'll trade you a tale for a tale."

That stopped MouseEye. "Would you say that your tale is a part of a much larger tale? The Tale of History, I think you could say?"

The elf pondered it. "Yes... I see your point. So - a portion of a tale for a portion of a tale."

"And would you also say that any portion of a tale, in terms of the Tale of History, would be quite a small portion of that tale?"

The elf looked confused, but said, "I don't know where you're going with this, but yes. My tale is but a very small piece of the great Tale of History."

So MouseEye said, "Agreed. You give me a small piece of a tale and I'll do the same and give you a small piece of a tale in return."

Now, I hope you recognize that I've filled in the gaps a bit here and there because, as I mentioned earlier, MouseEye isn't always great with telling me things and can omit some details. So this conversation and agreement may have a bit made up, but in the end MouseEye and the elf agreed to trade bits of a large tale. 

The elf told MouseEye about the history of Count von Rannoc, the necromatic vampire who lives in a dungeon close to the cottage. It's called Hero's Hollow. And I can attest to just how hollow it is! I fell into a jail cell while on my way to the Hollow for the first time! And that was in my first week of being the new witch here! Oh - yeah - I've now been here about two months, so I'm relatively new still, but I've been learning so much and visiting new places and treating all sorts of conditions! It's been fun learning and doing and all that!

And... oh, right! The Count! So it turns out a few hundred years ago, there was this pig farmer. He'd raise pigs, take them to market, or sometimes stay home - you know, all that. Nothing extraordinary. Some days he'd have plenty to eat and could even afford roast beef while other days were lean and there was no food at all. But this one day, when he went to the market, the slaughterhouse took his pigs but refused to pay him! He threatened to go to the police, which is when the mage, who'd been hired by the slaughterhouse for just this sort of thing, said he'd make sure that no one would ever trust him again and that he'd forever after be a creature of the night. He ran all the way home (making some sort of strange "wee wee" noise) but the transformation took hold - he was a vampire from that day forth.

He knew he could never live as a pig farmer again. Or, really, as a farmer at all. So he just ran. And wandered. Eventually he found the dungeon and took up residence there. He became a necromancer to try to find a way to reverse the vampirism. 

This, by the way, is the same vampire who tried to force the spirit of the land under my cottage to bend to his will. For his efforts, the land quite ably defended itself and defeated him, so he only ended up with bruises. 

Anyway, after the elf told his tale, MouseEye said, "That was quite a piece of tale you gave me. I hope you'll find the piece of tale I give you is satisfactory." And then he plucked a few hairs from his tail. "Here's a small piece of tail in return."

Now... I've wondered a time or two during my own adventures if perhaps I was pushing my luck in dealing with those I encounter. But this! This was... oh my! I can't even bring myself to imagine being that bold. And yet there he was, in all his mouse-y glory, holding a bit of fur out in trade for the story.

The elf, for his part, took the proffered hair. "You have played a trick on me. Were I not so bored, I might've taken offence. But this was the only entertainment I've had in ages."

I don't know if MouseEye went anywhere else after that, but as I said, he eventually came home and told me the tale and the tale of the tail.

Whew!

I see I'm getting close to the end of my paper, so I'll close this for now and hope to hear from you soon.

Your Bestie,

Sweet

After a moment's consideration, I folded up the packet of paper, addressed it to Pip, stretched my cramped writing hand, and wondered what she'd thing about this all.

And I'd have a thing or three to ponder over the next few days!

Spring, Week 7 - That Which Giveth, That Which Taketh Away

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

*****

 The days are getting longer, the nights shorter. Nature is drinking up the sunshine, bringing life and activity to the land. Not to say that the land's been dead! Far from it! But there's a noticeable difference in tonight's sunset than there was when I first arrived seven weeks ago.

Seven weeks! I can't believe time has gone so fast! And I'm certainly not the same person I was, bumbling into a role that, if I'm being completely honest, would have seemed an insurmountable challenge. And yet here I am.

I feel like I'm at peace with things. I know there's more to be discovered, more territory I've yet to visit, more ailments that will need treatment, but I'm at peace with where I am, and even who I am.

Watching the last of the twilight dim, I felt like I'd been part of a daily ceremony, the changing of the guard from day to night. Oddly satisfying, in its way, almost as if the desire to do morphs into the desire to rest. And that, after any day at the cottage, is a feeling I willingly embrace!

I'd banked the fire, letting it sleep. It too would be called upon with the new day. Pop's gentle glow as it moved about the cottage, floating where it will or settled on the spirit house, was comforting. MouseEye's usual spot was empty, but that in itself wasn't unusual - he would just as often disappear as reappear... ok - that's obvious, I guess! What I'm trying to say is that MouseEye isn't tied to my side. Wherever he is, I know he's safe. And I hope he's not intrusive or indiscreet!

Which brings my thoughts to Roger. Bathing. That was... I just don't need to see that much of anyone ever again! Chuckling to myself (and probably I'll be chuckling about it for a very long time), I sat in front of the spirit house, relaxed and breathed, and let the day's memories and labours release.

I did wonder, as I sat, if when I sleep I somehow connect with the Here Yet Not Here. Is it somewhere you can go? Much like up beyond the clouds in Madcap's balloon, could a voyager find themselves Here Yet Not Here? What would that be like? How would it work?

Could I package myself up, set myself on the mantlepiece, and end up... at Pip's house? Could I go elsewhere? What would that be like!?!

When I start to let my mind wander at night (like I "let" it - it just flies off in a direction and I feel like I'm running after it - again like Madcap's balloon), I know my sleep will be more active, less restful. I'll have cobwebs aplenty come morning but maybe overnight I'll garner insights, or inspirations, or epiphanies. But none of that will come until I let me mind drift off with head on pillow.

I close my eyes and doze off. Sleep envelopes. 

And a knock awakens. "Mithtrith?"

Igor? Pop's glow increased, allowing me to find my clothes and throw them on.

Opening the door, I saw Igor's worried face, brows knitted, hands (all three) clenching and squeezing, always in motion. "Please, come in. Take a seat and tell me what brings you here."

He did as I invited. And then told me about Richard, Count von Rannoc, vampire, necromancer. "He doethn't theem himthelf. And now he'th thaying he wantth to watch the thunrithe."

"It... I mean... he won't die, will he?", I asked.

"No. But it thertainly won't be good for him."

"Do you want me to tend to him?"

"I'm embarrathed to athk, but yeth. Pleathe. Thith ith beyond me."

I spent some more time asking about his condition, when it'd started, noticeable symptoms. And Igor, being not just an assistant but one versed in science and observation, was a wealth of information.

As I consulted the old witch's book, MouseEye sat down on the open page. I asked with a glance if he'd heard everything. With a small nod he indicated he had. With a small shrug I said I wasn't sure what it was but tentatively pointed at an ailment description. With a small shrug back he said my guess was as good as his so let's run with that diagnosis for now. 

Or maybe he thought we were talking about something completely unrelated to the visit. 

Anyway, I thought about a plan of action for the case. I had Princess Toad mucous already (and what is it with so many reagents being slimy and gross!?!). Mixed with Coldrust (and luckily I knew where to get some in Hero's Hollow), it'd make a cure for the ailment known as Loss of Experience. I had no idea how someone so old and knowledgeable as the Count could catch something like this, but it made sense in all other respects.

I grabbed the slime... sorry... the mucous reagent... and a few other things and made ready to go to the dungeon. I wasn't sure if I was more or less comforted that Igor would be joining me but I figured at the very least he'd make for interesting conversation on the way.

Such was not the case. Igor, despite appearances, could walk faster than was comfortable for me. I half-trotted to keep up, not leaving me with much breath for talking. I did manage to ask if the Count knew we were coming.

"No. But the Marthter will apprethiate your expertithe when we arrive."

From what I'd gathered about the necromancer's temperament when confronted with the unexpected, this wasn't a great idea. I tried to trust Igor's judgement. I'd almost succeeded by the time we entered the Hollow.

I opted to detour us to the armoury, the site of my last Coldrust harvest, to gather some before making our way to the Count's rooms. The rusting magical weapons and armour may be of no use to warriors but it's a treasure trove of Coldrust for me!

Igor then led us to his "Marthter'th chamberth". It was a quick walk - again mostly because Igor was moving at a speed that would be a near-certain ankle twister for anyone else. Maybe he found a way to distill some of the faires' rat spit so that he could go faster?

I felt my mind begin to wander. And... I stopped it. This was no place to not pay attention to where you're stepping!

Soon enough, we arrived. Igor bade me stay back a couple of paces - to announce me, I guess. I heard:

"Marthter? Mithtrith Thweetwater ith here to thee you."

"Why? For what purpose? And have you seen my book on theories of the beyond?"

"Yeth, Marthter. It'th on your dethk, Marthter. And no, I don't know why the witch ith here, Marthter."

"Hmm? Ah, yes. The book is here. Very good. And now if only I had my codex handy..."

"It'th altho on your dethk, Marthter. Next to the book."

"Ah. Yes. So it is. Good. Umm... I feel like I'm missing something..."

"Yeth, Marthter. Mithtrith Thweetwater ith here to thee you."

"Is she? I'm... very busy... have her... uh..."

As they were talking, Igor reached for my arm, then gently guided me forward. Then another arm reached behind me and gave me a hefty shove forward on my back. I looked up into the eyes of a startled necromantic vampire.

I did mention, didn't I, that his behaviour when startled isn't exactly... carefully considered? Today, however, was different.

"Oh! Mistress Sweetwater, right? How unexpected."

I turned to look for Igor. He was gone.

"I... ah... yes. I thought I'd check in on you. I..."

"Check in on me? Hmmm... Why? Has Igor been gossiping again?"

"Ah... no! No. But he did say you were contemplating watching the sunrise and I thought it'd be lovely to do together."

"Did he now? And... was I really planning to do that? Well... sorry you came all this way, but I'm far too busy to be galavanting off. I've... have you seen my book on theories of the beyond?"

As I was about to point it out, I spotted MouseEye standing on it (but out of sight of the Count, of course) making "danger" motions: thumb drawn across the neck, glassy eyes with tongue lolling, arms crossed in front of his chest making a big X. I walked up to the table, took the book (somehow MouseEye disappeared. Maybe as I blinked?), pretended to read it, then said, "I think you meant to get it from the library but you grabbed the wrong one. Let me get the right one for you."

As I stepped out of the room, I heard Richard start talking to himself about finding another something or other. Igor was waiting.

"Do you thee what I mean? He'th not right in the head."

"Can I use your lab? I'm sure it's Loss of Experience, but I don't know how he would've contracted it. Unless... where did this book come from?"

"That? Oh... I'm not thure. Which ith odd. An adventurer did vithit a couple of dayth ago. I wath buthy in the lab, and I don't pry into the Marthter'th buthineth, but I do catalogue all the bookth. Thith one I've never theen. I wonder if the Marthter bought it. It theemth odd that he would, but then again..."

"I wonder if it's a trapped book. Like maybe you start to read it and instead of giving you information, it takes it. Does that sound plausible?"

"That'th... you know, people think of necromantherth ath evil becauthe they work with the dead and death. But thith... to turn a book from a giver to a taker... that'th real evil."

Igor took the book. "I'll examine it while you brew."

I just looked at him. "You can be so certain, and safe, while doing it so fast?"

He looked back at me. "You can brew a pothun tho fatht and be thertain you and he will be thafe?"

"Point taken."

He laughed. "Anyway, forewarned ith forearmed."

A few minutes later we reconvened. We both said, "Is it...?", then stopped. I let Igor go first.

"Trapped, as you thuthpected. The book itthelf ith inert. You had to thtart reading the text for the trap to thpring." He then looked at me more sharply. "How did you know?"

I was about to answer when I heard a mouse-y voice behind me. "I told her."

Igor shot me an appraising look. "That familiar ith a keeper if ever there wath one. Now - the pothun?"

I held up the cup holding it.

"Will thith... rethtore him?"

I didn't know. So that's what I answered.

"Here'th to hoping." He took the cup and entered the Count's study. "Reading ith thirthty work. Here'th a refrethment."

The Count, for his part, was standing in front of a tapestry. But he wasn't actively looking - the body was too slumped, the head not quite square. It was like no one was home. He clearly wasn't reading. He clearly wasn't doing much of anything. But he did take the drink without a word and downed it. And then we waited.

The changes were subtle but added up to awareness being reawakened. Then, slowly, he looked at us. Sometimes vampires are depicted with red flames in their eyes. Other times they're shown with wolfish grins and protruding canines. I'd never seen the Count like that. Until this moment.

"What?" The demand was directed at Igor.

"The new book, Marthter."

"Where?"

"Ditharmed. In the Library."

The vampire then turned to me.

"You?"

I was speechless. Frozen. The intensity of that gaze... it grabbed everything I was and blasted it aside. I just stood there, mute.

"Her. Yeth, Marthter."

Richard, Count von Rannoc, slowly approached me, never breaking eye contact. All I could see was his eyes, and beyond them, the Void. He reached down, took my hand, and kissed it. "You, witch, are worthy of the name. I'm indebted to you."

My brain slowly dragged its way back. "I... ah... just brewed a potion."

He continued to stare through me. "No. You returned me. Aside from your usual rate for the mundane task of brewing a potion, I am in your debt. The silver is a pittance. And you shall not refuse."

The more laggard pieces of my mind started to recover. "No."

The Count's eyes blazed again. Before he could speak, I continued. "I will accept that I've done you a greater service than simply treat a condition. And I accept that you feel indebted to me. But it's something I never intend to call. For me, there is no debt."

The stare, that terrible stare, continued. But now I was back, aware, fully myself. And I was able to absorb the stare and withstand it, hold it, and even calmly return it. And he laughed. "Never let it be said that witches are simply crazy women living in little cottages who mutter over steaming cauldrons." Then he held up a hand. "I, for one, have never said such a thing. Others? Yes. But not me."

Of a sudden, he looked drained. "Would you care to sit with me a moment? Apparently I need time to recover. Igor? Some tea please."

"Yeth, Marthter. With pleathure."

The Count and I sat. He more reclined. "Your predecessor. She warned me once about this, or something similar. 'They only have to get lucky once. You must remain perpetually vigilant.' Oh, the tongue lashing she'd've given me, were she here."

He looked deep in thought, formulating what to say next. "She was something, you know. A force of nature. She, a witch, working with all things from birth to death. And me, a necromancer, working with death as birth." He paused. Then, "They say opposites attract. But there was no way it would ever work. And then she went to the Imperial City."

That stopped me. I didn't think he knew about that, that Igor had intercepted her letter to him. He saw my facial expression and laughed. "Igor's protective. But that doesn't mean I'm ignorant."

"Your tea, Marthter. Mithtreth."

"Thank you, Igor.", said the Count.

"Should I track down the culprit, Marthter?"

"No. No doubt the poor fool was duped or geased. The real perpetrator will have clean hands. So we'll have to be more circumspect in our search."

"Yeth, Marthter."

Igor left and the Count and I talked for a while longer. At some point, I yawned. The Count reacted. "Dear me! I just realized what time it is! You must be exhausted! Shall I have Igor prepare a guest room for you?"

It was tempting, but really all I wanted was the peace of my own cottage and the safety of the land surrounding me. So I declined. And soon after, headed out.

On the way out, two things happened.

One was that I passed by the Silverleaf outcropping and gathered some. And then, remembering this unlucky fellow who'd bled to death trying to harvest it. I gathered some Old Blood from near him. Show me a witch who doesn't harvest reagents when they have the chance and I'll show you, not a witch, but a crazy woman living in a cottage muttering over a steaming cauldron. Ha! I still can't believe he said that!

The other thing that happened is that while I was walking passed the jail cells and paying them no mind, I heard a poorly stifled sneeze. It... no... it couldn't be...

I stopped and looked. And then I saw. A figure huddled in a cell, trying to hide. "Show yourself.", I said. I was calm. I was cool. I was collected. And I had a very interested vampire relatively close at hand if things went really badly.

"Um... hello?", it said. He, I amended. He said.

"Let me guess. You gave a necromancer a book, probably not willingly, and you are now stuck here, scared, and not knowing the way out."

"I did what?" The panic in his voice spoke volumes. He didn't know what he'd done. "Please, miss, I woke up here. I don't know where here is, but it isn't where I want to be!"

"I won't hurt you. You're safe. Come on out and I'll show you how to get out." It took more convincing than that, but he did eventually join me. I knew the way pretty well by this point, so it was a quick and easy journey to the exit. The feel of the nighttime air felt so much better than the dungeon's stagnancy. 

"Oh thank the heavens! I'm out! Here, miss, this is yours!", he shouted as he dropped a pouch at my feet, and ran off. I picked it up, felt the weight, and heard the clink of coins. I'd count it later. My main thought in that moment was the hope that he'd find his home ok.

As for me, I went home. But instead of going to bed, I sat outside and waited. It didn't feel like a long time but it gave me time to decompress, to process, to wonder, and to eventually watch the sunrise.

Spring, Week 6 - She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain

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

*****

 "Sorry. What? How about this - sit down, take a nice deep breath, then when you're ready, take it from the top."

As Roger began to work through this calming exercise, I was able to take a minute to reflect on what had been, until his arrival, a lovely morning. 

I'd spent it quietly, starting with my now usual practice of sitting and breathing in front of the spirit house. Afterwards, I spent some time with the bees. They'd flown around me, landed on me, and gently swarmed me. Far from creepy, it was comforting. Although their little gripper feet can be a bit much on bare skin!

I was within that communion of companionship when this loud lout had burst upon the grounds. Thankfully he was consistently loud so I wasn't hurt by startled bees.

At first I'd tried to ask Roger about why he was here, but all he'd been doing is talking, and acting out something that had happened somewhere. I was hoping he'd make more sense after taking a minute to settle. But in watching him try to sit quietly, it was clear there was something going on bodily - he just couldn't sit still. And what's more, odd movements kept happening. It was like watching something in a bag trying to get out.

Despite that, he did quiet down. And told me his story.

"You remember that I'm an adventurer, right? I approached you in the Copper Fox a few weeks ago and offered to guard you on your foraging journeys. Say! Why haven't you ever hired me? I'm really good at guarding and guiding. I mean, ok, yes, my armour is bits of what I can find to cover my important bits but I'm saving up for a quality piece of leather. It's going to be awesome! There're these trim pieces, red, you know, that'll set it off and..."

I help up my hand, hoping he'd stop talking. Again. "Yes, Roger, I remember you. I've been managing reagent gathering just fine. But I haven't forgotten your kind offer."

"And affordable!"

"Yes, very affordable. But not needed by me to date. So why don't you tell me what brings you here."

"Right! Yes! Well, I was hired to take my customer... sorry - my client - to Hero's Hollow."

"Ok. Who was your client?"

"Oh! Sorry - I have a strict policy of not revealing my clients' identities. Anyway, apparently there's a necromancer living in the dungeon. So we went in search of a reanimated skeleton. We had money to pay!"

*Sigh* So the doctor was still in search of a living skeleton. "So what happened?"

"We made our way to where my client knew the necromancer lives. And we met this... I guess... person? Anyway, we got there. This... person... directed me to a room while the necromancer and my client conducted their business.

"There was so much cool stuff in the room! I swear I didn't hear anyone say anything about not stepping into the chalked star-shape on the floor. But let me tell you, I heard about it right after I did it. The necromancer threw us out! My client was so angry. Anyway, there was some other stuff yelled back and forth but I couldn't focus on it. Not that any of that stuff would have made sense to me even if I'd been paying attention. Instead, I started feeling really weird. Like I wanted my body to do one thing but things kept trying to move in weird ways. I mean, I'm a highly trained warrior! Reflexes that just... Snap!... like a trap. Here - watch!"

I stood there, politely, watching. I didn't care about his... air sword attacks and air shield blocks, I guess you could call it. I watched as bones continued to move about in decidedly odd ways. It was if his skeleton had become reanimated inside his body. Restless Bones, the witch's book calls it. It's annoying to have but doesn't progress beyond the bones trying to move independently. The muscles help to keep everything in check. 

Roger had just finished reenacting some sort of mythic battle where he was the sole survivor. I interrupted his victory speech. "Roger, why didn't the doctor treat you?"

"Umm... well..."

 I just raised my eyebrows, waiting for what was going to be a ridiculous answer. 

"He said I have PNSD. Post Necromancer Stress Disorder. He said I'll be fine in a few weeks. And he wanted to give me some pill or other for stress. But I told him that my body is a temple and that I can't pollute it with something that'll make me sluggish. Here - watch!"

I managed to get his attention before he began slaying vast numbers of dread enemies. "I can make a potion. It'll take a bit, but I can do it. And it won't make you drowsy. Is that ok?"

"That sounds great! Here - watch as I show you how I defeated the Moose-headed Minotaur!"

"That's great. Yeah. Just great. Say! How about I direct you to these trees over here. Yes, these trees. The trees that are a good ways away from the cottage and my bee hive. Ok? I'm going to gather some things and head out. You can stay here until I'm back."

*****

"It's nice being out here. The peace. The quiet. No trying to chop down a tree using a twig." MouseEye perched on my shoulder, echoed what I'd been thinking. He continued. "Although it does seem a bit cruel to whack a living tree repeatedly with a piece of dead tree. I mean... trees have feelings too."

I said, "I do hope they have a good sense of humour."

MouseEye shrugged. "I'd think they're rather uptight. How else can you grow so tall?"

We both had a good laugh.

It felt good to be out, walking, enjoying the sun, the breeze, and the gentle odours that floated on it. Not to mention the mountain looming ahead of us. Somewhere up there was Glittersnow - the product of snow absorbing the power within ley lines. Combined with a bit of Wild Rose, that lovely flower growing in my plant bed, Roger and his amazing reactions/warrior instincts/pure physicality would be restored. Which, I'm sure to the relief of the trees, would result in relief in not having him whack them over and over as he tried out various battle cries.

I thought about the best way to locate the Glittersnow and it occurred to me that rather than find snow and hope it was on a ley line, that instead I should look for a ley line and follow it up the mountain until I hit snow. Rather brilliant of me, I wasn't ashamed to admit!

The trick, then, was to find a ley line. And for that, I didn't need my eyes. (In fact, they'd get in the way). Instead, I focused internally, paying attention to my intuition. (While there are other methods of finding ley lines, like pendulums and divining rods, they're just methods of focusing intuition). It did take a while of navigating the hills and terrain of the Mountain while staying focused on the ley line (and in there as well was MouseEye, who began telling jokes. It would've made things more difficult if I'd been laughing, but his jokes were so bad I only groaned.)

After finding a ley line, I then began following it. Unfortunately, they don't adjust course to help searchers navigate around sheer rock walls or through thick berry brambles. It took a while to finally reconnect to the ley line in a space with snow. But I found it, celebrated, and collected some (and celebrated again because who couldn't use a bit of victory dance in their life? However, victory speeches to phantom crowds of grateful townspeople saved from marauding hordes don't count!)

With the absolutely necessary reagent collected, I decided to look around and see if more potion ingredients were close by. Which is how I noticed a cave. It was very nondescript on the face of it. But quite comfortable and cozy inside with mosses growing at the cave mouth and on the floor. Which helps explain why a lost sheep might hunker down in it.

It "baaa'ed". I said, "Hello." And things progressed from there. Mostly due to MouseEye's ability to speak... what? Everything? Sheep, for sure. Anyway, it became pretty clear that the sheep didn't belong here. It wasn't sure where exactly it did belong, but it was able to give us a clue or two as to where to go. At least initially. And that was near the mountain, but a different face of it. We had a walk to get this sheep returned. I did have a bit of a quandary - return the sheep or get back to Whacky Roger. The sheep won out.

We picked our way along the side of Moonbreaker Mountain. There were animal paths that made things easier (when they existed and headed in roughly the supposed right way). And there were some places that were more... I don't want to say "precarious"... but there were places that guaranteed the sheep hadn't come through there. 

At one point we came across a large Gull-Drake nest. The birds weren't amused. Especially when I helped myself to bits of their nest (not structurally important bits!) and a bit of guano that was holding it together. They cried, swooped, pooped on (not collectable, unfortunately), and pecked at us. Thankfully it was more to scare than to injure. I thanked them and left (although I don't think they accepted my appreciation). 

As we made our way, the sheep had this amazing ability to find Candy Rock. And eat it. All of it. After it'd eaten the fourth lump, I began to worry it'd go into some sort of diabetic shock. How could it eat all that sweet? It was... ugh! And it would've been nice if it would leave one piece for me. (It did. Eventually. I decided to hide it deeper in a pocket than I usually put reagents because there was no telling if Sheepy would suddenly get hungry for my piece.) Clearly, with this sheep's ability to eat Candy Rock, it hadn't passed through this path. And maybe the sheep had been in a diabetic coma in that cave for a while. Maybe?

We did eventually spot a farm sitting in a lush valley. Shortly after, we heard sheep calls and sheep dogs. The sheep I was guiding no longer needed a guide  - it took off like a shot, glad to recognize its home. It took me longer to get there.

As I got closer, a few children ran out to meet me. "Did you find Gerty?", "What's your name?", "Mah!!!" were a few things yelled out. As I walked towards the main house, the children followed me and continued to yell out questions. 

A middle-aged woman emerged from the house, wiping her hands on an apron. "Greetings. Am I hearing correctly that you've brought our fool runaway sheep home?"

I said I had and that I'd found her in a Moonbreaker Mountain cave. 

"Is that a fact? I wonder what she was doing up there?"

I told her I suspected it was for Candy Rock.

"Hmm. Sounds like her. Anyway, my thanks for the service. Do you live locally? I don't believe I recognize you."

"I'm Mistress Sweetwater, the new witch near High Rannoc."

"Are you? Well, it's getting late enough that you shouldn't be travelling back. You'll twist an ankle or worse up there. You'll stay with us the night and can head back safely when the sun's up tomorrow."

I started to refuse, but she insisted. "Don't fret for room or board - we've plenty enough of both. Have to, what with all the little ones. And it's what we've always done for the High Rannoc witch."

"Oh! You knew the old witch?"

"Sure we did. Didn't come often but it was a joy to have her stay."

I was given an honour guard (one child was assigned to show me. The others came and helped) to see me to a bedroom (where I'd be sleeping with the girls) so I could clean up before supper. 

It was tasty and there was plenty. And by plenty, I don't simply mean the food. The whole family (including the father and a couple of older boys who'd been working in the fields) were excited, happy, and laughing. I think my presence was an excuse to have a bit of a party. 

After the meal and associated clean-up (I insisted that I help), we talked and sang and danced. 

Somewhere in all that I found out their family name is Bleater. I guessed sheep farming had been part of the family tradition for a long time!

Also somewhere in there, I was introduced to a song they liked to make up for guests. Apparently the old witch loved it and would come armed with a verse or two. It starts like this:

She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes (when she comes)

She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes (when she comes)

She'll be coming round the mountain

She'll be coming round the mountain

She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes (when she comes)

The she meaning me. 

The next verse was:

She'll be bringing back our Girty when she comes (when she comes)

(I'm sure you get the idea that it repeats just like the first stanza.)

And so on. 

I tried to make up a good line for the song. My creativity was "aided" with a nip (or two) or something very apple-y, very yummy, and very burn-y when swallowed! So I sang:

She'll be carrying a mouse-y when she comes (when she comes)

All eyes turned towards me when I sang that. Partly in a bit of shock, but mostly because MouseEye, the always-watchful, the never-seen, the little-trickster, was dancing on top of my head. I think I'd had enough of whatever it was for the both of us.

It was a delightful night. And overnight was... unusual... given that there were several of us all sleeping together in the same bed. Between the long day, the celebrations, and everything, I fell asleep right away. 

I was told by one of the young girls that I snored. But she said that it was funny to hear, so it was ok. 

One early, filling breakfast later, I was ready to go. Mrs. Bleater handed me a small pot of something sweet (it would keep just fine for use in my potion. She insisted on contributing to the potion since that was the original reason I'd been on the mountain in the first place). I bid them farewell and headed out.

It didn't take anywhere near as long to return as it had to get there - not trying to find and follow ley lines can save huge amounts of time! But it was mid-day when I got back to my cottage. To the peace, the quiet, and the grunts of satisfaction from skewering imagined vanquished foes.

I let him continue with his training session, I guess it'd be called, as I prepped and brewed the potion. It took seconds to mix the crushed rose hip seeds with the Glittersnow (quite melted now, but still effective), and the added sweet from the Bleaters.

My warrior prince patient would have licked it clean, I think. He seemed as eager for sweet as Girty was. Anyway, it was satisfying to see his bones finally settle down. 

The relief he was feeling was plain. His entire body relaxed. He even stopped stabbing everything around him. 

However, it was my turn to be uncomfortable. I knew he only charged ten silver for a protection trip and here I was about to charge him thirty for the potion plus four for each of the three doses of sweet. Forty-two silver. That wasn't a profitable trip for him at all!

Roger, to his credit, after he digested the cost, accepted it and paid. I encouraged him to let the doctor know about the additional cost of his healing and to add a term in his contract to include "damages to person". 

I also felt bad when he told me he'd slept the night beneath a tree. He said he felt uncomfortable sleeping in someone else's bed, especially a witch's bed. It took me a minute to digest that. But I gratefully accepted his sacrifice of personal comfort.

After he left, I got to work on the grounds. It wasn't that I'd not done anything on the land for weeks, but I wanted to get back to my usual routine. 

I finished up for the day and went into the cottage to make some food (nowhere near as tasty or as plentiful as last night's meal!), which is when I spotted a note on the mantlepiece. With a gentle glow coming from behind it.

That, I decided, would have to wait until tomorrow.

Spring, Week 5 - An Involuntary Foraging Trip

To hear the narration (and learn how I put the episode together), click below:

*****

 I can feel the season coming into its own. That first fresh breeze promising warmer weather and the heat of summer is long past. The feeling of Nature waking up is something I treasure. Funny how things can change so quickly - a change in residence, a definite increase in responsibilities, learning so much in such a short period of time. And yet there's other things that take their time - a change in season, the growth of a tree, even the movement of clouds - and just how easy it is to miss.

I feel like becoming a witch has made me even more aware of all these things, all these changes, fast and slow. And the really funny part is that the best way to notice these changes is to be still. While I can easily keep myself busy doing, I find I prefer not doing. It's been a bit of an exercise keeping my doing and not doing balanced, because both are needed. I find I do because not doing ends. And when my doing is done, I'm back to not doing.

It's a bit weird and I don't know if I'm making sense to anyone (other than to myself, of course. I think!) but it feels good to just sit and observe. My mind does wander while I'm sitting - whether in the cottage by the spirit house or outside in the increasingly warm and green spaces - but that's ok too. It floats along and wanders into all sorts of mental crevices, nooks, even the occasional rabbit hole, but eventually comes back and quiets a bit before dashing off again. Watching my mind meander around is like watching a restless child. It's ok, so long as it's home for meals!

It's been a busy couple of weeks. I've done my best to rest and recuperate, to keep myself happy and healthy, while also being at my best when the need arises. I've enough silver to make a new purchase - I'm sure Bob will be happy to see me and a full purse! Just kidding! Bob is a wonderful person and a smart shopkeeper. I hope to be viewed the same way someday.

Anyway - that will be something to do later this week. Or not. We'll see! For now, I'll sit and breathe. 

*****

At some point, something that I started feeling, grew in my awareness. Something not exactly wrong, but also not quite right.

"MouseEye?"

"Do you feel something too?"

There's nothing so affirming as someone else mentioning feeling something strange without prompting.

"Yeah. And idea what it is?"

"Mmm mmm."

"Do you want to scout around a bit? See if something's amiss?"

As an answer, he closed his eyes. Maybe he didn't say "Must I?" with words, but he yelled it with actions. So I shrugged and decided to walk around.

The sky was clear, the sun shining, nothing out of the ordinary. Except for two things: the bees were less active and sticking closer to the hive, and things felt a little gloomier than they should've. 

It was all subtle and easy to miss, but taken together, something was up. I decided to stay close to the cottage. Which wasn't the idea I'd had for... not today, but maybe tomorrow. I'd taken two weeks to clean up and rest up after difficult cases, which meant I'd spent less time than maybe I should've looking for reagents. And I had wanted to spend some time in Glimmerwood Grove. I guess that would have to wait.

Time passed. The gloom, if anything, deepened. I did my best to sit and be patient. Me pacing the cottage would do me no favours.

The day progressed and still... nothing. The sun set and still... nothing. The sun set? It... no... *sigh*... if a certain necromancer is coming to visit, at least we'll have that out of the way.

"MouseEye? You don't think it's the necromancer, do you?"

He stirred. "If it is, at least we're here. The cottage is safe."

Oh good. I'd've preferred something like, "No - it's not an immortal, blood-sucking, death-magic using creature whose only weaknesses are sunlight, wooden stakes to the heart, and raw garlic.

So we wait. And wait. And...

A knock. On the door.

"Mithtreth? Are you at home?"

Gulp.

MouseEye quickly ran behind the spirit house.

Great.

I called out in response - mostly to delay actually opening the door. "Igor? Is that you?"

"Yeth, mithtreth. The marthter hath need of your thervitheth."

A vampire needs a witch? Well... why not. As I reached for the door, MouseEye jumped on my shoulder, which caused me to jump out of my skin. As I recovered my composure, MouseEye said, "It's safe." Good. Although scaring the stuffing our of me... we could have skipped that bit!

I opened the door. Igor was standing, all three hands gathered together respectfully in front of him, his perpetual smile warm and reassuring. "Mithtreth, pleathe allow me to introduthe my Marthter, Count von Rannoc."

A figure standing behind Igor began to move forward. I expected black and red velvet, a cape, a large necklace depicting a wolf or a bat, all on a towering figure with a smile featuring prominent canines. What emerged was... less. He was pale - that fit the usual depictions. But he was short and stout, wearing a shirt and pants that you might see a labourer wear. There was nothing regal or scary here. Or at least in view. MouseEye's trembling kept me alert.

The Count walked up to me, took my hand, and kissed the back of it. "Count von Rannoc. Pleased to make your acquaintance. And please call me Richard. One's name disappears when buried by titles and honours. Tell me, what may I call you?"

I could feel a gentle push to give him my real name, that here was a friend who would safeguard secrets as if they were his own. So I took a second to shrug that off. "Sweet. Please call me Sweet."

He smiled. It was, for the most part, accepting. But for the remaining part, and echoed by his eyes, not happy that I'd given the answer I had.

I recovered my senses some more. "To what do I owe the visit, Richard?"

He recovered quickly too. "Would you mind if we sit down before I regale you with my tale of misfortune?"

I was getting comfortable with the situation. And that meant I didn't mind taking a minute to ask the cottage before answering. Count Richard might take offence but I was caring less and less. I focused on the cottage and mentally asked for permission. It was granted. So I let the vampire and his assistant in. The Count flashed a quick satisfied grin.

"Isn't it funny - sunlight is unhealthy for me but I can enjoy a lovely fire. Thank you for allowing me in." The Count was once again being charming. But I wasn't fooled. Something was going on.

"Please take a seat. May I offer you some tea?"

"Tea? Delighted."

"And for you, Igor?"

"Yeth, pleathe."

With the social niceties out of the way, it was time to find out what was going on. "You mentioned a tale of misfortune, Richard?"

He sipped and savoured before responding. "Wonderful cup of tea. Thank you. So yes - why I'm here. As you probably know, being a witch, that I am... differently alive than others. In addition, my interest in exploring the boundary between this world and the one where the deceased travel to requires the use of silver. Did you know of its qualities of calling forth the energies of the moon? Yes? Yes - of course you do. Well - what no one mentions in any of the tomes I have - have you been in my library? You've seen my collection of books - that silver can irritate, not just skin, but the entire body and, what's more, the esoteric body. So I have a need for a cure. And that brings me to you."

On the surface, it sounded good. Sincere. Someone needing help. But couldn't that help come from, oh I don't know, the Igor with the fully stocked laboratory? So I called him on it.

"It'th unfortunate, but my thkillth are thentered around necromatic artth, not allergieth." With a slight, perhaps even disapproving, glance at the Count.

"Igor", the Count replied, "We've discussed this. This is not an allergy. It is a chronic condition from over-exposure. As you well know from the summoning of Askew." Then he glanced at me. "Ah, sorry - you wouldn't know. Askew is a minor demon. I consulted it in regards to my affliction and it assured me you could effect a cure."

Right. "Please enjoy some more tea. I'll be just a second." I got up and began consulting the old witch's book. As I came up with a plan, I heard the Count remark on my spirit house. "It's lovely how you honour... your ancestors? the grounds? What does this symbolize?"

Without thinking, I replied, "The cottage and grounds."

"Is that so?"

I cringed. I'm not sure what he's hunting for, but apparently he just found something helpful.

I turned my mind back to the condition at hand. Silver Burn. Definitely a thing. And not an easy nut to crack. Thankfully I already had one reagent, Ghost Goo. For the other, I had a few choices... I think I muttered Glimmerwood Grove as I read.

"Will your hunt for reagents take you  to the Grove?" I heard the Count ask.

I just nodded.

He paused for a minute. "Lovely place. Full of reagents."

I nodded again.

"And I'm in no hurry for a cure."

Did he know I had been thinking of going there? Was that demon the one who told him? "I had been thinking about a reagent gathering... expedition is far too grand a word. But..."

"Wonderful! That sounds productive. And relaxing. I heartily endorse it!"

"Yes, but..."

"And I insist you take Igor with you. He'll cook and clean for you - whatever you want. Isn't that right, Igor?"

Was there a pause? "Yeth, Marthter. Of courthe, Marthter."

The Count smiled. "Wonderful! It's all decided. And of course you don't want to wait, do you, Sweet?"

I just nodded again.

"Right. Gather your things and off you go."

And I did and I did. It was only after I was halfway there that I realized I hadn't actually wanted to leave at all. I was so frustrated, angry, disgusted in myself, just... I wanted to scream. But I also wanted to talk to MouseEye, but with Igor around, I knew MouseEye wouldn't appear. So I stopped to go to the bathroom, asked Igor to keep going, and said I'd catch up in a minute.

I squatted down in a place so I could make sure Igor kept on walking. After I made sure he wasn't around, I whispered, "MouseEye?"

"Clever using the 'I need to pee trick'."

"Thanks. It helps to know I've got my brain back. I felt like I was pushed out the door."

"Um... you were. But not by the vampire. I think the cottage got you out of there."

That stopped me. "Seriously?"

"He wanted in and the cottage let it happen. I think whatever happens there, it'll be safer for you out here. Focus on the potion - he wasn't making that up. And when you feel ready, then we'll head back. Hopefully, things will be resolved. And in our favour."

Note to self - all this hoping that things will work out is for the birds. Or the snails. For something and/or someone who's not me. I'd prefer certainty, especially here and now!

Anyway, I finished my fake pee stop and caught up to Igor. He didn't look happy. So I asked if there was anything the matter.

"Kind of you to athk. I... I don't with to thay anything againtht the marthter, but hith conduct lately hath been in violation of the Igor Code. And thith excurthion, begging your forgiveneth, ith right up there. I'm thuppothed to care for mathter'th needth, not thimply to enthure you..."

"That I what, Igor? Come to harm?"

"Oh! No, mithtreth! No harm ith to come to you."

"Then why are you here?"

"Loothe lipth think thipth. I've already thaid too much."

"He wanted into the cottage. He's looking for something."

"The entity that ith the cottage and groundth. He became aware of it with the latht witch."

"And so...?"

"Tho what? You'll cure him of hith allergy. Huh! Allergy! What thelf-rethpecting necromancer hath a thilver allergy? Thameful."

"I will?"

"Yeth, mithtreth, you will. Not becauthe of any threat, but becauthe, in your heart of heartth, you heal. It'th what you want to do. And I'm here to help you do it. Jutht... maybe take longer than thtrickly nethethary."

"And yet you don't want to help me. You want to help the Count."

"That, mithtreth, ith my burden to bear. For now."

And that was that. Whether I liked it or not, I had Igor helping me find reagents in the forest while a vampiric necromancer attacked my cottage. And my cottage, by the way, wanted me out of the way. I had no idea how I was supposed to feel about all of this. So I decided to get to work gathering so that when I felt the time was right, I'd be able to go home right away.

"Okay, Igor. I can't say I understand any of what's going on, but you are right that I'm not interested in whatever magical battle of wits is happening. So I'll focus on what I can do, which is focus on making potions and all that involves, and let everything play out as it will. I'm going to trust that everything works out ok. So let's get to the Grove and set up camp. It's getting late and I'd really like to hit the ground running tomorrow. How's that sound?"

"Like a well thought-out plan, mithtreth."

*****

That plan worked well for us. Although there was also a fair bit of luck involved. You see, we finished making our way to the Grove, the trees all rising high over our heads, branches outstretched, nighttime animals making their nighttime noises (funny how scary they can be heading to the Hollow and yet so soothing in the Grove). We found a clearing and set up camp by a couple of big rocks that were the start of a couple of low ridges, forming a bit of a valley. It was tight, that valley, so we set up at the mouth of it. It also allowed for some fresher air. Inside the valley, the air didn't move much and had an unpleasant earthy smell. And that's where we spent the first night.

When we awoke the next morning, we decided to move camp. Quietly. Because the "rocks" we camped next to weren't rocks. They were feet. Giant's feet. I don't know how we avoided being trampled or otherwise rolled on. Thankfully the giant is a heavy sleeper. 

Once we had the new camp set up, I went back and carefully picked Foot Fungus - a powerful reagent. I tried to not sneeze and was almost successful. But the giant slept through it all.

I do not look forward to contending with an awake giant. Fingers crossed I never do.

Over the course of a couple of days, we gathered pretty much everything I wanted to bring back.

We put our new camp near a copse of Nurse Willows, where I harvested Surgeon Sap. Apart from being a convenient camp for ourselves, we also got to watch as a couple of animals, wounded from, I suppose, territorial fights, battles with predators, and who knows what else, came to lick the trees and effect their own healing.

One of these animals was a boar. It was in really bad shape, not even being able to reach a tree - it just laid down a few metres away, looked piteously at them, and whimpered. I was able to gather a bit of additional sap and cautiously fed it. As it lay there waiting for the sap to work its magic, I gave it some pets and was rewarded with some of its hair. Hair of the Boar was another reagent I'd hoped to gather.

Near a quick-flowing creek, as we gathered water, there was some splashing as something tried to avoid us. At first I thought it was a fish. Turns out it was Scramble Bramble. If it hadn't been for its trying to get away, I never would've known it was there. I managed to catch a bit.

On a prior trip here, I'd encountered some pixies near some Songberry bushes. I headed that way again. The pixies were once again gathered there. It was a bit awkward, with plenty of not-very-quiet mutterings about how I'd cheated at Caber Toss. I tried to put on a friendly face. I guess it worked because I was able to talk to a pixie who was, on the face of it, personable. Or should that be pixieable? How about we go with civil.

With her help, we gathered Songberries (they're just so good for mood). And she directed me to Shieldcap - several pixies were trying on different mushroom caps for fit and comfort. And colour - getting the right shade was a big part of the discussions there.

I was about to head back to the pixie gathering when I heard the strangest rhythm: tap, tap, shuffle, tap, tap, pounce, croak. Peering around a few trees, I saw these weird pink toads, gathered in small groups, dancing. It was funny to watch, that they did it with such solemnity, I had to guess it was some sort of... I don't know... courtship dance maybe? Like trying to impress the other toads with their... big jumps maybe? Dancing skills? Ability to get down and boogie? But a serious boogie. Anyway, I watched for a good long while. At some point it finished and I was able to collect mucous off overhanging leaves and (and I can't believe I'm writing this) their poop. Just call me the Princess Toad Latrine Girl.

I did eventually return to the pixies. I noticed everyone was drinking something warm and rich-smelling. When I asked what it was, I was told it was Coffee Cap, that it grew over that-a-way and that I could go get some now since it was time for me to leave. Although I'd hoped to get some more Rat Spit before heading off, I suppose I should be happy that they merely told me to leave rather than curse me. So... Coffee Cap - yes! Rat Spit - no!

Like I said, it'd been a couple of days. They were good, productive days. Igor kept the camp running well, and in fact is quite the chef. I don't think I've eaten as well, out here in the forest, as I have in my time in the cottage. "Ah well, you know", he said when I complemented his culinary skills, "it'th alwayth thatithfying to cook for more than jutht yourthelf. The marthter, you know, doethn't eat anything. He provideth for hith own nourithment. Tho I'm having fun cooking for thuch an apprethiative mithtress."

At some point, after another filling meal, I found myself asking about the old witch's interest with the Count. "It wathn't thomething I wath privy to. It ith a bit... odd... to theek out the company of a vampire, or a necromanther, or both, but thee did. The marthter, I think he enjoyed the company. The dead, near-dead, theudo-dead, thorta-dead... did you know necromanthers have fifty words for dead and death?... anyway, they aren't much for converthation. And it'th above my thtathion to thpeak to the marthter. Tho I think he got lonely on occathion. He may even have lotht a bit of hith pathion for the work. Thuth my fear he'd abandon it and leave with her. Tho along with hiding her letter to him, I kept giving her a Travel Guide to the The Imperial Thity. I hope thee's enjoying it there."

Well... that explains a lot.

I was going to ask more about that when I got a feeling. A request to return. And not to wait. I took a minute to pretend to relieve myself so that I could ask MouseEye if he'd felt anything. He had.

I strode confidently to Igor and let him know that I felt it was time to head home. He took one look at me, said, "Yeth, Mithtrith", and we quickly packed up and started back.

Just like our walk out, it was dark heading back. I was certainly walking faster heading back home, or what I hope was still my home, partly out of a desire to be in the cottage again and partly out of trepidation of what I'd find.

The cottage was quiet and still as we approached. Light did glow out from the windows and smoke and the occasional ember rose out of the chimney. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

I opened the door and found everything as I'd left it. Nothing broken, no mess, no disorder. Sitting at my table was the vampire, Richard, looking at me. Not violent. Not angry. No animosity showing. Just... abashed, I think. Bemused. Even sheepish. "Good evening, Mistress Sweetwater. I owe you an apology and an explanation.

"First, the explanation. When I became aware of the spirit that resides here, and I believe you've begun calling it also "not here", I felt I had to explore the phenomenon. What I didn't realize was the extent of that energy, nor of its desire for its privacy and ability to defend itself from unwanted intrusion. I've already tendered my apologies to the entity, and now I do so to you. Frankly, I had thought you, an unassuming girl, wouldn't be aware of the energies and that I could take advantage of that. I was wrong. I'm truly sorry to have disturbed you and this place."

"And why are you telling me this?"

"Because that was part of the agreement I made to cease hostilities. To be blunt, in the battle of wills between myself and the entity, I was suddenly beset by the most noxious, odious, little creatures I've ever encountered. Vicious little things."

"They're probably the result of poisoning the doctor."

"Really? Comeuppance too, in the mix. Fitting, I suppose."

I just stood there, watching, listening, processing.

"However, I would be most obliged if you could prepare that cure for Silver Burn. I have money."

I glanced at the spirit house. MouseEye peered out from it, all smiles. He gave me a sign that it was ok to brew it up. It meant having Richard in my house for longer than I wanted, but I did quickly brew it.

He applied it to his hands, then drank the rest. A look of relief crossed his face. "Thank you. Here's your fee. And please know I meant you no harm." And with that, he headed for the door. Before he left, he looked over his shoulder. "I cleaned up as best as I could. Would you like Igor to give it a once-over? The mess those little creatures can spread is... nauseatingly impressive. Please excuse any mess I missed. Now, allow me to bid you adieu."

I sat down in my chair and looked up at the spirit house again. "Will you tell me what happened?" The feeling I got back was one of comfort, security, warmth. The feelings a child might get from a parent who won't share the events of the day but gives reassurance instead.

I sat and watched the fire slowly die down to embers, then out, leaving me in the comforting dark of the cottage.