Tag: #fantasywriter

  • The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #28

    Hello Everyone! Welcome to September! It doesn’t seem possible that the year is three-quarters gone already. Kids are returning to school around here, school buses have returned to the morning traffic patterns. And now that I look at it, the red maple out my window is showing faint red and purple hues in the leaves. The heat and rain we have had may keep autumn’s arrival on a more normal schedule, but it will come nonetheless. It also should be brilliant! 🍁🍂 Stay safe and healthy!

    So Elahna and Ivy finally reached Irillo and began making their way through the city in the last episode. We learned more about Ivy, too. Though she may be ‘nobility’ as we think of it, she did have an integrated upbringing. Despite being related to Regna Halesia and her mother being part of the Eanneadic Council, Ivy was a street tender and maintains her friendships from those summers spent competing for the Bronze Broom. But let’s get back into Irillo, shall we?~


    The din of conversation increased, spilling from an opening on the other side of a tall, slender building of rough cream stucco with deep green timber accents. The sign that hung above the door was unusual; a central lime green lightning bolt pierced silver waves against a sky blue field. The green lightning was what drew my attention.

    The sign of a Jival Orderly

    “Ivy, what does that sign mean? Is there really green lightning?”

    “That is the sign of a Jival orderly. They work by detecting irregularities in one’s life essence and restoring it to balance. The essence is shown as green because they often have abilities with animals and plants as well. House Bios has the element of air, but deals with living beings. Earth magic often colors their workings.”

    “Oh, that does make sense. How would one know to go to them instead of the other orderly?”

    “Well, generally when nothing else works. Or if there is a head injury or major trauma in the past. Emotional concerns too.”

    “I see. That’s very interesting. I wonder if that’s who Fife really meant me to see the day they found me. Like I’d been knocked on the head, or something, talking about other worlds and such.”

    “Most likely, though Cragbend’s orderly isn’t a Jival, he’s a Mendly. Not much he could have done for you, had you turned out to be touched. Good thing we all believed you.”

    “Yes, good thing.” I said.

    So that made me wonder if not everyone would believe me; that I was from another world. Someone could think me mad, after all. Then I’d have to go see a Jival orderly to ‘correct my irregularities.’ I wondered what they would find.

    A young woman rounded the corner, entering the traffic flow, a large basket filled with vegetables over one arm and a squawking chicken clutched in the other. Her face reflected embarrassment and she tried tucking the noisy bird backward under her arm to quiet it, which only made it squawk louder.

    *Image by NickyPe from Pixabay 

    “Best put that one right in the pot, fla, else you’ll have no peace!” A passerby advised the flustered girl, which elicited guffaws and laughter from those around us.

    The direction she had come from opened up into a broadly crescent-shaped space guarded by an obelisk of mottled white and gray marble. People were packing carts and hauling hand wagons toward the road, while others hefted bags or crates. Whatever had gone on there apparently had finished for the day.

    “Each quarter of the city has its own market. Vendors and traders have specific days they attend on, so their customers know when to find them. Many rotate between quarters, but some only visit one or two. They figure out what works best for them. They are wrapping up for today.”

    We were almost past the market entrance when a sound like water pattering on a crystal chandelier rang out. Ivy reined in abruptly. I followed suit a few paces on.

    “Elements be, sir, how long until the rain?” Ivy asked an older man pulling a hand wagon.

    The man’s gray hair stood out on end around the sides of his head beneath the flattened felt hat he wore. Long, slender, pointed ears fit through slots in the hat’s turned edge. When he gazed up at us, the copper rings piercing the points of his ears glinted in the setting sun. His face had deeply weathered lines around slate gray eyes. Numerous laugh lines framed the smile that blossomed across his lips. It was the kind of face that made me want to smile in return and I found myself doing just that.

    “Elements be, she of the Arborea. The clock does say we have but half an *erdur until the land gets a bath. Are you heading far?”

    “No, just to Forelore. My friend has never been to Irillo, however, so I didn’t want to dawdle too long. My thanks, stay dry yourself this evening.” Ivy nodded slightly, to which the smiling man bowed low.

    “The clock tells the weather?” I asked, a bit in awe.

    “Each face of the clock towers in the markets tells a different thing. One face tells time, one tells how long until and what the weather workers have scheduled. That was the rain chime you heard. Another face shows the *anar of the anek of the anos, and the last shows the current astro sign. They are wonders. Each clock and each face is different. Make sure you see them when you are out exploring.” Her eyes slid horizontally toward me. “And I know you will.”

    “Why of course! As soon as I can!”

    “Turn left at the next street, we’ll go the longer way. This way has a better view of Forelore and leads us right to the stables.” Ivy indicated the next fork in the road.

    Before we left the South Road, I spied an ivory stone bridge arching over the silvery river. More black metal scrollwork intertwined with shining copper topped the span’s walls. The effect was stark yet still elegant and refined. Shrubs shorn into animal topiaries flanked the bridge end. One looked like it might be a fish of some sort, the other I couldn’t tell.

    Forelore sat directly opposite us, on the far shore, its pale gray walls topped with what had looked to be one color of green from afar, but was actually roofs of several shades of green that blended to create the same serene backdrop as a forest canopy. Off to the right, the red I saw earlier resolved into the shape of an immense flame on top of another building. I craned my neck back to keep looking as we moved off to the left.

    “Is that really a flame on that part of Forelore, off to the right?” I asked.

    “Yes, the main part of the Flamel wing is crowned with a flame. It looks like its burning in the sunlight because it’s roofed with red crystal tiles. It’s one of the more extravagant aspects of Forelore. Trees make up parts of the Gaiist wing, but nothing like Rosewood Manor. The Aeros wing has more glass and crystal than stone. Each wing reflects the family it houses. You’ll see more when we get there. We’re on Rose Street at the moment, can you tell why?”

    Looking around, I certainly could. Roses of every color in the rainbow adorned the fences along the road. To my dismay, there were even blue roses—a clear sky blue and a pale pastel blue that was almost white. One house had an arbor covered with grape-purple and snowy-white single-flower roses. And black. Densely petaled charcoal blooms dotted the vibrant palette. It was gaudy and breathtaking at the same time, not to mention fragrant.

    *Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay 

    I stifled a sneeze and blurted “Blue roses? You have blue roses?”

    “Why, yes. Of course. Do you not?”

    “No. We have blue flowers, but true blue is quite rare in Earth’s plant world. And no blue roses of any shade. Black also doesn’t really exist. Most flowers labeled black are actually very deep purple. I’ll have to revisit this stretch later—.”

    My words trailed off as we approached another bridge over the Irilliscint.

    The roses on Rose Street were truly amazing. The residents decreed among themselves that the only flowers allowed along the fences are roses. There can be other plants in beds or pots behind them in the front yard, but only roses along the fences. The homeowners employ individuals with herbaceous plant talents to keep them blooming as long as possible into the winter; indeed, there is a Yule Rose contest. Which speaks more to the ability of the Elemental than the resident. Nevertheless, reputations are made and lost, and relationships forged in this time. I learned about that later on but thought it was appropriate to tell you about here. I would have loved to participate in such a contest, if I had magic, of course.

    *erdur = hour; anar= day; anek = week; anos = month


    Can you picture Rose Street? The picture I used above gives a good idea of the effect, but the roses were their own colors, which made it so much more brilliant. The blue, black, and purple shades captivated me, I couldn’t get over them. I strolled Rose Street whenever I could, it was always changing, and always lifted my spirits. Imagine what other wonders Irillo holds! Let me know some of your ideas below 👇🏼

    Want more from the land of Huphaea? Become a Nightingale! Use the form below to subscribe to Collata⚡ , The Collection of Huphaea newsletter. Can’t wait to see you there!👇🏼

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

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

    Hello Everyone! I’m writing to you today from my ark… We have been in the clutches of a rainy weather pattern for the past two weeks and it is beginning to take a toll. Our heavy clay soil holds water like a sponge, which makes farming very difficult in these conditions. Our corn is only half planted and it may be too late now to get the other half in the ground, if it ever dries out. 🌧🌧🌧😞😞

    How is July treating you? Here’s one for you— I saw Halloween candy in the grocery store this morning. 😧 Seriously? Perhaps it should just become a permanent display, Halloween candy is out more than it’s not! There’s so much that needs to happen between now and Halloween, does it have to be rushed? (Can you tell this is one of my pet peeves?) Anyway, let’s hand it over to Eleanorah and continue the tale, shall we?

    We left off with Elahna having gotten a bit of a talking to by Ivy, but not in a negative way. Ivy was patient with her narrow Earth mindsets, but gave Elahna something to think about as an alternative. Venrood Forest is now behind them and they are closer to the capital city, Irillo, than not. Let’s pick it up there.~


    We stopped briefly to water the horses at a stream that ran alongside a vast pasture that appeared empty.

    Image by Albrecht Fietz from Pixabay 

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

    Image by Steve Bidmead from Pixabay 

    Half a mile further, we were brought to a halt by a large herd crossing the road. All grass-fattened steers to my experienced eye. Out of the blue, a cluster of the beasts broke ranks and surged toward us. Hooves and horns gouged the air in excitement.

    “Oh, shit!” I shouted, wondering if that was a word here. I had heard similar words said with vehemence, I should remember to ask about them.

    Ivy shrieked as well, and I felt my legs clamp around Revel’s sides in near-panic. He tossed his head and wheeled on his back hooves, enough to avoid the foremost steer, then skittered out of the road into the drainage ditch that ran alongside. I just managed to keep my seat on his back by seizing fistfuls of his mane when he reared and squeezing my legs to his shoulders.

    Two red and white dogs streaked down the sides of the road, outpacing the cattle and setting up a boundary in front of them. Within minutes, the dogs had them turned around and trotting back to rejoin the rest of the herd.

    Image by No-longer-here from Pixabay 

    Revel’s ears stopped twitching, as did his shoulder under my knee when I relaxed and settled back on the blanket-saddle. I smoothed his rumpled mane and patted his neck, praising his quick feet and him for staying relatively calm. I spotted Ivy up ahead on the opposite side of the road. A cocoa-skinned man on an equally brown horse faced her.

    I trotted up to them as their conversation continued, with Ivy clearly annoyed. “Ah, they know somewhat’s up. That one with the upturned horns has been on high alert since we grouped all the steers together a few aneks ago. I apologize again, Miss Ivy. You sure you’re all right?”

    “Yes, I’m quite fine, just a bit janked,” She replied. The man winced slightly at her words. “Elahna, are you hurt? Where did you go!”

    “Revel managed to avoid the initial rush and got us into the ditch out of the way. I managed to not fall off. We’re both fine, though. I hate it when cattle do that. All it takes is one with an idea.”

    “Aye, that’s the truth. I’ll bring more dogs with me for the drive tomorrow. It’s off to the finishing fields at my fratris’ for this lot. I won’t hold you lasses any longer. Again, my apologies, and I’m thankful you’re all right. Safe travels.” He nodded and raised his hand in farewell.

    “My thanks, best of luck tomorrow to you. Elements be.” Ivy spurred Felicity into a light canter to get us back on our way.

    I was very thankful Revel was so nimble and that he reacted quickly. I’ve chased plenty of cattle and being in the path of many out on a tear is not advisable. Especially that lead steer the man mentioned, that one had something in mind…

    When she slowed back to a trot about ten minutes later, an intersection was visible ahead. Traffic had picked up the last mile or so and now I could see why. The sounds of other travelers punctuated the air, voices, hooves, and the creaking of wooden wheels.

    Photo by form PxHere

    “Here we are, the Fulcrum Road,” Ivy said, throwing off her bristly air from the cattle encounter. “About dua erdur*, and we’ll be in Irillo. You’ll be able to see the city once we crest the rise over there.” She pointed to the left, the direction most of the traffic was coming from.

    Then she reached up and withdrew an amulet from under her tunic, letting it rest on her chest. It was a replica of the spreading tree emblem I had seen many places at Rosewood Manor. A third of the tree was brown without leaves and the other two thirds were vibrant green with tiny, real leaves. It was enclosed in a circle of forest green and hung on a leather cord.

    Scion Arborea sigil

    “That amulet is lovely. I hadn’t noticed it before. But I saw that tree all over at Rosewood. That looks so real, though.”

    “It’s a scion sigil. Each Seat member has one, we just don’t always display them. And it is real. These are pieces of Rosewood Manor itself, bestowed upon me on my Choosing Day.” She brushed the little leaves with her thumb in illustration. “Let’s go along, shall we?”

    “Of course.”

    Though our pace slowed some out of courtesy to the others on the road, we reached the top of the gentle rise within half an erdur. I gasped aloud at my first sight of the capital city of Irillo.

    It wasn’t large like I am used to, but it was magnificent.

    We were riding into the lowering sun, so the details fuzzed in my vision. Again I thought forlornly of my sunglasses. Glints of light sparkled off the spires Ivy mentioned and off the river in places. Two large complexes towered over the other buildings, one in the center and one further back and to the left. Domes and tall towers characterized these fixtures in a manner foreign to anything I knew or had seen yet in Huphaea. That must be the ancient elven architecture. It was stunning.

    I didn’t have much time to gawk at the city because of the number of carts and travelers on the road with us. We folded into the flow down the the back side of the rise, which was quite a bit steeper than the front. I kept glancing at Ivy, wanting to talk about what I was seeing, but the noise made conversation challenging.

    Just then, the thunderous roll of many hooves moving fast, accompanied by startled shouts and shrieks filled the air. Revel snorted and tossed his head wildly, his eyes rolling and showing white in fear.

    Oh no, I thought, here comes his test.

    I focused my attention on him and guided him further toward the edge of the road, if only to get out of the way. Like you do for an emergency vehicle with its sirens on. Others were doing the same and a lot of the animals behind us appeared spooked or downright terrified. I slipped off Revel and grabbed his bridle, tugging him well away and into the thin border of trees that lined this stretch of road. I turned us to face out and saw Ivy heading through the throng trying to get to us. Felicity appeared rattled as well.

    A party of seisla mounted men in forest green vests and black trousers with green trappings on their horses cantered up the rise. Occasionally one of them barked an oath for someone to move, but it wasn’t cruel, just reinforcing. A copper-haired man rode at the front of the group, his bearing one of almost regality. His short cape was bisected with the same shade of green and burgundy.

    He abruptly reined in, causing his striking silver bay horse to rear slightly and toss its head in annoyance. He nudged the horse in Ivy’s direction and hailed her.

    I couldn’t hear the words exactly, but I did hear him address her by name. She had all she could do to hold onto Felicity, who was tossing her head and hop-skipping around Ivy in an attempt to pull her reins free. Something about him must be what frightens the horses so.

    Then suddenly, Felicity fell quiet and stood placidly by Ivy’s side.

    They finished their conversation and I barely made out his farewell and “I’ll let Zelkova know you will arrive shortly.” He trotted off, the riders following in his wake, but not before I glimpsed a blood red tear drop in the center of his forehead.

    It had to be a tattoo, for the color was so vibrant it could only be ink of some sort. What an odd place for a tattoo. And an odd tattoo. It also must have really hurt.

    He must be someone important, for the way his companions deferred to him. For that matter, the people on the road seemed in awe of him, too. A prince, maybe?

    *anek = week, anar = day, anos = month, anid = year, erdur = hour, dua = two

    I’ll leave it there for this time, bet I piqued your interest, huh? After being on the road alone, or relatively so, the increased traffic was different and I began to get a bit anxious. I was looking forward to exploring Irillo, though, even from this vantage point it was beautiful and interesting. Until next time, then, Elements be!~


    Oooooh, a mysterious man! And why was he spooking the animals? We will find out next time. What do you think about the first glimpse of Irillo? Don’t worry, you will get plenty of description of the city when we get there, it’s truly one of my favorite places ever. Take your guesses about who the mystery man is or why he makes animals afraid below, I’d love to hear your ideas. 👇🏼🤓

    You can join Eleanorah’s tribe, the Nightingales, and get extras from Huphaea in her newsletter, Collata⚡! Fill out the form below and then watch your inbox once a month, usually on the 21st, for the next issue. Come on, join the fun!⬇

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

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

    Hello Everyone! Daylight savings time has ended in my corner of the world, and that means evenings are useful once again! Ostara is around the corner, too, marking equal day and night length. The energy of the season is rather frenzied, my animals are ecstatic to be spending more time outside without ice.

    In other news, I’ve been working on a couple of short stories for contests and an anthology. They are both set in Ereth, I’ll keep you updated on how they do and where you may be able to find them in the future.😉

    The next issue of Collata⚡ comes out this weekend, so if you want to see what being a Nightingale is all about, join us with the link that follows the episode. Hope to see you there!~

    Elahna and Ivy had just made their way upstairs to their rooms at the end of the last episode. That is, after a healing soak in the hot pool and an unexpected proposition. Elahna was surprised and sheepish, Ivy rather unimpressed. What will the morning bring? Let’s find out!~


    *Image by LoggaWiggler from Pixabay

    I woke the next morning to the sounds of creaking and then a splash, which made me sit bolt upright. My head outpaced my body some in the movement and I clasped it to slow the bobbing images, then fell back against the pillow. I hadn’t had cider in some time, apparently Lissa’s batch had more of an effect than I had thought it would. But at least the splash hadn’t been directed at me. I sat up, slower this time, and peered out the open window.

    Below, Scosy was drawing water from the stone well, transferring it into a large wooden cask that sat on a low cart.

    *Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay

    The air was heavier than the evening before with the distinct earthy tang of evergreen forest. Tendrils of ground fog threaded through the tree trunks beyond the inn’s grounds. I fumbled in my discarded clothes for Aymur’s timepiece. It showed being in the fifth erdur. Well, at least I hadn’t overslept.

    I watched as Scosy finished his task, hung the well bucket on a hook next to the winch handle and set off toward the stables with his bounty. It was good to know the horses would be well-tended before we left. Time then to see about myself.

    After a meager breakfast of two glorious slices of toasted homemade bread with butter and some dark fruity jelly, I made a visit to the stables to check on the horses. Scosy hurried in when he saw me enter, a stricken look on his face.

    “I wasn’t sure when ye would be settin’ out, miss, ‘pologies for not havin’ ‘em ready.” He grabbed for Revel’s stall door, but I held up my hand to stay him.

    “Morning Scosy, no need to scramble. Ivy has to look at the center tree, we will be a bit yet. I trust he’s been good for you? No trouble?” I nodded at Revel, who munched contentedly on some extremely fragrant hay.

    “Oh no, miss, he’s been a peach. No trouble at all.” His words trailed off as he shifted to look around me at something outside.

    *Image by こうこう きちでん from Pixabay 

    I turned to see Ivy striding across the yard toward the road and the center tree, I assumed. Scosy didn’t even seem aware of my presence any longer, so I stepped back out of his way. I recalled Lissa’s comment last night about the boy’s infatuation and felt a pang of sadness for him.

    I trailed after Scosy, who lagged well behind Ivy as she strode toward the center tree. It was a magnificent specimen of a planetree. The camouflage colors of olive, gray, cream, white, and sage green cloaked the massive trunk in ribbons of brightness amid the morning shadows. Lissa hurried out the front of the tavern, joining Ivy, who gazed up at the canopy.

    *Image by JamesDeMers from Pixabay 

    A stoutish man in a busy red, black, and green plaid shirt and caramel-colored trousers approached at a determined pace from the upper right of the Shoe. His sleeves were rolled to the elbows and the open buttons of his shirt allowed a forest of dark hair sprinkled with wood shavings to precede him by two inches at least. I had to stifle a giggle behind my hand. The man must be furred like a bear under the shirt, I thought to myself, but then quashed the idea, because what if there were bear-men here? Bigger curls of wood and more shavings clung to the canvas panels tacked onto his trousers above the knees. He must be a finish carver or something, definitely one who works wood with tools, not saw blades.

    He nodded a brusque greeting at Lissa and the few other townsfolk who had gathered, setting the unruly nest of wavy hair on his head bobbing. “Elements be, Miss Ivy, well met. Lissa said you’d be out to have a look at our tree afore you set out. I’m much obliged.” He brushed wood dust off his hand after raising it in greeting.

    “Elements be, Porter. Has there been something ailing the tree recently? It definitely appears less vigorous than I would expect.”

    “We dealt with a bout of anthracnose last anid, but by autumn, it was looking well again.”

    “This tree has a dryad, am I correct?” Heads nodded.

    “But no one’s seen her for a while. The lads have been out in the forest blocks, I just haven’t had a chance to ask them to speak with her.”

    Ivy nodded once in understanding. “I’ll try to get her to come out so I can ask her what she knows.”

    I stepped closer to the gathering, but still on the outside edge, and watched Ivy place her palm against the trunk. After a moment, she stepped back, her gaze following something I couldn’t see. Then she gasped and held both her hands out as if to catch a baby bird.

    I glanced around at the others in the group, whose faces all had tightened with concern. But they looked at Ivy and not her hands, so I surmised they couldn’t see the dryad either.

    Ivy cocked her head slightly and said softly, more for her audience’s benefit than the dryad’s I wagered, “Show me, what ails you and your tree?” Her lips firmed into a line as she studied her hands, then she looked upwards into the canopy. “Is there an air weaver in town that can float me up?” She fixed Porter with eyes that brimmed with urgency. “She is very weak, but she shows me tunnels and chewing. There must be borers somewhere. I need to go up and look.”

    “Ah, yes,” Porter pivoted to face Scosy. “Lad, run and find the Verticx chap. They may not have left for the blocks yet. Hurry!” Scosy jolted into movement, his gangly limbs propelling him down a side lane into the forest. “Is she in any danger?” Porter continued, “Can we do anything?”

    “Do you have an Orderly? Some ginseng would help her vitality. We may need to make poultices to draw the borers out as well.”

    *Image by whaltns17 from Pixabay 

    A woman in a sky blue and pale yellow plaid scurried off up the left leg of the Shoe. Ivy remained focused on her cupped hands, her brow creased with worry.

    I admit, it was strange watching Ivy attend to something I couldn’t see. And honestly, it made me feel a bit better knowing the others couldn’t see the dryad either. I knew that Lissa had some wood magic though, and I assumed Porter did as well, so there must be a threshold of ability that allowed someone to see the dryads. I did wish to see what one looked like.

    No, at that point I wasn’t sure what the nature of the dryad-tree bond was, but I did ask Ivy later when we were underway. Dryads live in and on their trees, and they take on some aspects of them as their appearance. She said this dryad had skin that mirrored the tree’s, but that it was brittle and flaky and had become a slate gray instead of multi-colored. The creature’s hair was dry and crumbly and she felt slack like a wilted stem. I could tell she was very concerned for the dryad, but honestly felt that the ginseng root the woman returned with would help her immensely.

    Scosy returned in half an hour or so with a silver-haired man who had very long pointed ears, the most elf-like ears I had seen yet. He was fairly tall, and very slight, but somehow managed to take up space within the gathered crowd. Ivy greeted him and told him what she needed. He smiled, nodding in agreement, and made a circular motion with his hand, the palm facing downward. A sharp breeze sprang up and the loose dirt and pebbles in front of him began to spiral around. Next thing I saw was Ivy step up into air, but obviously onto something. The elf joined her, and they rose straight up toward the branches, some sixty feet above. I bit my tongue to keep from drawing attention to myself.

    They spent about ten minutes aloft, circling the trunk and examining three areas closely. Ivy confirmed the presence of borers and a secondary infestation of lacebug when she landed. She said the trunk was weeping in the three places she and Leverett had lingered at and prescribed poultices of tobacco leaves to be applied every few days, making sure the mash filled the tunnels.

    “Leave a piece of ginseng root out for the dryad every tertia or quarta anar* for the next anos too. Whoever goes up with Leverett can also spray the lacebug with a soap solution. Just to lessen the pressure on the tree so it can heal. Send word to Aymur for him to visit in seisla aneks and check progress. I’ll recheck it on my return from Irillo as well. Hopefully I can perform some bark healing on the wound sites then.”

    “Many thanks, Ivy. We will see it all gets done. Safe travels to Irillo, and give Sawyerset’s regards to the Regna. Elements be.” Porter ambled away back up the road, wood shavings littering his wake.

    We returned to the tavern with Lissa to gather our belongings and say our farewells. She stood, shaking her head with a wry grin on her face, watching her son bustle about our mounts in the stable yard when we alighted from the back stairway. “Ah Ivy, you’ve saddled me with a mournful puppy for the rest of th’ anar. Look at him, his feet ‘ave barely touched the ground since you told him to make ready. You sure you don’t want ‘im to tag along, you’d only have to say the word.” I heard the mirth, but also the concern in her remark.

    Ivy started to reply but Lissa cut her off with a waved hand, “I do jest with ye. He’ll be ‘imself again on the morrow. I do wish he had more of my wood skills, but evidently not so. Sawyerset isn’t the place for ‘im. The horses is what he gravitates toward, I’ll have to put out a word for him. Maybe some bigger inn could use a stable hand and he could work his way up. Quindecca isn’t too young to be settin’ himself up for later on.”

    “I could ask when I’m in Irillo. Perhaps even inquire in Forelore’s stables. I can vouch for him, so that is more than a blind query.”

    “Would ye do that? I’d be much obliged to you. And I won’t breathe a word to Scosy unless there’s something for him.”

    “Of course, I’ll report back on my return, or send a message if there is something before. Do you think he’d be willing to go at any point?”

    ‘Oh, I’m sure he would. If he could work in a busy stable, my boy would be right at home. Almost as happy as seein’ you.” We all shared a laugh and a smile, said our thanks, and parted ways at the kitchen door.

    Let’s leave off here for today. In case you are wondering, Ivy did indeed find a place for Scosy, in Forelore’s stables no less. They were happy to have another hand with horse ability on staff. I saw him at one point out in Irillo as part of a foal training unit. He seemed very content and at home. Lucky boy, but I’m sure Lissa missed him. And it was good to know Ivy was true to her word.

    *anek = week, anar = day, anos = month, anid = year


    I’m sure there are many arborists out there who would love to have levitating abilities to diagnose tree canopy issues. I was impressed with that, for sure. It was also interesting that we have the same problems with planetrees and sycamores here that the Center Tree suffered from. But no dryads. Poor Scosy, though, I thought about saying something, but I didn’t want to get involved. Would you have said anything? Have you been in a similar situation and not done anything? Drop a comment below about your experience or let me know how your spring is going 😀. See you next time!~

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  • The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #21

    Hello Everyone! Hope you are all keeping well with the difficult weather parts of the US are experiencing right now. The Northeast is used to the snow and freezing temps each winter, I can only imagine how difficult it is to deal with when the infrastructure isn’t designed to handle it. Feel free to send it back this way, where it belongs, we could use some more in my opinion 🤔. February is moving along and we are approaching the year anniversary of lockdown here. It’s actually an odd feeling, to think that it’s only been a year—it feels like ten. Before we know it, the trees will be budding and the Easter bunny will be hopping around, though he already appears to have visited the stores… The Easter candy was out three weeks before Valentine’s Day! But anyway, we should get back to the story after my unplanned hiatus. Stay strong and healthy, spring is on the way!~

    We last left the ladies, Ivy and Elahna, in Sawyerset at The Tarnished Blade Inn. The innkeeper had just instructed them to not dawdle in returning to the dining room, as it was filling up quickly. Shall we rejoin them?~


    Returning to our setting

    I must have stood gazing a second or two too long, as Ivy touched me on the shoulder. “Come on, you heard Lissa, we’d better be quick or we’ll be standing.”

    A few heads turned and watched us ascend the stairs, but not in an overly concerned manner. The second floor was a warren of rooms extending off the main hallway that wound the length of the building, much like the random table arrangement in the room below. Though the room placement seemed haphazard though, I decided it was actually carefully planned to maximize space and the number of rooms. “The corner room is my usual, yours is right here. This stair goes to behind the bar and out to the wash building, that’s why Lissa always holds it for me.” Ivy put a hand on her doorknob, “Meet you back in an erd?”

    “Yeah, sure.” I pushed open my door and stepped into a tidy, yet welcoming space just big enough to be called a room. It held a single bed, a low dresser, a chair, and a small round table arranged around a long, oval, emerald green rug. The curtains matched the hue of the rug. I slung my bag onto the bed and looked out the window over the back of the tavern. A blocky structure jutted out from the main building, which must be the kitchen that Lissa disappeared into, and a smaller, thatch-roofed building stood further back but directly behind our rooms. A thin trail of smoke rose from a central chimney and people entered or exited from either end. The wash house? I surmised I was about to find out.

    *Photo by form PxHere

    I turned to head back out to meet Ivy, just as she stepped in. “Oh, this is so cute, will it suit you?” I nodded. “Good, grab that linen and let’s go wash up quick. I don’t know about you, but I feel quite dusty.” She held a ruby red towel and a round of light pink soap. I did suddenly feel quite gritty, though I hadn’t noticed much dust on the ride.

    After I pulled the door closed, Ivy reached out and drew a finger across the door frame and the jamb in three places, sealing the door closed with strips of gnarly wood. I gave her what I hoped was a questioning look and she shrugged as she turned. “Not that I don’t trust Lissa and Beren, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. It will keep the curious and inebriated out, at least. I’m not sure if news of your identity has beaten us here or not. But it won’t be long if it hasn’t.”

    That was the first time I had witnessed anyone take any precautions whatsoever. Somehow, it made me feel a bit more at ease. Not having to be aware of those around me had been unsettling, when I allowed myself to think about it. And though Ivy was an Elemental, her powers were of an arboreal nature, and I wasn’t sure how much protection that could provide if necessary. She’d just grown ‘tree tape’ but could she grow a wooden shield or knife if we needed it? Come to think of it, at this point, I didn’t even know what her ability was. I decided to ask that, casually, if the opportunity presented itself. It all just made me think more and more of the fictional worlds I so loved. And it appeared I had stumbled into one, literally.

    The wash building turned out to be more like an outhouse with a steam room built in. A bench of latrine places, separated with three-foot tall dividers lined one wall and a screen of translucent silk painted in a mountain scene divided it from the steaming stone pool that was sunken into the floor. My jaw dropped open at the bubbling bath, it looked so inviting! A couple of stone basins stuck out from the wall alongside the pool and Ivy was already soaking her cloth under the tap.

    “I’d love to get into that, I don’t feel saddle sore, but that would definitely help prevent it.” I nodded toward the pool, as I tried to figure out how to make water flow from the single pipe that bent into the basin.

    Ivy reached over me and pressed her thumb into a depression in the stone wall. Water began to flow, slightly warm, over the cloth in my hands. I deduced then how to adjust the temperature and the volume using the depressions I could now pick out on the wall and the tap. “That does sound like an excellent idea. As long as we don’t fall too far into our cups at dinner,” she gave me a lopsided smile.

    “Oh, don’t worry about that with me. I have no desire to have a big head on a horseback ride. That would be pure torment.” I shook my head vehemently, remembering how I woke up in Raga’s tent that first morning. “I’m good.”

    We finished up a quick toilette. The pink soap was smooth and fragrant like a bouquet of fresh roses with a rich lather. When Ivy wrung her linen out, I was astonished at how much water she extracted. The cloth was nearly dry! I did the same to my own, and by the time we reached our rooms again, it WAS dry. No real need for drying racks as such, I thought. Remarkable.

    I slowed my pace a bit when we retraced our steps downstairs, taking in the scene that unfolded as I rounded the staircase. The crowd had increased, along with the din of upbeat conversation. Tankards decorated tabletops next to brawny, tanned arms amid a sea of colorful plaids. Ivy paused with a few steps to go, looking for an empty table I assumed, but Lissa’s exuberant wave drew my attention. She beckoned us to a small table against the opposite wall where she stood minding a tray of food and a chilled pitcher.

    *Image by 6557056 from Pixabay

    “Here you are, game hen stew and a pitcher of fresh sparkly. Everything to your liking upstairs? Anything else you need, just wave me over. Gotta run just now, enjoy!” Once again, Lissa snaked off into the growing crowd, calling out orders as she entered the kitchen. Ivy and I exchanged an arch look and then laughed in unison.

    “I couldn’t have gotten a word in sideways if I’d had to!” I said.

    “I know! Once the crowd settles in, though, she’ll visit with a tankard of her own. Lissa can drink level with any of the sawyers. I’d even put her up against someone with rock troll blood and put my wager on her. She and Beren built this tavern themselves, including milling the timber. Beren was a sawyer previously and Lissa’s whole family are, she grew up in a mill. She can horse-whisper, and was responsible for the mill horses, but she loves working with wood. Most of the interior is her work.”

    The two tiny birds steaming in thick broth with carrots, peas, onions, and potatoes was difficult to ignore up to that point. Naturally, once Ivy mentioned Lissa’s work, I had to look around and see what she meant.

    Photo by form PxHere

    Many of the tables, including ours, were made of entire round slabs of tree trunk, bark and all. Varnish sealed the tops in a thick layer as clear as glass. The bar counters were of the same idea, the rough live bark edges worn almost smooth by thirsty patrons. The more I looked, the more unique details I picked out—finial carvings on the support columns, the bannister scroll work on the spiral stair, different fluting on the legs of the tables and chairs, wood burning and etching around the windows. Personal touches that gave the tavern a welcoming, lived-in atmosphere. Then my mind snagged on something else she had said.

    “What’s a rock troll?”

    “I wondered if you’d caught that.” Ivy’s green eyes sparkled with delight. “There aren’t many, if any, here in Huphaea. But they are a large, resilient people who live in mountainous areas on other continents. At least on Iacewen, that I know of. They don’t have any magic of their own and have been known to capture women to try to infuse magic into their population. It doesn’t ever work that way, but some rock trolls keep trying anyway. Almost like they forget about the results.”

    “You make it sound scientific, like its an experiment.”

    “I don’t know that odd s-word you said, but I suppose it could be described that way, like an experiment. Or even a game to some of them. The rock troll tribe always loses, because the half-troll individual is either turned out when no magic appears, or they leave of their own accord to find more developed societies.”

    “That doesn’t sound like an intelligent approach.”

    “Intelligence isn’t a rock troll specialty. Fortuantely, most of the true half-trolls gain in that way from their non-troll parent. That’s why they all leave the cave towns.”

    “I see. So that blood confers some ability to hold a lot of drink, I take it? Would you be able to tell someone had rock troll blood just by looking at them?”

    “Sometimes. Those with rock troll blood are usually larger in physical stature, with a greyish hue to their skin. But both can diminish as the bloodline dilutes and there are plenty of people with larger builds, as we see.” Being in a mill town, we were surrounded by large-framed individuals in that room alone. “The only trait that gives any rock troll lineage away is gray eyes. No other race has gray eyes, so if you meet someone with gray eyes, they have enough rock troll blood to matter. And don’t challenge them to a drink-off.” She grinned again as she filled two flagons from the frosty pitcher.

    “I’ll remember that. Certainly.”

    We fell into silence for a bit, making forays into the stew with deep-bowled wooden spoons and hearty dark brown bread. The cider was crisp and on the sweeter side, but quite refreshing and it complemented the stew perfectly. I noticed the number of glances and nods in our direction increasing with the influx of patrons. I began to wonder if I was about to become a sideshow to the night’s revelry.

    In general, I’m not one to go about attracting attention, so this situation made me uneasy. However, I wasn’t facing a sea of hostile faces, just curious ones that probably mirrored my own. I decided that this evening was no different than any of the others I had spent in foreign countries back home. At least here I could speak the language, mostly. I used that thought as an anchor and screwed up my confidence. After all, we were all humans or elves or some combination thereof with the common threads of curiosity and, I imagine, speculation. Probably nothing would happen anyway.

    Thoroughly satiated on stew, I slid my bowl to the end of the table, wondering what would come next. Should we vacate the table for other dining patrons and find a place along the wall at the drink rail if we intended to stay? My eyes flicked up to Ivy, seeking a cue from her, but she sat calmly finishing her stew and tidying the tableware.

    Lissa appeared a moment later with a mousy-haired girl of about nine (or nova) in tow, a heavily carved tankard in her hand. She indicated to the girl to clear the dishes away and snagged an empty stool from a table across the aisle.

    Image by prenzberger from Pixabay

    The men at the table leaned out and around each other to sling good-natured barbs at Lissa and soon we were all laughing together.

    After some hasty introductions and small talk about the day, Lissa turned back to our table and hunched conspiratorially over her tankard, her eyes alighting on me. “So, tell me, what was it like to realize you aren’t where you belong? Was it as janked as I imagine it would be? Was the travel frightening?”

    “I, ah, well, if you mean was it odd, then no. One second I was walking forward into an old stone structure, the next I was in a different one. That’s all it was. No falling, or darkness, or stretching, or voices, or light. It was just a step like any other. Only it wasn’t.” I had been expecting some questions at some point, but not this particular one. Lissa seemed disappointed almost, but she recovered quickly, firing off more questions until she appeared satisfied and her tankard was empty.

    “I should go check on Beren and the lads, hold my stool? I’ll bring another pitcher, no?”

    “Sure, but only if you bring some apple crunch with it. I’ve been dreaming of it all day, I even saved room for it, and here you’ve made me wait without even a mention of it!” Ivy sagged back in her chair, a dramatic pout on her face for a few seconds before she winked at me.

    “Pssshaaww! And you knew I’d make it special for you, Miss Ivy, didn’t you? As if my sontris’d let me forget you were a’comin’!” Lissa jumped up from the table, feigned offense crumbling into laughter. “Mark my words, you’ll wake up one morning t’ find my Scosy underneath your branch there at Rosewood, waiting on your wishes. I’ll be back in an erdin with your crunch and cider, my lady,” and she swept a mocking bow in Ivy’s direction, mirth plastered on her face.

    Ivy pealed into laughter, but her face turned a shade of delicate rose pink in the wake of Lissa’s words. Smiles blossomed on the faces of the men across the aisle, who had obviously been listening to Lissa’s line of questioning and my replies. They knew who I was for certain now. Ivy righted herself and traced her fingers around the rim of the tankard. “I do hope that doesn’t come to pass. But wait until you have her apple crunch. It is fabulous.”

    I was pretty sure I couldn’t fit another bite, but the steaming apple crunch in the crock and bowl of fresh whipped cream Lissa returned with was too tempting to pass up.

    Image by FlitsArt from Pixabay

    Lissa helped polish it off, thankfully, along with the pitcher of cider. The conversation turned to local matters and news of individuals both women had in common. At one point, Lissa inquired about Aymur almost shyly, which was so out of character that I picked up on it right away. “He is well,” Ivy answered. “Grandess Daphne keeps him busy lately since she injured her ankle. No doubt she summoned the Orderly first thing now that he is back. He was probably gathering herbs for poultices when we passed him. Unclen will be eager to see her well and back to administering. He is far too used to having his own time most days.”

    “Ah, that’s why he hasn’t been by lately. Some of the lads said they could use his talent in the spruce grove. The gall aphids are winding up fierce this year, they wanted a bit of reinforcement from him. Speaking of which, before you go, you should examine the center tree. It hasn’t leafed as quickly as usual and one of the young ones said they could see some sap oozing way up toward the crown. Perhaps you could help? I’m sure if Porter comes in he’ll ask ye to, but here then, you’ve already been made aware.”

    “Of course I will, in the morning before we depart.” Ivy glanced at me. “Still in want for a stone bath soak? After all this food and talk I admit it sounds like a good way to cap the evening, and ensure a good night’s sleep.”

    “Absolutely! It would be a perfect end, yes.”

    “Right then, I’ll leave you ladies to it, my thanks for the updates, Ivy. Tell Aymur to pop in next time he’s round. I’ll leave two bathing sheets by the back door, grab them on your way to the bathhouse. I’ll be in at first light if you want breakfast, but don’t rush on account of me. It’s my early day. Elements be, then, g’tag.”

    “Oh, you’ll probably see Unclen before I do, I’ll be in Irillo for a while. Sounds perfect though, thank you. Elements be, Lissa, g’tag.”

    Was every meal I ate delicious, you ask? Yes! I honestly can’t think of one thing I did not like, which is highly unusual for me. Oh yes, I was super curious about that little exchange about Aymur. Lissa certainly seemed fond of him by the way she talked, she actually softened somewhat. I never did ask about her horse whispering ability, but I imagine it was as you would expect, without mind magic or Sentients. I’ll stop here for this segment. The night can continue next time!~


    The Tarnished Blade sure sounds like a fun place to spend an evening, right? Do you enjoy places like that? I did before going to Huphaea, and definitely did while I was there. I was lucky enough to be in respectable establishments during my stay. Our position as Collectors would not allow anything less since it was realm business. I did hear about some rather unsavory places in Irillo, though, through the gossip channels. Let me know your tavern experiences in the comments below!

    Remember to subscribe to Collata ⚡, the Collection of Huphaea newsletter. There will be a new issue out soon, so jump on board! Become a Nightingale and get extras and outtakes from the land of Huphaea delivered to your inbox once a month. You can sign up here 👇🏼

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  • The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #20

    Hello Everyone! We’ve reached episode 20, can you believe it? It feels like a milestone to me, considering I wasn’t sure I could sustain a schedule with life, dogs, other work, and (little did we know) a pandemic. But I’m glad I have, it has been fun so far and I hope you are enjoying it as well 😊. Winter presses on in this neck of the woods, we actually had some snow overnight. It should be a given here in New England, but not as much as when I was young, it seems. But my dogs are happy this morning and that is all that really matters, right? Here’s hoping all is well with you, and let’s get back to Eleanorah’s tale. You can also follow her on Twitter at @EleanorahStarr and loads of other authors too! #TeaserTuesday is a popular place to hangout ✍🏼.

    We last left the travelers in the aftermath of a discussion about magic inheritance, who is called what, and Elahna was pondering her position in the society should she have to stay. She had just concluded she would be at the very bottom, as an Ungifted. No real surprise, really, but still something to be aware of nonetheless. Let’s rejoin them on the road, shall we?~


    Approaching Sawyerset. *Photo by PxHere

    Shouts of a semi-raucous nature tore the forest quiet we had subsided into after the inheritance discussion. I jumped in my own skin, though Revel barely flinched. “Sawyerset’s millmen.” Ivy said, gesturing off to the right and slightly ahead of us. “It’s a bit late to be sending a barge downriver to Cragbend now, they must be tying it off until morning. No doubt they are eager for the end of the day.”

    “We’re almost there, then?” I asked, and then mentally slapped myself. I could see the trees thinning as we progressed and the shapes of buildings materializing in the resultant space. Faint tendrils of roasting meat aromas, pine shavings, and wet earth trailed through the air. The prospect of another new place, different people, and more questions to answer set off flutters of anticipation in my chest. It was a welcome sensation that made me smile. I’d learned much on the ride today, yet I was hungry for more.

    Sawyerset nestled into the northern fringe of Venrood Forest. Unlike Cragbend, select trees had been spared the axe throughout the town so that the buildings nestled in among the broad trunks. The branch canopies had been limbed up quite high to allow sunshine in, I imagined, and perhaps some cover from precipitation. Not much for crops was going to grow in the grove, though, without some magical help.

    Shade plants must love this, I mused as we rode down the main street, and was delighted to see many of my favorite perennials filling up gardens and borders alongside colorful containers of impatiens, lobelia, torenia, and fuschias.

    The bright colors of the flowers adorned cottages and shops constructed entirely of wood. Intricate planking patterns and the species of tree the boards were milled from provided the distinguishing features of the buildings in place of paint. I marveled at alternating herringbone patterns, diagonals, and several variations of Tudor-style using different woods.

    *Photo by form PxHere

    Rooflines and front fences were adorned with elaborate carvings and patterns, and here and there I saw stained window casings or fascia boards. It was colorful in an understated way that inspired comfort, warmth, and above all, hard work.

    The broad, packed-earth road carved a wide horseshoe through the town, with smaller lanes trailing away toward the thicker forest. Most of the townsfolk must live off these paths as I glimpsed only a few cottages that appeared to be actual dwellings and not merchants of some sort. The middle of the horseshoe was dominated by a giant planetree, its patchy white, gray, and green bark visible from any point.

    *Photo by form PxHere

    Awnings dyed in bright and varied hues announced the market that filled the western half of the field, while the eastern half contained a clock tower, a well, and a fountain surrounded by woodland plants of every sort. Market-goers were wrapping up the day’s purchasing and gossip, and the stall-owners were packing their carts to head for home, or the pub on the way there. Everything I observed and sensed told me that this was a very close knit community, aware of every event that took place inside its bounds. Small-town camaraderie at its finest.

    “We have rooms reserved at The Tarnished Blade,” Ivy said. “It sits at the bottom right of the bend in the Shoe. This road is named the Horseshoe, but everyone refers to it as the Shoe. Directions are given in relation to the place on the Shoe, and relative to the center tree, in case you were wondering.” She flashed me a wise sort of grin. I couldn’t help but laugh some in return. Evidently my curiosity had made an impression on her today.

    At the location she described stood a two-story tavern. It was constructed in a Tudor-esque style that paired a silver-gray wood with the framing details in another lumber of fine-grained, dark brown. The contrast of the two colors made the gray shine like a pewter mirror in the fading light of the evening. The second story kept the dark framing of the first floor, but had wide, bright, tongue-and-groove boards diagonally set instead. I noticed each window had different colored curtains in jewel tones, creating the effect of a gem-encrusted belt cinching a pale robe. Warm, golden light spilled out of the many diamond-paned windows along with hearty laughter and scents from the open doors. Half of a sawmill blade was sunk perpendicular into the door frame well above head height, painted scarlet red with blackened tooth tips. Of course, why not use the real thing for a sign?

    I dismounted in the small stableyard out back, doing a similar light jig to the one in the forest to restore feeling to my feet. I tried to keep Revel between me and the pedestrians, but he evidently found my dance amusing and did his own version to draw attention to us. A lanky boy strolled in our direction, a wide grin blooming on his face. I picked up Revel’s reins and murmured, “Oh, you are a cheeky one, aren’t you?” as I scratched his ears.

    “Long ride today, miss? Oh, Elements be, Miss Ivy, nice t’ see you again. Yes, I’d imagine saddle foot’s got ya, if you’ve been from Cragbend? Here, lemme take thems for you. I’ve stalls prepped for ’em since Mam said you’d be with us for a night. Wat’s this one, he’s a sharp one, eh?” The grinning boy reached for both of our reins, looking Revel over as though he might sprout wings or devil horns.

    “Elements be, Scosy, many thanks. You may remember Felicity, and that there is Revel. He’s young, but he shouldn’t give you any trouble. He can be a bit of a sprat though, as you see. They have had a long, but excellent ride today. Make sure they get a good rubdown and extra oats, will you?” Ivy favored the youth with a wide smile, and he colored pink up to the points of his ears. She unlatched her bags from the saddle and turned toward the inn. I slapped Revel’s rump lightly as he pranced away and followed Ivy.

    We reached the side door through an alley way of stacked casks and crates and stepped into my imagination. The Tarnished Blade was every bit the tavern I had pictured in my mind, even more so than The Cleft Barrel had been back in Cragbend.

    To our right, a lengthy bar of various heights stretched two-thirds of the way to the far wall. A very tall, yet broad-shouldered older man leaned on his elbows from behind the bar, deep in conversation with a patron. His eyes registered our entrance and his hand shot up into the air in greeting, though his conversation never paused. A plump woman burst through the set of swinging doors then, two wide, steaming bowls clutched in towels in her hands. She turned our way, nodded and smiled in greeting before confidently winding through the scattered furniture and depositing the bowls on a table that sat four men in light button-down shirts of the same plaid. She slung the towels over her shoulder and approached us, and I realized what I had taken for plump was actually stout and strong. She would have looked normal in a plaid shirt as well.

    “Ivy, Elements be! Perfect timing, as usual. Right before the dinner rush.” The woman’s raised hand greeting turned into a quick, affectionate hug, which Ivy returned, and then she was steering us toward an intricately worked spiral stair at the back of the room. “Take your things up, its rooms septa and octa in the far corner, they’ll be the quietest. Then have a wash, if you like, and grab a table. I’ll ferry over some stew and cider when I see ya come in. But don’t dawdle, it’ll fill up quick on a fine night like this. The mill’s lads’ll be wantin’ their ale!” And then she was gone, back through the kitchen doors for more orders, I supposed.

    This is a good place to stop for today, the evening in The Tarnished Blade deserves its own episode. I just may put that out next week instead of waiting a week! I still marvel now at how perfect the taverns were to my imagination. To this day, I miss them. They were true community places no matter where I was in the land.~


    Elahna is now a whole day closer to the capital and her situation has a bit more meaning for her. Would you be able to be as composed as she is, in her position? Comment below and let’s talk about it!

    If you are enjoying the episodes, why not become a Nightingale? Join Eleanorah’s troupe and get extras and exclusives delivered to your inbox only once a month. Find out more about this fantastic world firsthand!

    ©2021 Eleanorah Starr and Quill & Orb Press. All Rights Reserved.

  • The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #18

    Hello Everyone! Happy last day of 2020! Whew, it has been one crazy, long, convoluted trip of a year. It will be a relief to turn the page and begin writing “2021” on everything.

    How was your December holiday, whichever one you celebrate? To be honest, it was a quiet, very subdued Christmas and Christmas Eve here.

    My brother, who I share a house with, tested positive for COVID-19 on the 13th, and just when he would have been cleared to come out of quarantine, my nephew tested positive as well, the Monday before Christmas. It was a lot of passing food from down here to them via an outside table, and heavily disinfected gift exchanges. Symptoms have been very light to non-existent for both of them, very thankfully, and the rest of us here have been negative. We have been fortunate, and it left us with a Christmas we won’t easily forget.

    I hope you are safe and healthy where you are, with a fun plan to ring in the new year! Me, well, I’ll be sleeping, early mornings aren’t as conducive to late nights anymore, and my dogs are insistent 😆. But I have a great book picked out for the evening!

    Ok, enough about reality, let’s get back to the fantasy, right? Happy New Year! Do better 2021!

    Elahna and Ivy were heading down the lane away from Rosewood when we last left them, let’s rejoin them as they head through Cragbend.~


    *Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

    The little town was just getting moving as Ivy and I headed toward Venrood Forest.

    The healer was out in his gardens, harvesting and weeding. He raised a palm in greeting as we passed.

    *Photo by pablopablo90 form PxHere

    The early morning sun cloaked everything in a golden hue. Townsfolk were loading wagons with goods and produce to take to the market, and the sounds of bells on the mill horses’ harnesses signaled the start of the sawyers’ day.

    I knew this trip through the forest would be much different than the previous one. But that wasn’t a bad thing, either.

    Revel and Felicity settled into an easy trot that gave Ivy and me the ability to still talk. She seemed a bit withdrawn, so I tried to re-lighten the mood by picking up the conversation again.

    “How come Lignan didn’t just come with you to Irillo? Is the city a bad place for a boy?”

    “Oh no, not at all. He came with me anid-last, and his patris collected him on the way home in Illedale. He travels well. Egan has a surprise for him this time, though. A horse of Lignan’s own for his name day gift. He has outgrown Ebony this past anid, he has put on some height. It was Egan’s idea to bring the new horse up with him to collect Lignan, that way they would have the whole ride back to Spark Island to get acquainted. I wish I was there to see his face, he will be thrilled.”

    *Photo by form PxHere

    “Aww, that’s so sweet. How far is it to Spark Island?”

    “It’s tertia to quarta anar south to Flame Harbor, then they have to take ship over to the island. They should make pretty good time with dua strong horses, though. It is much needed time together for them. Egan will see how much work Lignan needs to do with his emotions. His Spark-ness is revealing itself more and more.”

    “Daphne said much the same thing about his letter yesterday.” She shot me a narrowed look. “Are Sparks dangerous or something?”

    “Oh, yes. His plea letter. I apologize for that. I’m afraid I do coddle him some to keep the impulsiveness under wraps, but it doesn’t always work. They aren’t dangerous, as in evil, but they are fire-strong, so they tend toward quick decisions, rash judgments, fast action, dramatic emotions, that sort of thing. I found it impossibly alluring when I first met Egan, he was all heat and motion, very different from the placid coolness of the trees and forest. I only learned better once Lignan came along. Then I made sure my dual child was of a more tranquil nature. Lignan is a bright light, he just needs some instruction, that’s all.”

    “How long will he be gone? You and Egan don’t live together, ever?”

    Ivy turned and cocked her head at me, “No, why would we live together? I’m an Arborea, I belong in Rosewood, and Egan belongs at Scorchpoint. Rosewood won’t even allow him inside. It could never work.” She actually looked mildly horrified at the thought. “Do you live with the patris of your children?”

    It was my turn to be awkward then. “No, but I don’t have kids, either. But most people in my world do live together as families, parents with children, that is. They raise the children together.”

    “We raise ours within the matris’ house. Everyone in the Seat contributes to their upbringing until they reach nova, then they petition the House that fits their abilities. If it is not the same Seat they grew up in, they then leave and become part of the new Seat.”

    “But it is always through the mother’s, oh sorry, matris’ line? Does a child ever go live with their patris’ family?”

    “Only in the case of a paterif, or line jumper, and they are quite uncommon.”

    “That is fascinating.” I grinned. A society not inclined toward a patriarchy! Finally, someone realized the logic in maternal heredity and they weren’t afraid of it. I could definitely live here!

    *Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash

    I was completely enthralled with the idea of a matriarchal society, and I wondered if the human land Maarran worked the same way. It sort of had to, I imagined, since they were two halves of the same continent. And Daphne did say they intermingled freely. I was losing my desire to return home really fast.

    We talked on, and I learned that Ivy’s dautris was with her patpa in a town in Maarran called Duskreach, the home of the Fairmoon scion. (Which also answered my unspoken question—the human country Maarran was matriarchal as well.) The Seat name was Mesonox, and she described it like it was a permanent planetarium, it sounded truly celestial.

    *Photo by form PxHere

    The girl was beginning to exhibit talent with night-blooming plants and fungi even though she was only quarta. I could tell Ivy was apprehensive about this, and then she confirmed it when she said they would be making a trip next anid to Violetmere to introduce the girl to that Seat’s gardens and hothouses, which contained such species. She was already preparing mentally for her dautris’s departure in quinta anids.

    No where in this discussion of children and families had the word marriage come up, but I decided to leave that alone for the moment. Ivy seemed to need some topic re-direction, or perhaps a bit of time to regroup.

    I turned my attention to Revel, patting his sleek gray neck. I remembered this stretch of farmland from my ride with the Bluebirds, and noticed new stacks of hay in the fields and rows ready for gathering. A herd of large, chocolate brown cattle grazed in a lush pasture along the road, barely lifting their heads at our passing.

    We met several freeholders on their way to Cragbend, one with a barred cart of squealing piglets behind his produce wagon. Both horses flattened their ears at the ruckus and quickened their pace for about a quarter of a mile to leave it well behind.

    Despite Kaval’s misgivings, I was finding the half-saddle, stirrups and blanket combination to be quite comfortable. I found it amusing to be riding in sandals as well, remembering my riding instructor when I was twelve and her insistence on shoes with heels to prevent my feet from sliding through the stirrups. This way felt much more natural. I could be a seamless part of Revel’s effortless strides.

    We were approaching the edges of the forest when Ivy spoke again. “You must have so many questions, Elahna. I was just thinking to myself what it would be like to know nothing about this place we are riding through, yet being sent to Irillo to try to find out how to get back to your home. Is it frightening at all? Is your world very different? Do you miss it?”

    I smiled at her, wanting to say something to continue the conversation, but my mind was a tumble of differences, better-thans, gripes, and misgivings. I settled for simple answers to start with.

    “I do have questions. Many, many questions, but I can’t just ask them all up front. I’m enjoying learning as I go. I was nervous, certainly, when the Bluebirds first found me, but their warm, casual manner made me forget about it. My time with your, well, at Rosewood, has been just as supportive and welcoming. I am surprised and happy that everyone I have met so far has been willing to talk, or explain what I don’t know. Including you. It wouldn’t necessarily be that way in my world, on Earth. Well, not in my country, at least. Yes, my world is very different.”

    *Photo by form PxHere

    “I’ve heard it said that your world doesn’t have magic. Is that true? How do you get things done if there is no magic?” Ivy was settling into herself now. I would be glad for the full bottle of fruity smoothie to whet my throat.

    We passed from the fragrances of freshly cut hay and sun-dried stacks into the scents of woodland moss and leaves. The dappled shade of the road nearer the trees offered some relief from the brilliance of the sunlight. My eyes were stinging and burning like I had been looking into LED headlights for hours. Sunglasses. I did wish I had my sunglasses.

    *Photo by Herbert Goetsch on Unsplash

    “That’s right, we don’t have magic like here, but we do have something called technology. It’s based on sciences and allows us to do most anything we need to. My world is vastly different from yours here. I don’t know if I can describe it to you.”

    I struggled a bit with what to say here because I didn’t want to belittle the beautiful place I was in. Honestly, I was hoping she wouldn’t ask me to explain in detail, but if she wanted to know specifics, I would do the best I could. And probably end up with a headache for it.

    I’ll pick up with my reply next time, this is a good place to stop for now. Hooray for getting underway! Irillo, here we come!~


    The first part of the journey has already yielded one of the most important facts about Huphaean society—it is matriarchal. Elahna obviously loves that fact, what would you think? Drop a comment below and let me know what you think about Elahna’s discoveries today. And there’s much more to come!

    Remember to subscribe to Eleanorah’s newsletter Collata⚡ to get behind the story bits and fun facts that aren’t shared in the posts. Sometimes it’s deeper explanations of topics and other times it’s totally new stuff. It’s always extra, though. Use the button below to reach the sign-up page and become a Nightingale today!

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  • The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #17

    Hello Everyone! Wow! It’s been a while since the last episode, but if you saw the MIA post, you will know why 😉. But there is creative work to be done, so I am pushing ahead to regain a posting schedule once again. I hope this missive finds you safe, healthy, and looking forward to a festive holiday season. 🎄🕎❄🎅🏼

    We last left Elahna slumbering in her rooms in Rosewood the night before she is to embark on the journey to Irillo. She is supposed to meet Ivy Arborea in the kitchens “sometime after seisla.” Let’s pick up the story there and see what the morning has in store for her.~


    Photo by form PxHere

    Morning dawned bright and crisp. I opened my eyes to the insistent, musical notes of a purple martin singing on the branch outside my window. He remained there, peering in at me as he trilled, until I swung my feet to the floor; then he disappeared in a flash of indigo, his task complete. I smiled, shaking my head as I opened the pocket watch and checked the time—just after 5, well, quinta.

    “Thank you, Rosewood, that was the loveliest alarm to wake up to.”

    The leaf shutters rustled in answer. I stretched and began my routine and preparations to leave.

    Rosewood, somehow, was much warmer than Alexa or Siri, or any of the AI’s we have now, even though I suppose it was potentially more pervasive. I can’t quite describe it, but I was never disturbed that the manse could potentially know anything I did. There was no creepiness of being spied upon or listened in on, it just was. Right there is a statement—it all has to do with intent, doesn’t it?

    The yellow stones, (sapphires maybe?), led me to the kitchen wing.

    *Photo by form PxHere

    Ivy called out as I passed the open door to a small room set up like a café.

    There was a dark, butcher-block table set out with baskets of rolls and breads, crockery jars of butter and jams, wedges of cheese, baskets of eggs, plates of bacon, a bowl of beautiful fruit, carafes of juices, and the accoutrements for coffee or tea. Five or six sets of tables and chairs filled the room opposite a raised stone hearth, where a small fire burned.

    Ivy sat holding a cup of something warm between her hands. Coffee, I determined as I laid my pack beside hers at the door and greeted her.

    No mittens for Ivy, though. *Photo by form PxHere

    “Sleep well?”

    “I did, yes, deeply I’d say. And I was woken by the sweetest purple martin outside my window. You?”

    She smiled and put down her mug, “Yes, I did, and he woke me too. Rosewood must have sent him to me first, knowing I would need more time to extract myself from Lignan. Help yourself to the spread, and don’t be afraid to take some extra for the journey if you want. We won’t see Sawyerset until this evening.”

    I helped myself to some bread, really wanting to make toast, and then I realized what the raised fire was for. A few minutes later, I had an entire cooked breakfast of eggs, a couple slices of bacon, and perfectly browned toast. The little flame was hot, precise, and cooked items perfectly with only a pass or two through it on a thin metal plate or the grilling grate. Faster than any gas stove or toaster.

    I sampled a dark red juice that turned out to be a smoothie, and decided I would be filling my corked bottle with that for the ride. It was an amazing combination of berries, I guessed. It would be perfect for a summer picnic lunch.

    We finished our food and packed our extras away. Ivy eyed my rucksack as I kept stuffing things into it, and its shape never changed.

    “A spelled sack, great idea. Especially since you will have to wear it the whole way because Revel is so touchy. I’ll help you settle it on your back before you mount so it adjusts to you and feels weightless. I should have thought of that myself.” She frowned a little at her saddlebags, which were obviously spelled as well, with the amount she was stuffing into them. “Perhaps I can find one in Irillo for the ride home.”

    That excellent spelled rucksack! *Photo by Alex Azabache on Unsplash

    “How long are you staying there?”

    “No idea. Matris summoned me, but I’m not sure why. Perhaps she is just lonely for the country, though, and for Arborea news. She’s on the Eanneadic Council, so she has to spend most of her time there advising the Queen. But I know she misses the quiet of her home outside Irillo. And she knows my young ones are with their patres, so it is the perfect time for me to go.”

    We reached the stable then, and I thought to mark the place in that conversation to pick it up again once we were on our way.

    Arlen danced out to meet us, and I could hear whistling along with the slicking sound of a horse being brushed. Kaval had Revel and Felicity out, tacked, and waiting for us in the main aisle, running a last brush over their coats to make them shine.

    “Ah, there you are. Right on time. Arlen woke me early, said you’d be heading out afore septa, so I got them ready for you. She’s assured me they’ve promised to get along and be proper. I don’t want to be let down.” The last was said with a pointed look at Revel.

    He handed us a couple nosebags of oats for the long afternoon stretches, and we swung up onto the horses out in the yard. My pack really did feel like nothing more than a sweatshirt on my back once Ivy adjusted it properly. She placed the oatbags in there as well, and it shifted a bit, but never registered any more weight. I’d had no idea the backpack could do all this when I bought it, but I was very glad I had gone back for it. And thankful to Daphne and Aymur.

    We said ‘Elements be’ to Kaval, and trotted down the drive. I noticed Ivy glance up to the middle of the manse and blow a kiss to a small figure in a window. Lignan, I guessed. He held up his hand, then turned quickly away.

    And so we were off! I remember feeling nervous, but really happy to be moving along toward some answers about my situation. And I REALLY wanted to see Irillo. I’ll leave it here for now, Ivy and I talked a lot on the ride, so there’s lots to tell of what I learned from her in the next few segments. It won’t be long until I post next, I promise!~


    What did you think about my comparison of Rosewood to our in-home AI’s? How would you feel about that type of situation? Drop a comment below and let me know, and thank you for your patience during my hiatus. It means a lot!

    Remember to subscribe to Collata ⚡, the Collection of Huphaea newsletter. In it I give extra insights into this land of Sentients and magic—nuggets I forget to include in the episodes, or other fun facts. Collata ⚡ is usually a monthly newsletter, so no clogged inboxes from me. Click the button and become a Nightingale today!

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    Quill & Orb Press, (the fiction part of my word services business), is open to do developmental, line, and copyediting for YOU! Fantasy, paranormal, YA, historical fiction, steampunk, and other genres welcome.

    Are you an indie author? I’d love to work with you!

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  • The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830  #15

    The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #15

    Hello Everyone! Welcome to October. Falling leaves, pumpkins and cornstalks, long sleeves, and Halloween candy are now everyday sights. Here is a photo of my nephew’s roadside stand here at our farm:

    He grew the pumpkins himself, from field prep to harvest, with his own equipment—he’s thirteen. He’s done pretty well so far, weekends clean him out and he has to restock. Proud aunt here!

    This episode will be audio only. I haven’t done audio since the very beginning, so it was time to brush off the mic and put it to use. This segment is also dialogue-heavy and I thought it may work better in audio form. I hope you enjoy it, I had fun reading it for you. Be well!

    We left Elahna on the road back to Rosewood Manor from a day in Cragbend. She had just seen some color-changing frogs in the clutches of children under the bridge. This episode includes more animals, but before I give anymore away, hit the PLAY button below and give it a listen. Then let me know what you think!~


    Click the orange arrow to play episode 15…


    What did you think? How would you have reacted, and would you want to ride a Sentient horse? Arlen was magnificent. Honestly, every Sentient I met was, but the horses were extraordinary. How do you think Revel will do on his first real excursion? Let me know how the audio was, and if it worked well, especially with all of the dialogue. I’d love to hear from you!

    Quill & Orb Press, (the fiction part of my word services business), is open to do developmental edits and copyediting for YOU! Fantasy, paranormal, YA, historical fiction, steampunk, and other genres welcome.

    Are you an indie author? I’d love to work with you!

    Line editing is coming! I am finishing courses as we speak and will be offering it later this fall. If you’d like more information about line editing, or the differences/distinctions between the three types of editing, head over to the website here:

    Or you can contact me directly

    Remember to subscribe to Collata ⚡, the Collection of Huphaea newsletter to get more from the land of Sentients and magic! This monthly newsletter has extras from Elahna’s story, stuff not seen in the episodes. You know you want to, click the button and become a Nightingale today!

  • The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830  #14

    The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #14

    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.

    Sweetnic’s sign

    “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.

    Photo by form PxHere

    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.

    The Orderly’s sign

    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.

    In some other news, Quill & Orb Press, (the fiction part of my word services business), is ready to do developmental edits and copyediting for YOU! Fantasy, paranormal, YA, historical fiction, and other genres welcome.

    Are you an Indie author? I’d love to work with you!

    Click here for a list of genres I review, and other services I offer:

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    ©2020 Eleanorah Starr and Quill & Orb Press. All Rights Reserved.

  • The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830  #13

    The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #13

    Hello Everyone! If you are here in the US, hopefully you had a splendid Labor Day weekend and are coming to terms with summer drawing to a close. I am not there yet, still holding on to sun, the hammock, and sandals. Obviously, I’m not in Colorado, and if any of you are… just wow 😲. I don’t know how I would handle that crazy temperature and precipitation swing, but I know my Akita would be happy! Schools are resuming all over the globe now, fingers crossed that we aren’t back in lockdown again because of it. Stay safe, and don’t get sucked in by the Halloween candy already in the stores (for several weeks now 🙄)…

    When we last left Elahna, she was in between the baker and the boys who stole some bread. Remember the thrown rolling pin? Okay, that’s where we will pick the story up…~


    *Photo by form PxHere

    “Thorn Arborea! I’ll be having a chat with your grandess! You can be sure of it!” The baker recovered his implement from the dirt and started brushing it off. Then he noticed me standing there a bit astonished.

    “Consarned boys. They’re nothing but trouble, those three. But mostly that Thorn, he’s aptly named. ‘Bout time he was sent off for some ‘prenticing, that’s what I think. A bit too stuffy for my like, he is.”

    “Do they do this often?”

    “That’s the quarta time this anos. I haven’t said anything to Lady Arborea to this point, just to him and the matres of the other two. That will change now. Quarta’s the number of preparation, and young Thorn needs a reminder. That’s my part for the future.”

    “I wouldn’t blame you at all. Typical teenagers, but annoying nonetheless.” I turned back toward the shop with him. He shot me an odd look, but held the door for me to enter.

    Photo by Corinne Kutz on Unsplash

    Breads and cakes filled every possible surface within the bakery. A woman with dark hair piled on top of her head and bare arms white to the elbow with flour glanced up as we came in.

    “He got dua loaves,” she said, shaking her head.

    “I know, I’ll head to the manor when this bowl is cut and stored.” He tossed the dirty rolling pin into a soapy sink. I took in all of the various baked goods and tried to keep from drooling. “Now then, what can I help you with?” He managed to force a slight smile in my direction.

    “Um, well, how about one of those large cookies, and one of those round breads?”

    *photos by pxhere.com/

    I hadn’t meant to get anything here, but I felt compelled to, given what I’d witnessed and how the baker had confided in me.

    “Of course.” He wrapped my selections in brown paper and placed them on the counter, looking at me expectantly.

    My cheeks heated some and I withdrew the pouch from my pocket. Time to own up to my ignorance and hopefully not be robbed.

    “I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with the worth of these coins and pearls. Can you tell me what they are worth and what I owe you?” I dumped the contents into my hand.

    The baker’s eyes widened for a split second and then he looked at me with a clear, steady gaze. “You’re the Passer, are you?”

    The woman’s head shot around again, but her gaze softened and she moved to the sink to wash her hands. She stepped to the counter still drying them as he replied, “Well, you have enough here to buy yourself a room at the Barrel for a good few aneks, I dare say. Here, I’ll break down una of these golds so you can be more comfortable buying.” He took a box from under the counter and started counting coppers out.

    “See, these are called holecops.” The woman held up a copper with a hole in it. “That bread you have is una holecop plus seis coppers, and the cookie is seis coppers, so the total is dua holecops.” She waited for me to take that in.

    “Ok, thank you. So one holecop is the same as twelve coppers, er, or however you say it. I can remember that.” The man replaced the box and now handed me many more coppers of both sorts, six holecops and twenty-four coppers. My pouch was going to be much heavier now.

    “Holecops are represented by this,” and she pointed to an X with three lines across it. “And coppers by this,” which was a plain X.

    I learned the other symbols later, this was enough to get me through the day though, as they said. I thanked them again, and as I turned to go, I noticed something moving in the huge bowl the woman had been working over. Two wide paddles plunged and folded the white dough though she was nowhere near it. I stopped and stared, then caught her grinning at me as she retrieved the paddles and set about kneading once again. I gave her a sheepish smile back and left.

    How cool would that be, to make your kitchen tools carry on without you? Imagine how much I could get done! It seemed like magic played some part in everyone’s everyday lives.

    The house across the road turned out to be a wood turner, with everything from utensils to bowls to banister tops displayed in and outside of his shop. There was also a tailor, and a country store of sorts, where you could buy flour, salt, bicarbonate, lye, and the like to make what you needed to. The open market I saw from the tree-top occupied a grassy field beyond the tailor, and obviously served as a secondary town center. People congregated in groups talking, laughing, and browsing. I hesitated, not really wanting to be noticed, but the bright colors of tunics and the smell of worked leather warmed by the sun drew me in anyway.

    I meandered through the market noticing many, many items I would love to have. The market reminded me of the craft fair my mother’s church held every fall. Tables and cart beds brimmed over with handmade items of clothing, cookware, linens, cured meats, vegetables and fruits, hot popped corn and honeyed nuts in paper sleeves, decorations, and knick-knacks. I knew, though, that most items in this market were practical and for everyday use; the market was the shopping mall of this era.

    I saw cast-iron skillets in sizes from one egg to half a pig, and in innumerable shapes. And on top of that, I overheard the iron-worker tell a burly man, (perhaps a tavern owner?), that he would re-form anything to any shape desired. Really? After seeing the woodworking done on the Bluebirds’ wagons, I would be keen to see metal workers.

    My pouch was bursting with coins and pearls, I swear they were burning a hole on my hip where it rested. The baker had indicated I carried a small fortune in there. It was difficult, but I reined in my shopping-spree eyes and settled for a very few practical items that I didn’t feel guilty buying—a second set of undergarments woven from the softest, finest linen, a deep purple leather thong with a wooden pin affixed to the end of it for pinning back my hair, and three of the largest, darkest blood oranges I had ever seen. The fruit itself was the size of a size three soccer ball, and so dark inside that it was nearly black. Each would easily be two meals, but after tasting the sample the grower gave me, I could not resist.

    Earth’s small versions of blood oranges. *Photo by form PxHere

    “Pardon, would you have anything I could store the unused portion of the fruit in to keep it fresh? I can’t possibly eat a whole one at once, and I will be traveling for a few days.” I was hoping for a bag or container of some sort, or that she would point me to another person who had such.

    But instead, she took the oranges, tossed each one into the air individually, froze it there, and encircled her hands around it without touching it. Then she let them go one-by-one and returned them to the bag. She held them out, “There you go, those should keep for an anek, if you need.” The bag itself was woven of grasses and was cool to the touch.

    “Thank you, elements be.”

    I now had several parcels of different sizes and shapes to carry, which was getting awkward. I would need a backpack or something to carry my few possessions in on the journey to Irillo, so I stood for a minute in the trodden center of the rectangular space and assessed the vendors for who might have such an item. I had seen some beautiful, cinched oilskin sacks at the leather worker’s earlier, and decided that would be the most sensible thing to have; then weather wouldn’t be as much of a concern, if inclement weather during the day was really a concern here. A truly unfathomable thing for a New Englander like me, but it would be a welcome relief!

    A similar pack to mine, but not quite. *Photo by Alex Azabache on Unsplash

    I left the market with my purchases safely stowed in my new oilskin backpack. The body of it was of a richly dyed navy leather with russet straps, ties, and cord stitching. It had a cinched top with a buckled cover flap and oiled canvas straps that seemed to adjust to my shoulders by themselves. I thought to ask if it was spelled to fit comfortably, but decided natives would already know that, and thanked the crofter again. I was very pleased with my practical self, and hoped Aymur would approve of how I used the money as well.

    I’ll leave it there for now, I will continue wandering around Cragbend next time. There’s more to see and do here!~


    I was dying to know what would happen to Thorn when Daphne finds out about his activities, she seemed like someone not to cross. It was hard not to go crazy in that market, would you have been able to keep the spending down? I wish I still had those garments, they were so light and comfortable. What would you have purchased in that situation? Leave a comment below so we can talk about it!

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