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.

Vol 1 (Narration Only, Episodes 0 - 6, aka Prologue - Week 3 Rest) is Now Live!

 Hey there,

For anyone wanting to listen to the narrated stories (and without all the explanations and whatnot), this video is for you. Nearly two hours of storytelling that covers the Prologue through the Week 3 Rest Episode is now live. I hope you enjoy!

Also Spring, Week 4 - A Poem For Pip

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

*****

 Two days. If anyone ever asks if things can get messy working as a witch, not only is the answer "yes" but I know how messy. The answer is two days worth of scrubbing, soaking, mopping, scraping, and airing. 

Vomit people, while, I'm sure, are quite lovely, they are tremendously messy. And stinky. 

As predicted, the cleaning worked my anger out over the doctor's atrocious attitude to my work and the cures, both of them, I effected. 

Ok - maybe not completely over it, but at least I can think of him as a difficult patient and not as someone to be shunned. No doubt, at some point, a patient of mine will reject my efforts or not have a cure within their own timeframe and go to the doctor instead. I just hope they're prepared to have their urine examined. 

I have to admit that that still makes me chuckle. Like that's going to tell you anything! And the bleeding thing! Keep more of your bits on the inside, I say, rather than feed leeches. Oh well - each to their own.

Anyway, it feels good to finally have things clean and smelling good again. I realize it's part of the job, dealing with magical maladies, but still! Maybe I could ask for a cleanup fee.

Or not. After all, I still have a mess I'll need to handle at some point in the future - that meeting I promised that weird, three-armed Igor and his "marthter", the vampiric necromancer. Named "Count". Although that's probably just his title, just like mine's "witch". I wonder what his real name is. Probably best not to ask - he'd want me to reveal mine and that's just not going to happen.

I didn't give a specific date for it. Maybe that would delay it indefinitely? Watch - some day, an hour or two after sundown, they'll show up on the grounds. 

Best not to think that again and tempt fate! However, if it happens, I'll just deal with it. Of course, it's easier being brave here where the cottage and grounds are either living things or connected to something far more powerful than I can comprehend. 

Trusting in that, I go to bed, exhausted from my cleaning efforts, wiped from working through my emotions, but enjoying the smell of clean...

*****

... and wake to the morning smells of Spring on the breeze, the sun just rising, the familiar sounds outside, the enfolding warmth of a slept-in bed whose tendrils gently try to lull me back to sleep. In a word, normal.

It's tempting to close my eyes again and give myself a sleep-in day, but a thought struck me regarding my reagents and I'm looking forward to put it into practice. And that, while I might be able to do while lying in bed, head on pillow, warm blanket wrapped around me against the morning chill... zzzzz... 

*****

... with the sun shining down, the day well underway... I guess I needed that extra doze!

But enough sleeping, sleepy-head! Time to get doing!

And so I did. And with my morning routine out of the way, it's time to... what's that on the mantlepiece? A basket? How did a basket get there?

Did Dr. Know-It-All sneak in here and drop it off as an apology for being insufferable? I mean... it'd be nice if that were the case and he was truly sorry and all, but how would he have gotten it in here without my knowing?

What a mystery! I suppose I should look for a note.

Oh! It's from Pip! This is a pleasant surprise! And there's something called Coffee Weed, a bit of honey, a bit of tea (her favourite), some Skeleton Dust, some Vampire Venom, and three chocolate chunk cookies!

Strange! I just dealt with an ailment using those last two!

Is it possible she's more here and less not here?

She likes asking questions (this time it's about ducks) so maybe I should ask something and see if she's experiencing the same things I am.

Ok - let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's first brew up her tea (and add the honey - sounds yummy!), and take things one step at a time.

Let's see... maybe a bit of a To Do List.

In no particular order:

1. Enjoy tea
2. Figure out how to divide up the cookies. The look delicious, so I bet others will enjoy them as much as I will
3. Catalogue my reagents, including this new one
4. Thank Pip properly

#1 is easy. Tick!

#2 - I'd like some cookie. They look so good! But I bet MouseEye would like some. And a piece should go into the spirit house. Ooh! As should a spot of this wonderful tea! So one for me, one for mouse-y, and then the house makes three. Tick!

#3 - I'm going to organize my reagents by what they cure, with a division in those lists for location. For instance, for Mood reagents, I currently have two. So I'll list them on the Mood page like this:

Mood

Wigfish - 3 stars - Meltwater Loch

Songberries - 1 star - Glimmerwood Grove

I figure the most important attributes of any reagent is what are its efficacies. So seeing that is a better way to organize a reagent list than most any other way. (Of course, this being totally untried, it may be a bunch of work that ends up being a waste, but I figure I'll try it, have a bit of fun as I do it - maybe enlist MouseEye's help - and see how it works out. Nothing ventured, nothing gained).

But before I do that, I need to focus properly on my note back to Pip. And to do that, I need to sip on some more tea, take a bite of this cookie (Oh my, it's so good!), and compose something appropriate.

I think I'll compose a bit of a poem. It's something I've been thinking about doing, so maybe I'll share my first one with her. And include a bit of Wild Rose since it's growing so nicely in its plot. Ok... to compose... some ideas... like being here but yet here and seeing the sky and wondering if we see the same thing. Hmmm...

The cloud that I see

White, fluffy, free

I wonder, can it be

that you see it too

Or is it only me?

It carries smiles

from me to you

across miles and miles

Hmmm... not bad!

And now, I think, I'm going to do not much. This witch needs her rest! 

Spring, Week 4 - Don't Interrupt Necromancers

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

*****

 I've gotten into the habit of taking a bit of time daily to sit quietly in the cottage and looking up at the spirit house I built. And improved. It no longer resembles a lean-to. I won't say it's a proper house, but I'm happy to call what it is currently a house. Or at least resembles a house. Whatever. It's good enough for now.

As to why I do this... it's partly because it feels right and respectful. After three weeks of banging around, not really knowing what I was doing, but insisting I did know - to the point of nearly dismissing MouseEye - I felt a need to reset a bit. The last few days were a good start and I'm hoping to continue.

Another reason is I keep wondering if another letter, maybe from my new bestie Pip, who I'll probably never meet, or maybe from someone else, might arrive at any time. I've never been one for friendships but for the life of me I don't understand why I'm so fixated on watching the mail portal. Maybe I'm waiting to see what happens if someone sends something really big.

As I sit, my mind does love to wonder. Endless speculating. Like that idea of a big letter trying to squeeze out from behind my spirit house. But another topic that I've begun to ruminate on is the ramifications of not being able to treat someone, or of having them leaving dissatisfied because I wasn't able to effect a cure or do so quickly enough. To be honest, I've been harbouring these thoughts for a little while. Private speculation. But today I saw MouseEye was awake and around, so I asked.

He twitched his whiskers (it's so cute when he does that), then shrugged. "I know there's a doctor, of sorts, in High Rannoc. I guess they'd go to him."

"Of sorts?"

He shrugged again. "Mmhmm."

I stopped myself from asking why he gave a qualified answer. If MouseEye wanted to share, he would. So I internally shrugged back. And hit on another topic.

There's no doubt there's an underlying spirit or wisdom existing on the grounds. Or in the grounds. The wild rose recovering nearly instantly from being trampled. The bees so quickly becoming part of the property. Maybe even my ability, as an untrained novice, to not only recognize but safely collect reagents and then brew them into potions that are effective. Imagine someone using pine bark and bat guano to create a potion that would decrease flatulence! But that's how I feel. Yes - I have the book and something definitely happened when I read it. A knowledge transference of sorts.

Is the old witch somehow still here? Here yet not here? Here, inside me? I can't say I'm comfortable at all with that thought. However, I don't feel like there's someone inside me or with me. I feel like my thoughts are mine and not someone else's. But definitely something to keep in mind. Not everything is as it seems.

The rest of the day progressed normally - cooking, cleaning, reading the book, and trying to teach myself about places I haven't been to yet - all the chores that keep a place organized and functioning well. And then, tired, I went to bed. Only to be woken by MouseEye with a cryptic message, "Someone needing your help is coming."

It took me a second to react, but I did shake off the cobwebs, got dressed, and just started stoking the fire when a wild-eyed man pounded on my door. As I opened it, he fell forward into my living space, all the while looking over his shoulder, like he was being chased. His hoarse screams, or more like a rough, breathy, very muted pseudo-screams, were just creepy. What had he seen that had induced such fear and panic?

That thought was interrupted by his vomiting onto my floor. Had it been a normal spilling of stomach yuck, that would have been one thing. But when the vomit, instead of simply launching from mouth to floor, formed itself into a little dancing figure that then ran out my door into the night, that was something else. If only it hadn't left little vomit footsteps on my formerly clean floor.

Anyway, out the door the vomit-man went, I stood bemused, and the hoarse man hoarsely screamed again and tried to hide under my bed. Clearly, I needed more light - maybe that'd stop the fear reaction. Maybe?

A few minutes later, the fire was high enough to provide decent light. The intermittent screaming hadn't stopped, nor had the intermittent vomiting. He'd let loose twice more - one had become a small four-legged creature and hid in my cauldron (ewww!) and the other had squeezed under my bed and, I swear this is true, was making faces at the man.

With the light up, I could see the panicked white of his eyes, his vivid green skin, and incredibly white hair. Which didn't make sense - his body hair (eyebrows, arm hair, facial hair shadow) were all black. Something had scared him half-to-death. Which helped explain the screaming.

But green skin? Vomiting magical vomit? Not a fear reaction. That was more like a poisoning.

Dealing with the poisoning was the priority - without prompt treatment, things could become... complicated. Who knows just what it was that someone had brewed, or that he'd eaten, or whatever, and what could result. But there was no doubt, what with the animated vomitus, that he'd been poisoned and it had a magical element.

As another vomit creature ran across the floor, I bent down and tried to let my patient know I was going to gather reagents to deal with the poisoning, and that we'd tackle the fear reaction next. Maybe dealing with the poisoning would deal with the other too? I was hoping.

I gathered up my stuff and headed off. At night. To Hero's Hollow. 

Ah man.

Yup - my favourite place in the whole world and I get to go there in the dark.

I tried to be brave. I tried to look up at the stars and I tried to believe they would look out for me. I tried to remember that the spirit of the cottage hadn't steered me wrong yet, even when I was out of line. And I knew MouseEye would be with me and would do what he could to keep me safe.

Despite all my worry, all my alerting to every shriek and call and snap and more - the thousand sounds the wilderness makes at night - I got to the dungeon safely. The hardest part of the night so far, getting to the Hollow, was past. Now to navigate the now hardest part - the dungeon itself. One more round of thoughts towards asking for help and guidance from the cottage, the stars, MouseEye, whomever was bothering to listen, and then I entered.

The good part about going to the Hollow at night is that your eyes don't need to adjust. You go from outdoor dark to indoor dark, which is a different quality of dark, the indoor one being more complete, but dark to dark is fairly easy.

I relaxed and made my way into the dungeon. I knew I had to work quickly so I made my way to where I hoped I could find Coldrust. It's a blue rust that feeds on magical artifacts. I was hoping I could find that type of thing in the armoury spaces. A rusty magical weapon would be perfect for my uses.

As I walked quickly, I started to hear other footsteps. They weren't my steps echoing along corridors. It sounded like a small army. But an army in thick socks. The chest!

I spotted it as it turned a corner and ran towards me. It was a happy run, an eager run, a run that hoped I had a treat in my pocket. Feeling far more confident than I had a right to, I patted my pocket and felt a treat there. Thank you, MouseEye. I didn't say it aloud, but I heard him from close by, "You're welcome."

I gave the treat. It seemed happy. So I took an extra minute to give it some pets and scrunches. I think it purred. So I told it I was here to gather some things and asked if it wanted to help. I think it yapped happily. So we all headed for the armory, where we did indeed find Coldrust. One down!

Next up was Flood Bulb. There are two places where you can generally find it - traps that are based on water, and in canteens - nothing stores water more efficiently. And so despite asking the chest for help and prepared to go wherever it led, I expected we'd go to the kitchens. And we did. It did require some gentle handling - you absolutely don't want a bulb to burst inside your pack!

As we were leaving the kitchens and heading through the cafeteria/mess hall, I spotted another lucky find - Ghost Goo. Apparently a ghost was spending a lot of time in and around where everyone ate. Maybe it was the ghost of one of the only people ever to have lived that liked mass-produced food. A slop-loving memory? Anyway, for whatever reason, a ghost was leaving bits of goo all over the tables. And so I grabbed it gratefully.

We headed back to the dungeon's entrance, the chest padding along with MouseEye and I. One more set of scrunches and I was heading back to the cottage.

Oh, the reek as I approached. I almost wished it smelled like bog goblin again. Vomit people ran out to meet me. Vomit creatures were running amok in the cottage. It was nasty. Pandemonium. Unbearable. "Sir? You have to get your vomit under control! I can't brew in these conditions!"

He pointed out the door, did another hoarse scream, and out they went. I mopped up the necessary equipment and started prepping. I tossed the Coldrust and Flood Bulb into the mortar and started working them. The water that flooded out of the bulb was more than plenty for my potion - the water that flowed onto my floor would help me clean it later. 

My patient drank the offered cup. His skin seemed to lighten slightly from a deep green to a more faded one. And, thankfully, he stopped vomiting. As a side note, I think the vomit people found an abandoned gopher tunnel system. I wish them the best.

Anyway... with that crisis dealt with, it was time to deal with the root cause of all this. The potion, thankfully, gave my patient enough voice back that, while difficult to understand, was in the end understandable.

Not that what he told me was at all sensical. While the number of shrieks decreased, and the vomiting stopped, the few words he was able to utter between his screams said only something about a necromancer. 

Right. So... someone in the local area is doing magic and working with death? Ok - it's easy to see how seeing something, especially if you're unprepared to see something, could give you a terrible fright. 

And the funny (strange, not haha) bit is that the reagents I need to deal with this are in Hero's Hollow (oh yay! Another trip to that warm and fuzzy place) and have to do with necromancy: Vampire Venom and Skeleton Dust.

Or maybe I could simply brew something up involving pine bark and bat guano? Tempting but... no.

As I got ready to head out again, I kept an eye on my patient. Still wild-eyed frightened? Yup. Still intermittently screaming? Yup. But, for now anyway, not giving the appearance of being ready to bolt out the door.

"Sir? It's going to take me a bit of time to address your fright. Please know you are safe here. There's plenty of wood to keep the fire going, keep the cottage warm, and provide lots of light. When I get back, we'll have you feeling calmer, ok?" I got a nod. Good enough. And off I went.

The sun was just rising. The last bits of low-lying mist were just starting to burn off, revealing dew-draped undergrowth. The land looked magical!

I must admit my thoughts drifted to the whole concept of magic. I suppose, for example, the work I do could be seen by some as magic, despite my not adding any sort of supernatural anything to my potions. If reagents carry power, then I'll happily use that power, but as far as waving a magic wand over a bubbling cauldron to create some sort of malevolent miasma that would swallow High Rannoc just wasn't in the cards. Same with a healing vapour that nightly would take away people's hurts, wounds... even nightmares. 

Imagine that - a vapour that would help people feel better and healthier. I wondered if something like that could be created. Hmmm... interesting. But feels more like magical meddling than healing people who ask for help with bespoke potions. 

Before I knew it, I was back at the Hollows. Now to work through the new challenge of collecting harder reagents. Time to find some vampires. Ugh. Which meant exploring deeper into the dungeon. 

I made my way deeper in than I'd gone before. I half-hoped the walking chest would show up - that would have been comforting. Maybe if I asked...?

"MouseEye?"

"Mmhmm."

I tried to keep the quaver from my voice. "You wouldn't happen to know where a vampire is, would you?"

"Mmhmm."

I love it when he's so forthcoming. In a dark, scary, and frankly horrible place. "Are we going the right way?"

"Mmhmm."

Both good and bad news in my book, both involving getting closer and closer to a vampire. I asked MouseEye to keep me on track. And that track felt darker, more musty, and quite dank.

Why can't I spend more time in more pleasant places? Glimmerwood Grove is so lovely. The trees, the wildflowers, the...

"Greetingth Mithtrith."

The voice scared the beejeebers out of me. It was behind me - which in how in the world did anyone get behind me? - but at the same time the voice was quite calm. Almost welcoming. I froze, closed my eyes tightly (somehow that was supposed to bolster my nonexistent courage), and turned around slowly. Standing there was a figure. The lack of light made seeing details, like the person's face, difficult, but the bearing seemed... ok? I think a smile was on their face. And I say "their" because the voice gave nothing away about its sex. All I was getting was polite patient curiosity. 

I figured I needed to respond at some point. "Um... hi."

"Greetingth again, Mithtrith. If I may obtherve, you appear leth lotht than unthertin. May I help you in thome way?"

Ummm... sure. Why not. What could go wrong? Even if MouseEye isn't visible, I know he's close. "Yeth... oh, sorry - yes." They didn't react at all to my list slip. "I'm looking for a vampire."

That caused, I think, eyebrows to rise. "It'th not common that thomeone theeks out a vampire. May I enquire your reathonth for doing tho?"

I saw no harm in saying I needed a vampire's venom.

"Ah! Tho you are a witch, then? Exthellent! Follow me, pleathe."

We walked down another corridor - I'm not sure if I would've spotted it on my own - and arrived at a small room. It had a small table with a couple of chairs in it, a candle that provided a bit of light, and an open book lay in front.

"Pleathe excuthe the meth. Marthter and I don't get many vithiterth. Have a theat."

I sat down slowly. Maybe even warily. Marthter?

"I don't mean to be rude, but who is your master?"

The figure came into the candlelight.

Note to self - if my patient saw this person unexpectedly, that could explain their fright. While some features spoke to good-natured friendliness, like the shy smile and gentle eyes, others were less so. The mass of scars and stitching all about their face and head, the third arm sticking out from their chest, and the small knife in that hand. My eyes glued onto it.

He looked down. "Oh! My apologieth! I feel motht comfortable with a thcapel in my hand. Thith one, however, ithn't for thurgery - it'th my dip pen." He set it down on the table then he sat in the other chair. It felt menacing but he seemed to be ignoring it.

"My marthter ith a vampire. He'th currently thleeping. It'th been a buthy night and, of courthe, it'th now day. Tho, what ith it you need venom for?"

I told him - definitely a him - about my patient. The scarred man laughed. I think it was good-natured. 

"Thorry, but you mutht thee the humour here. Your pathient came down latht night. He wanted a reanimated thkeleton, for thome reathon. Thcared my marthter motht terribly - he jutht popped out of nowhere, interrupted a delicate piethe of magical work. Which cauthed a rather dramatic meth, I'm telling you. And that thcared all of uth. Marthter had to thcramble to keep the world from imploding, the man fled into my laboratory, and I had to run after him. Marthter, of courths, would want him punithed, tho I got him to drink a pothon that would eventually turn him into a zombie. Temporarily, of courthe. Anyway, marthter called for me, tho I had to leave the man to hith own devitheth. Apparently, he ran to you. And now you wish to cure him."

Gulp. "I hope that's ok with you."

"Oh, thertanly. I bear him no ill will and like I thaid, marthter only wanted him punithed for a little while. Let'th thee... for a fright, you'll altho want thkeleton dutht. Correct?"

I could only nod.

"Wonderful. Let me take you to where you can wait. It'th the library, of thorts. I think you'll find thingth of interetht there."

The library turned out to be quite the space. The room was big and airy, book shelves lined the walls, and a ready supply of candles meant it would be easy to browse the volumes. As I started to look around, the scarred servant asked, "What happened to the old witch? Do you know?"

"No, sorry. I just moved in recently. All there was about her whereabouts was a few lines in a book that she'd written and had open. It said that if I was reading it, she must be either missing or dead."

"Hmmm... pity. Marthter quite liked her. Oh well." And with that, he was off. And I can't say that I paid much attention to his leaving. The books were drawing my attention. The range of topics was so diverse - how to reanimate anything from an ant to a dragon and all manner of creatures in between, getting answers to questions by calling on the spirits of the dead, creating loyal servants through the use of potions, and more. 

Creating loyal servants? Using potions? Um... note to self - politely decline any and all offers of beverages.

I don't know how long I'd been in there. I was just transfixed. This place was amazing. So full of secrets, knowledge, ancient wisdom... and then I discovered a letter tucked in an unassuming spot between two large volumes detailing the life and times of assorted necromancers from the distant past. It wasn't sealed or anything, so I opened it. I couldn't help but notice that the handwriting was familiar. Very familiar. It was the same as in my book. The old witch had written it. I sat down and read the whole thing.

The salutation read "My dearest Count". The letter itself was a goodbye. That she was going to be heading for someplace called "The Imperial City" and that that trip was bound to be long, dangerous, but entirely necessary - "...for reasons we've discussed at length and don't bear repeating again." But it was also an invitation - that the Count should go to her before she left in the morning. She promised a delightful night by way of goodbye but that she also understood that accepting that invitation could be too much to ask for. And something about her ambivalence about traveling with Humphrey. I gathered Humphrey was a pet. A pet cow.

Huh. A cow? As a pet? That was weird.

"Ah! I thee you found her letter."

I felt blurry, fuzzy, just deep into all this reading. Unnaturally muddled.

"The old witch would visit the Hollow routinely. Found all thorth of excutheth to thtay. One time to give bootieth to the Mimic, another time to rethycle metal in the old prithon block. Alwayth vithiting, alwayth hoping the marthter would notithe her."

I just nodded while fighting off the cog fog. "And did he notice her?"

The scarred servant looked pained. "Yeth. Thee wath a terrible dithtraction. I feared he'd thtop her from leaving, or worthe, go with her! Tho I hid that letter. He thinkth thee abandoned him. Got him good and angry. Focuthed. And he very nearly completed hith experiment latht night."

I was recovering. "And nearly imploded the world."

He shrugged. "There are rithkth to what he doeth." Then he added, "If it maketh you feel any better, you'd never know that it'd happened. One second ok, the next second gone."

Uh huh. Don't argue with the servant of a necromancer. Get what you came for and get out. "Do you have the reagents you went to get for me?"

"Don't you want to thtay and read some more? The Marthter wath looking forward to talking to you. I'm brewing up a lovely tea."

Politely decline! "Oh! No, thank you. I really need to get back. Um... how long have I been in here?"

"Oh... not long."

"Oh! Well... maybe I could..." Which is when I spotted MouseEye sitting on a shelf behind the scarred servant gesticulating, and loudly gesticulating, if gestures could make noise, that I should leave. "... just take the reagents from you, with gratitude, and then head back."

He paused for a second, then, "The Igor Code requireth that I uphold an untholithited offer. But pleathe promithe that you'll pay uth a vithit thome other day."

I said I would. MouseEye grimaced but that seemed to be the only way to get my reagents and leave without further incident.

As we made our way back, I asked MouseEye about his reaction. "It's ok. You promised to visit both Igor and the vampire. Which means it'll have to be at night. When the Count's awake. But we can prepare adequately and keep you safe."

"But I thought it'd be ok. The old witch..."

"The old witch may or may not have been... manipulated. but the fact that she left of her own accord means she either wasn't magicked, or she figured out a way out of it. Anyway, it'll be fine." The comforting part of his message was dispelled with his mumbled, "I hope."

Great. Well, time later to worry about that. I had a panicked patient, probably impatient, waiting.

To his credit, he was still waiting at the cottage. White knuckles gripped the table, feet tapped, knees bounced, white hair practically frizzled with electricity. If I didn't know better, it looked like he'd eaten a lot of laxative and was about to lose his battle with the call of nature. Actually... I didn't know better. So, I hoped I wouldn't be cleaning up more than sticky vomit prints.

It took no time at all to crush the skeleton bone into dust and sprinkle it onto the venom in the bottom of a cup. He drank it down willingly. Within a couple of minutes, the knuckles turned a calmer pink, the feet and knees stopped their incessant movement, his eyes lost their wildness, and his head began to slump onto his chest. And seconds later, he was snoring in my bed. *sigh* At least someone gets to grab some rest. I stepped outside and began my morning routine.

To be frank, I wasn't happy my bed was being used by anyone other than me. Never mind that others may have dozed on it while I was working, and that the old witch most certainly used it prior to my moving in, but still! And yet, to be fair, with what he'd been through, no doubt he was tired.

And then I realized he'll probably be ravenous when he wakes. So... time to prepare food for two. Which also means he spends more time here.

As I got back to work, I thought about my thoughts about this prolonged visit. And how much I didn't like it. The intrusion into my life here was something I simply disliked. But I'd manage today. Be polite, be professional, be sympathetic, be gently insistent that he leave.

I didn't get my chance to be all that for several hours. But he did finally emerge, looking much calmer and relaxed. And as predicted, he was hungry.

I thought it'd be a great opportunity to hear his story. Or at least the reasons behind his story. After all, I already knew where he'd been when things went bad. I wanted to know the why.

It took nothing to get him talking. I started to pry and he just opened up. "I don't believe I properly introduced myself last night. Cornelius McTwitter, physician to the town of High Rannoc. Pleased to make your acquaintance. My apologies for the state I was in last night. Completely unprofessional on my part. And to think it was all from my attempt to purchase a skeleton. Reanimated skeleton. No better kind to have in a medical office. I can have it point out to my patients the parts of the body affected when dealing with medical issues. By the way, I noticed you seem to be lacking a reanimated skeleton."

I agreed that I didn't possess one.

He nodded in acknowledgement. "In fact, I don't see that you have much of an establishment at all. No books, no laboratory equipment. How do you properly examine someone's urine without a laboratory?"

"I don't see the need. For instance, I cured you of your afflictions and didn't need to use any equipment."

"And you have no leeches. How can you balance humours without bleeding a patient?"

I just smiled and said, "Again, I cured you without them."

He looked indignant. "But certainly you just got lucky! Or I was already on the mend!"

I was getting testy. "You were on your way to becoming a zombie because you interrupted a necromancer in the middle of a magical spell and his Igor handed you a potion that was a poison that you drank." 

"Now really! That's too much. I mean, yes, I did go to see the gentleman and he did look busy, but how else do you arrange to purchase a reanimated skeleton. It's not like he consigns them through Bits & Bobs."

"That gentleman is a vampire."

"Oh, pish! Nonsense! Vampire, indeed!"

"That was vampire venom you just drank."

He scoffed. "Probably something completely innocuous, like a wildflower root. Witches have all sorts of scary-sounding names for not-scary things."

Right. I was done. "Well, I'm glad to see you have an appetite again. So if you don't mind, I do have things I need to tend to, like cleaning up little vomit-people footprints. And I'm sure your clinic needs its doctor back."

"Oh! Yes! Didn't realize it was getting on in the day. What do I owe you?"

Since these were more serious conditions, I increased my price. Thirty silver for each cure, sixty total. The lunch I threw in for free. The hours of scrubbing my cottage clean of the ravages of last night's chaos would help me release my rage at his ignorance. 

He didn't blink as he laid the money on the table. "Right! A very good day to you." And with that, he left. And I breathed a sigh of relief.

Also Spring, Week 3 - Here Yet Not Here

Here's the video on how I wrote the Here Yet Not Here episoide:

Rainy days. A part of me knows they are absolutely necessary to keep things green and lush. And they tend to keep everyone indoors so there's far fewer chances of anyone doing anything that would end up bringing them here. For me, it meant lingering in bed, then getting a comfortable fire going - a warm dry room against the wet chill outside is just lovely. It was a good time to reflect on the past couple of weeks, to spend some time coming to terms with myself and my witchy role, and getting to know MouseEye better.

I'd made an actual small house on my mantlepiece. It wasn't much - a few sticks, some string to keep the pieces together, and the little things I'd gathered for it. So maybe "house" was too much word for the lean-to it actually was, but on the other hand it was a structure, I'd made it intending for it to be a house, and most importantly, I'd made it. Pride of ownership, pride of craftsmanship. And I should add pride of potionship!

I poured myself a tea then set a second cup under my lean-to. House! My house! My lean house.

And I guess that's a thing too. I did have, again, a bit of money in my pocket. But to be able to afford much more in terms of tools or upgrading of equipment, I'd have to live a bit lean for a time.

No matter - I was used to that sort of living.

Going from having no money - and having little concept of how much things cost - to having money and seeing exactly how much things cost! - back to having a little money - it was all a lot to take in. But I'd bought a hive, an investment I know will pay dividends well into the future, and my next purchases (when I can finally afford them) will do the same. Maybe I didn't know the value of a piece of silver but I did know the value of basic math!

And speaking of math... and things not adding up (nice segue, I think) - there's the matter of the Smooth Croak in my pocket to feed the weird chest thing. I know I hadn't put it there, so there was only one way it'd ended up there - MouseEye. How had he known I'd need it?

After I'd taken some time to just sit and think and do some deep breathing, I asked MouseEye about it.

He was laying under the lean-to (House!!!), eyes half-closed (appropriate for being under a half-house), when I asked the question. His eyes didn't open as he responded. "Getting it into your pocket was simple. You didn't even notice the spoon you walked around with all that day. As to why I put it there... you know how the bees and I talked and we understood each other even though we don't speak each other's languages? It was like that - I just knew I had to do it. So I did. And I think you experienced something of the sort with the bees. Same basic thing."

That was something. Maybe it had something to do with the land? Did it somehow know things ahead of time? Or maybe MouseEye did? I knew there were bound to be surprises related to the cottage but this was more than I'd anticipated!

"Is that how you knew I'd be fine with the sphinx?"

"Mmhmm."

"So what about inside Hero's Hollow? Did you know that was going to happen?"

MouseEye opened his eyes. "I know little bits here and there. I don't know everything. Especially when they go wrong."

"But you knew I'd be ok down there, right? You knew I'd be safe?"

He closed his eyes and didn't answer.

After a minute, I murmured to myself, "I'll take that as a 'no'."

The silence felt awkward. I knew I had a tendency to get angry or snappy or snarky. I decided to surprise myself, if no one else, with some gratitude. "MouseEye, you are amazing. You can see bits of the future and, as much as you can, you help me and my patients. Thank you for everything you do."

I watched as MouseEye peeked up a bit, pressed his front paws together in what I think could be called a Prayer Pose, wiggled his whiskers, and said, "You're welcome, Mistress." And then, instead of settling back down, he looked more attentive.

This was promising! I decided to ask another question. "When you disappear, say in the air balloon with Madcap, you said you don't always stay with me. So... where do you go?"

To his credit, MouseEye didn't answer at first, but instead just looked thoughtful. "It's hard to describe. But I'm glad you asked because it's something that should be shared."

I knew well enough to allow him to speak in his own time. This felt momentous. 

"Let's talk about this cottage. The old witch lived in it, maybe will again, maybe not, but in the past she lived here."

I nodded but had no idea where this was going.

"So you came here. You were formerly living in a woodcutter's cottage. Following so far?"

I didn't see why I wouldn't be, but ok. I nodded again.

"What do you think would have happened if somebody else had moved in?"

I had no idea. "Apply to be an apprentice? Go back home? Maybe work with Francie as a domestic?"

MouseEye nodded. "What if you'd never successfully made it here? Like the wagon was attacked by bandits? Or you had to stay home to take care of your ailing father?"

I... what? Ailing father? Was he ok?

"Nonono! I don't know anything about your father, or your mother for that matter. I'm just asking what would've happened to the witch's cottage."

I was drawing blanks.

"It would eventually attract a witch. It's a witch's cottage. At some point a witch would live here."

I nodded slowly.

"Here's where it gets tricky. What if, at roughly the same time, all the possible people who could live in the cottage did live in this cottage."

Tricky. He did say "tricky". But he didn't say "impossible". So I did.

"Well... sort of. Because while you are here and experiencing your life with me, as time goes on there are other witches who are experiencing their lives with their familiars. All at the same time that you are. Unlike most of them, you've just been told that they also live in their cottages, which are their versions of the cottage, and this cottage is your version of the cottage. See?"

Ah... nope. Not at all.

"Ok, how about this - I was at one point, and for a very short period of time, in another version of this cottage."

I know my face was a complete furrowed mess. So much for a relaxing day. Metaphysics was what I'd really intended.

"And I brought something back with me. But I didn't know how to tell you who it's from. So... here..."

Once again, a surprise came out from behind the lean-to. A letter. A small folded up letter. From someone named Pip. 

Pip's letter (with a background of my journal)

It said:

Hi I'm Pip

I'm living in this cottage. It's a bit lonely sometimes. 

Do you want to be penpals?

Elaborate box for yes. A very plain (and much smaller) box for no.

It was signed "Your new bestie Pip"

And then a PS - please check yes.

And the note was covered in hearts!

A new bestie? Living here but not here?

I looked at MouseEye in amazement. "This person is someone else who...?"

"Mmhmm."

Wow. So... ok.

"Can I send a letter back?"

"Mmhmm."

Ok. So time to grab a bit of paper, a pencil, and...

"Sorry. Almost forgot. Here's this..."

He pulled a reagent I'd never seen before out from where the letter had been. As I looked at it, I asked, "Is there anything else back there I should know about?"

"No. Not yet, anyway."

Not yet? Well... I suppose letters can come through there. Anyway - the reagent. A plant, certainly. Maybe it's...

"Oh yeah - it's called 'Rosemary'. Good for relaxation and something called 'Branching Out'."

I didn't know what to do with it. It isn't in the witch's notes. How...?

MouseEye to the rescue. He saw my confusion. "I think the old witch didn't know everything there is to know. You may find this useful when you need to treat someone who has an affliction not on the list."

Huh. She maybe didn't know everything? The book isn't all there is to witching? I think the ground dropped out from underneath me. Luckily, I was still seated so the ground was close at hand.

The world swirled around me. Other witches, here but not here? Witches sending me letters from here but not here? I...

My hand brushed past my tea cup. Newly filled tea cup. MouseEye, with eyes closed and head resting on his paws, was still up on the mantlepiece.

Surprises indeed.

"MouseEye? If I write a letter to Pip, will you deliver it?"

I expected one answer, but didn't receive it.

"Mmhmm."

This is what I wrote.

Hi Pip! I'm... call me Sweet!

You make lovely hearts. I hope you don't mind if I don't make them too.

I'd love to be your penpal! Tick mark in a Yes box.

And yes, it is lonely being a witch. But a little less so now that I know you are living here yet not here in the cottage (MouseEye tried to explain it to me but I still don't get it.)

Your best bestie back!

Sweet

Spring, Week 3 - Bob's Cludgie Mouth

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

 This is the life. When I think about how hard my father had to work - cutting down trees, processing them into transportable logs, and then getting them to the sawmill - so much time and effort for so little return, both in terms of money and respect. And yet here I am, comfortably set up in this lovely cottage, supported by people who, by the way things have gone so far, get warts on various pats of their bodies, and pay handsomely to have them removed.

I don't think my father, when he sent me off to school, would ever have expected me to find such an easy and lucrative place. And I didn't even have to attend that silly school.

It just can't get much better than this!

Although, now that I think on it, there's one thing that would improve the day - a small sampling of the honey I know is inside the bee hive. Which is why I walked over to the hive, all busy and buzzing with activity, with a small spoon, ready to taste that golden sweetness. My mind wandered to the contents of the hive, then to how my mouth would delight in the thick and rich flavour, the product of so much effort. And all mine.

The bees saw me coming and I think were prepping up a droplet or five - enough so I would know if it was sweet enough, rich enough, delicious enough. I couldn't wait!

But I would have to wait because something happened. I think the wind shifted. But it wasn't the wind itself that put a delay on my delight, but rather the smell on the wind was enough to cause anyone to pause. It smelled like a midden. But a midden that had clogged due to some large thing that had died and was slowly blocking the flow, meanwhile rotting slowly away. It... oh whatever it was, it was bad. So so bad. And not stopping.

MouseEye emerged from somewhere close and ran up my pants leg, then up my shirt sleeve, and up onto my shoulder. Before he spoke, I could feel the disapproval of my "wasting" a spot of honey for my personal gratification. "I assume your nose is working? Whoosh!"

I nodded. "Do you suppose the town will get that fixed soon? It's unbearable!"

"I don't know." 

At first I thought he was answering about the High Rannoc midden (maybe called Low Rannoc?) being fixed. But then when the wind shifted again but the smell didn't, I wondered if he was thinking it wasn't coming from the town at all.

"MouseEye, can you check to see if this stink is coming from the town?"

A pause, then, "Must I?"

I was just about to say yes when I spied someone approaching the cottage. "No, MouseEye. I think the source of the foul air has just arrived for help." I tucked my spoon into my pocket and headed back.

As I got closer, I saw it was none other than Bob. What in the world had he done to have this happen?

He saw me coming and, kind soul that he is, tested the wind to get himself downwind yet still within shouting distance. He looked abashed. "My apologies, Mistress. I'm afraid I've been cursed." He was half-gagging as he yelled that to me.

I asked MouseEye to spare Bob and I from shouting to each other. But, of course, MouseEye was nowhere to be found. Typical.

"What happened?"

As Bob answered, I swear the air around him turned an unhealthy shade of green. "Business deal went sour. A bog goblin swore he'd found something amazing and wanted me to buy it. Fentoad Scurf. The thing about it is that it goes bad really quickly. You need to harvest from living fentoads at your workbench. So what the goblin brought me was useless and not worth a thing. The goblin wasn't happy that I wouldn't buy so he cursed me."

Oh boy did he ever. At least the diagnosis was easy. The potion was going to be a bit trickier than what I'd made before - the curse wasn't difficult to deal with but the infection part was going to be a challenge. But no matter - I'd have Bob right as rain in no time. And I told him that.

"Gods I hope so. I know the reek isn't good where you are, but from where I'm sitting? It's wretched! And I've got to keep my shop closed until I can wait on customers again."

I gathered my things, bid him farewell (he insisted on staying in my cottage so's to not offend the townspeople with his breath. I wasn't happy that my cottage would probably forever smell of bog goblin, but I kept my mouth shut), and headed off. To Hero's Hollow.

So... not that I'm complaining, but Hero's Hollow isn't my favourite place. For one, it's hollow. For two, I'm no hero. However, needs be that I go there so needs be that I go there.

At the very least, I now know where the walk-in entrance is. The falling-in entrance is also known! (And very much not preferred).

My goal - my focus - was on the infection. After all that I'd collected ahead of time, I hadn't gotten an infection reagent yet (and I figured while I was out, I'd pick up a fresh curse reagent as well). And so I was on the lookout for Silverleaf. The difficulty with Silverleaf is that it's sharp, clings to the sides of caverns and tunnel walls, and only grows in the dark. It's easy to cut yourself if you aren't careful. However, it is easier if you have a mouse who loves to watch things. He spotted it without much difficulty.

And that's where things went from going well to absolute disaster. And in the end it was my fault but I was so absolutely certain I was right, I just wouldn't listen.

I'd gotten it into my head that I needed Liquid Fire. It's not easy to find and dangerous if you're not prepared - note the "Fire" part of all that - but I was convinced it needed to be mixed into the potion. MouseEye disagreed with me. And so we got into a bit of an argument. Yes, it's every bit as silly as it sounds - there I was, arguing with a mouse who claimed that, not only was I in the wrong, but arrogantly so (with obvious references to my near-wasting a dose of honey), in a dark tunnel not far from where I'd been accidentally temporarily imprisoned a couple of weeks prior.

I said a couple of very not nice things, including his disappearing when things got tough. Not only not nice - they were unfair. I know that now. Heck - I knew it then too, but I was so... full of myself. Frankly, I didn't recognize myself, looking back. Definitely not my finest moment.

And then it got worse. Oh so much worse. I said that maybe I should send him back to wherever familiars come from and get one that was truly useful. MouseEye, stunned, just murmured, "I suppose you should". And then disappeared. No flash, no sound. Just one second there and the next, not. Except for a single tear that glowed faintly blue in the dark and slowly faded away.

I... I was a mess. But a mess who choked back her tears and focused, once again, on gathering Liquid Fire. 

Note to self - don't try to gather Liquid Fire when you're a mess. You'll just make a mess of it.

I wandered around the tunnels, doing my best to find the blasted Fire. Nope, nope, and nope. I think I actually screamed in frustration.

Another note to self - when you scream in dark, creepy places, you may attract unwanted attention to yourself.

I got lucky - it wasn't unwanted attention. It was more... unhelpful. At first.

After I screamed, I stood stark still as it echoed along passages dark and grim. Yes - I said "dark and grim". I'm trying to be more poetic. I wasn't thinking "dark and grim" at the time. My thoughts were more like "stupid, stupid, stupid!". Especially when I heard footsteps. And they got closer. And closer still.

While it sounded like a small army coming at me, what I saw was a chest - a wooded chest - moving towards me. When it got close enough, I could see what must have been a hundred little legs underneath the "body". It was weird. It was strange. It was what an enthusiastic dog would be if it were a piece of furniture. An enthusiastic dog that really wanted a treat. It begged. It whined. It stood up on... more than two legs while all the rest waved ineffectually in the air. I... I had no idea what to do. And my super-able translator had just buggered off.

Drat.

I patted my pockets to show that I had nothing to offer. No treats to be had here. See? I'm patting my pockets and finding... something. What the...?

Why is there Smooth Croak in my pocket? Why is there...?

The walking box nuzzled my pocket. Yes - that one.

It? He? enjoyed the treat. I guess. And then it kind of crouched down, opened its lid, and let me peer in.

I tried to look without getting too close but it just wasn't possible to look effectively without sticking my head in. So... I looked.

Do you remember that I was feeling incredibly stupid? Yeah - looking back, this was another example. Yes, there was something in there. Yes, I was curious. Yes, I might've been swallowed and that would've been it.

It turns out, there was something the chest wanted but couldn't make happen on its own. There were little knitted socks in the chest. About one hundred of them. I know because I put booties onto each of the chest's feet. All of them. The end ones were ok, but the middle ones were harder. And most of the feet were in the middle.

Once I was done, it padded off. And I was running out of time. I knew Bob wouldn't wait forever.

As the chest padded off, I yelled out that I needed to find Liquid Fire. It stopped, managed to look over its shoulder, then... I guess beckoned is the best word... and off it led directly to Liquid Fire.

I was excited, tired, mourning MouseEye, definitely not at my best. I managed to nearly hurt myself repeatedly (my clothes are going to need extensive mending and my shoes are now more like open-toed sandals) but I finally managed to collect some. Finally! And as I mentally reviewed the benefits, I realized MouseEye had been absolutely right. I didn't need this. Hadn't needed it. Had just wasted time and energy gathering this.

I wanted to cry. So I did. The chest wandered off.

I sat, absorbed in misery. I needed Old Blood - really needed it. And had no idea how to... wait... that cell I'd fallen into. Wasn't there manacles on the wall? And where there's manacles, maybe there's struggle to escape. Maybe there was violence and spilled blood and maybe maybe maybe there's harvestable blood.

I set off at a run. Not so fast that I'd hurt myself if I banged into anything but fast enough that I could feel air streaming past my face.

I didn't make it to the cells. I didn't need to. On my way there I passed by where I'd found the Silverleaf. Had someone been extraordinarily unlucky with their harvest? Maybe sliced through an artery?

It wasn't as if I was hoping someone would hurt themselves! I was hoping someone had hurt themselves.

I found what I was looking for. Tucked away in a large crevice was the remains of someone. And there were blood scrapings aplenty.

I raced home, hoping I was in time, that Bob hadn't left yet.

He hadn't. But he wasn't happy at all that I'd taken as long as I had. I think. Actually, now that I'm going over what did happen, I think I was so embarrassed from the time I knew I'd wasted that I blew right by him (and, frankly, the smell encouraged my speeding by) so that I didn't take the time to let him know that everything was going to be ok. And soon.

As I was stoking the fire, I looked up to see Bob throw up his hands in frustration and start to leave! There was no way I was going to let him go after everything I'd been through! So I had to dash out and stop him. But first I had to catch my breath and that wasn't easy since in catching my breath I caught big draughts of his.

"Bob! Sir! Please - I've got everything I need to brew up the potion. I need just a bit more time to get things prepped and mixed. Please - don't go." I think I half-wailed.

He stood there for a minute, then, "I thought maybe things weren't going well. You weren't giving me the time of day. Anyway, I'll settle back into a chair and wait for your cure."

While there were bunches of things I wanted to say, I only got out, "Thank you!", before dashing back to the cottage. Ok - not quite true. I started to dash but then Bob yelled out, "I'm not going anywhere so just slow down and make the potion you know you can make. If you hurry, I could end up with no voice! Or the face of a chicken! Or I could be stuck with bog goblin breath for the rest of my days!"

I did end up dashing into the cottage, but before I set to (re-)starting my preparations again, I went to the little... house, I guess... on the mantlepiece, closed my eyes, and just forced myself to breathe. And I counted them. All ten.

Feeling much better from that pause (and better able to concentrate), I got back to my work. I got the fire stoked and began boiling the Old Blood (it reeked almost as bad as Bob's breath). While that was going, I crushed up the Silverleaf. As I worked it into a powder, my mind drifted back to Hero's Hollow, the endless dark of the dungeon, and MouseEye.

That I found MouseEye frustratingly... obstinate? secretive? puzzling? How...?

The Silverleaf was approaching dust levels. Crushed far more than I'd intended.

Before the potion could be completed, I had one last ingredient to grab - honey - to counteract the bit of poison in the Old Blood would introduce.

The spoon was still in my pocket. I pulled it out as I headed for the hive. The buzzing swelled as I approached. I hadn't figured out how to retrieve the honey. Something else needing solving. *sigh* But this time I was going to do things properly. I stood in front of the hive and asked for a dose of honey. And held out the spoon in case they didn't understand me.

Several bees began to fly circles around the base of the hive. I held my spoon under where they were flying. A small drizzle of honey dripped into my spoon. Holding it carefully, I thanked the bees, then headed back.

The last step was combining all the ingredients together. A bit of mixing over low heat (so the honey would melt throughout) and it was done. I walked it out to Bob.

He accepted it and drank it down. And in minutes his breath was as fresh as honey can make it.

And then, instead of reaching into his pocket or otherwise making haste back to High Rannoc, he just set the cup down, looked thoughtful for a minute, then began to speak. "You, little miss, and begging your pardon I mean no offence, are young. You have a gift, no doubt, an ability to heal the body. But dealing with people is more than the physical - it's about compassion. When you came to my shop that first time, I served you and your desires to view my stock for a fair bit of time. I never once complained about what I knew was going to be my very cold lunch, or my aching feet. It's something I learned when I sat with my grandfather as he ran the shop and when I clerked in the back for my father. It's something for you to learn now. It's more important, in many ways, to let people know what's going on, keep up their spirits, that sort of thing.

"Maybe you need a hobby that will help you be more peaceful. I know the old witch got into knitting baby booties. Really got into it. Bought way more yarn than ever she made into the town's babies! I know that. Maybe you should try your hand at something like that.

"I do see that you're far more calm now than you were when you first got back from your foraging hunt. Think on what I said. It's a manner that's served my family for generations and I hope will serve you well as well.

"And now I should pay you, get out of your hair, and get my shop aired out for opening tomorrow."

The twenty silver clinked into my hand but it felt like his words were worth far more.

He waved as he stepped out of view. And I... I wandered back to the cottage. And to the spirit house on the mantlepiece. The house's house. It still wasn't much more than a small bowl of water, a candle, the Star Shard, and a few wildflower blossoms, but it represented more than what the parts were.

Not a great explanation, but it's the best I can manage right now. It certainly wasn't perfect. It just wasn't... perfect. And I certainly wasn't perfect. Oh no! Not perfect at all. But I was doing the best I could. Not perfect but doing my best. That's me.

And this place. Not perfect but doing its best.

And the bees. Not perfect but doing their best.

And... MouseEye. Not perfect but doing his best.

And... I wasn't allowing him to be imperfect. His imperfect. Maybe it's frustrating to me that his imperfections are so frustratingly frustrating to me, but...

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for how I behaved. I didn't treat Bob well, didn't treat myself well, and didn't treat MouseEye well. I said it to myself, to the house, to the house's house, and to MouseEye wherever he was.

And then I chuckled to myself. Wherever he is? I can probably guess. I looked up at the mantlepiece again. Water, candle, Star Shard, two eyes amongst a few wildflower blossoms. 

I reached over to where his little mouse head should be and gave it some gentle pets. "You know, MouseEye, I've spent my last two weeks wandering around, going to town, exploring here and there. But I haven't spent any time at all talking with you, sharing thoughts and ideas. So, if it's ok with you, I'd like to stay here, walk the property a bit, but most of all get to know you better. What do you think about that?"

With a mischievous grin, all he said was, "Must I?" 

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.