Hello Everyone! Aime here, I wanted to start this post by saying Thank You to all of you for following my story. It means so much to have your support for this bit of creativity that flows out of my overactive brain. It is what keeps any writer going and putting out content on any given day. You are the best! Now, here’s Eleanorah…
Hey Everyone, nice to see you back! I hope autumn (or spring, as it may be) is treating you well. Here, it is painfully dry, we are in a moderate-to-severe drought and plants of all types are suffering. Thankfully, it is nearing leaf-drop anyway, so the colors New England is famous for are progressing, a bit more quickly than normal. Things change color overnight, and wow, the poison ivy is spectacular! Here are a few pics I took while walking Dash a mile down the hill from me:
I do love fall, though I fight to hold on to the summer sun, and this weekend should be perfect for that. I may have to start doing rain dances, a couple rainy days would be welcome. Landscaping is slowing down, so that means more time for writing and maybe a couple other ideas as well…. Anyway, let’s get back to Cragbend and Elahna, it’s much more fun there.~
We left Elahna after she had just purchased that sweet new rucksack. I miss that bag, I wish it had crossed back with me, but of course it couldn’t. What’s next in her day? Ready to find out? OK, let’s go!
Back out on the main road, I turned right, back toward the clock tower. A sign with a pink frosted cupcake caught my eye, and I remembered Aymur’s comment on peach tarts. I pushed open the bright blue door and entered the North Pole of sweet shops. It smelled of spun sugar, birthday cake, and chocolate. My mouth began to water like Pavlov’s dogs.
“Elements be, aye fla, what sweetnics can I tempt you with?”
A thin man with wavy hair that resembled fudge in a bowl hailed me as I entered. His apron was stained with smears of icing and jelly in every color, and powdered sugar coated the backs of his fine-boned hands. I wondered how he could possibly be so slim working in a place like this all day, but then I noticed the huge sacks of flour and sugar, and barrels of fruit that lined the walls and tables of the bakery. If he mixed them all, he wouldn’t have time to eat! But wouldn’t there be magic at work here too?
“Elements be, Aymur Arborea told me I had to have a peach tart from Sweetnic’s before I left. Am I in the right place?” I smiled as I looked before me at the cooling pastries and cookies.
In the back of the shop, a young man stood waving his hands over a long table where a lengths of rainbow colored candy writhed and twirled in response. It was like watching bolts of cloth being drawn and cut into ribbons. When he had the lengths at a certain size, he spun his wrist around and the candy twirled into unicorn horns, or knots, or balloon-animal shapes. Then he stuck a cinnamon stick or a waxed cord into them. A small girl next to him plucked them out of the air and put them on racks to cool.
The man before me chuckled a little, drawing my attention back. “Why yes, you are! Aymur stops in for a peach tart every time he’s in town. Is that all you’d like?”
The tiny cakes and chocolate truffles winked at me, I swear, and the cookies flashed their dark, molten chips at me. But I resisted and replied, “Yes, thank you, but I will take two, if I may? Are you Rennay?”
“As you like, fla, yes, I be Rennay, crafter of all that is sweet. Who might you be?” He answered in a pleasant tone as he wrapped two flaky, pink sugar-coated tarts and handed me a thin, foil bag. The foil was warm as a baking sheet, but the warmth did not linger on my fingers after they left the bag.
“I’m Elahna. I’m a guest of Lady Daphne for a day or two. How long will this stay warm?”
“How long do you need it to? Certainly through tomorrow morning, if you can make them last that long. You can replenish at my kinsman’s shop in Sawyerset, though, so no need to draw out the delight.” Rennay winked at me, he knew just who I was.
“Thank you, ok, I will do that. Do you make all of this yourself?”
The selection of baked goods and poured candies was incredible. Most pieces looked to be individually crafted, but the amount of time that would take would be impossible. Rennay must have magic he uses.
*Photos by form PxHere
“Yes, with my sontres and dautris, dua of whom are there,” he waved at the back of the shop, “and the tertiar is out on errands. I have other helpers when they are occupied at their matris’s or in Sawyerset.”
“So you have magic, too.” My statement wasn’t really supposed to be heard, but I guess I said it aloud.
“Oh yes, but not a lot, we aren’t Elementals, but for simple things like mixing and shaping, common talents that help us in our lives and trade. Like Toscan is doing there, spinning candy.”
“I see. Everything is so beautiful. I would hesitate to eat it because it looks like art or toys.” I saw a slight frown quirk his lips, and I hastily continued, “But I’m sure I would forget about that once I tasted it.” I smiled again, hoping to bury the slight I must have given. Ugh.
Now, I can see where that comment might have caused him to frown, but it was true! The cakes looked like stuffed bunnies and chicks, fluffy and bright yellow and white, with ribbons around their necks and whiskered noses. The candies resembled packages, animals, other food items, and celestial bodies. If I didn’t know they were confections, I would have thought they belonged on a shelf, or in a child’s toy box.
I paid for the tarts and agreed to convey tidings to Aymur.
Back at the clock tower, I noted the time as one-thirty to me, so half terdecca? Still loads of time, and I really wanted a quiet spot to process all I had learned that morning. The sound of the water wheel caught my attention again, so I followed the lure.
The road past The Cleft Barrel was subdued compared to the bustle of the Sagebridge road. On the right, I passed a tidy cottage framed by fenced gardens that teemed with color and vegetation. The sky blue sign had a rainbow in an upper corner and a mortar and pestle front and center.
Ah, probably the Orderly. I slowed and recognized many of the plants as healing herbs. Bright purple scapes of lavender, tight carpets of mother-of-thyme, and bold leaves of castor bean stood out as I wandered past, along with scents of mint, chamomile, and anise hyssop. In places, the unruly plants covered the pebbled paths, but in others, the herbs were cut neatly revealing rich brown mulch.
*Photos by form PxHere, except thyme image credit Alan Levine on PxHere.
A pedestal that looked like a small altar stood in the center of one of the blocks; I had noticed similar pieces in front of other buildings too. It could easily have held a sun dial or other garden ornament, but something about the individuality of each one I had seen suggested religion, or honor. I stopped then and looked around—there was no church-type building in the center of town, where I would expect one to be. Nature worshippers, perhaps?
Past the Orderly’s property, (which I noted had every square inch planted with herbs or edibles of some sort), there was a thin trail that wound off into the grass. The building before me was a mill of some sort, with the luring water wheel splashing off seconds in the sparkly river.
I followed the trail which ended on the riverbank. Setting my pack down under a small tree, I collapsed in the grass on my back.
*Photo by form PxHere
I laid there for a few moments listening to unfamiliar birdsongs and inhaling the earthy scents to the backdrop of the waterwheel’s beat. Everywhere I went there was a vibrancy, a vitality and a positivity that permeated the air, even.
I could only describe it as the feeling you have on the first day of vacation—so full of energy, promise, activity, confidence— you know that feeling, right?
When my senses could hold no more sensations, I sat up and retrieved the foil pack. It was still oven-warm, the tarts soft and light in my hand. Aymur was right, it was an amazing peach tart. I wanted to scarf both of them down in a sticky, sweet minute, but I only ate half of one and re-stowed them.
My new rucksack should have been quite full with all I had stuffed inside, yet plenty of room remained, and it wasn’t heavy to carry at all. Bespelled again? Most likely, but I wasn’t complaining. This magic here certainly had its advantages. Ungifted though I was, I would employ it in the forms I could!
After a brief nap, I stretched and faced upstream, toward the mill. No sound of giant stones grinding together reached me, only that of splishing water, so perhaps it was a wool or textile mill.
*Photo by form PxHere
Beyond that, the river widened way out into a pond, or a bay, if such could be on a river. I heard shouts every once in a while, and could see patches of color moving around, which I assumed to be people. They appeared to be moving around in familiar patterns, and then I saw a large boat—a barge?—creep into the middle of the bay. It was a large, flat vessel poled on either side by a man, away from me and the mill. Then a team of horses, big draft horses, emerged from the shade of a copse of trees on either bank. There must be another town upstream that they were returning to. Rennay had mentioned somewhere called Sawyerset on the road to Irillo, perhaps I would find out tomorrow.
I watched the activity upstream for a while and decided it must be a wood mill, which only made sense with Cragbend being the Arborea Seat, and the predominance of wooden construction everywhere. Occasionally I caught a slight scent of wood shavings, or burning wood, so that must be it. But where there didn’t appear to be electricity here, it would all be hand-sawn work, or magic. Like the woodworker with the carriages. Yes, magic.
I indulged in a quiet couple of hours by the river before heading back to Rosewood Manor.
As I crossed the bridge over the river, I saw three young children under the bridge, catching frogs and squeezing them to make them turn colors.
It was actually quite entertaining. I stopped on the bridge to watch them. The frogs were great fat things, and when squeezed, if they didn’t belch or emit fecal material to the boys’ delight, they turned any random shade of color. And if they were squeezed again, the color would change.
I’ll leave it here for now, the day isn’t over, but my trip to town is. See you next episode!~
A backpack that never fills up? What student couldn’t use that? I do wish it could have crossed back with me. The heated foil was super handy too, you could have warm bread whenever you wanted. Would you have done anything different in a new town? Comment below and let me know.
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