The Journal of Philip Wittebane

Out on the Town

Entries 4-9

Philip tries to adjust to life on the Boiling Isles, and also gets lost in a forest.

Entry 4, June 3rd

I haven't explored as much as I would like to as my stomach protests the sustenance I am served. I've been choking down different offered foods, yet most of them make my stomach feel unpleasant. Luckily, a friendly witch pitied my state and offered me an egg of a Griffin.
"They're a bit of a rarity, but if even my picky children can eat it, I'm sure you can," she had said. The egg was large, around the size of both of my closed palms. I whisked it in a bowl and mixed in local vegetable-like produce and the cream of a strange mammal known as a Pipe-Goat. It cooked over a flame like a chicken egg would and produced enough food for three days with rationing. I resisted the urge to eat the entire pan in one sitting but I did not want to risk my body rejecting the meal and letting the witch's gift go to waste.

I was pleased to have finally found a decent meal and took to the town to familiarize myself. High on confidence from the Griffin egg I attempted to try another bit of local cuisine. I was served a plate of vines that tried to consume me. They put up quite a fight as I was trying to immobilize them. While I was fighting with those magical plants, I noticed a strange symbol inside them. It's resemblance was close to that of a flower. My curiosity got over me at that point and I touched the symbol. To my surprise, more vines had grown out of it. That's when I realised that magic is everywhere in this world. Anywhere I look, I can find some trace of it.

At that moment it hit me that I was really stuck here. In my initial days, I assumed I would be out so quickly that I would not need to endure meals for much longer. Yet now as I've finally found something I can enjoy, I have realized I may be stuck eating Griffin eggs for the rest of my life. No matter, I slept well now that I was full.

Entry 5, June 15th

I walked around the town studying the daily life of citizens, revitalized by last night's meal. There are shops lining the streetsides wherein witches purchase goods with a strange gold currency. I do not have money, so I found myself sitting near a fountain and observing the citizens.

There is a strange beauty with the universal customs of human, demon, and witch. Young witches in this realm play and imagine the same way as children. The Boiling Isles in general feels like a fantasy world one of the neighborhood children in my town would make up for a game, and yet for the natives, it is merely their life.

Today, a child witch approached me and asked about my rounded ears. I told her I was a human, and she did not even understand the concept. I began to tell her about life in the human realm and she was entranced. A small circle of children soon formed, listening to me regale simpler stories of our human ships and manufacturing weapons. Did the children here make-believe as intrepid human explorers rather than the fantastical races they already are?

Another witch approached me and suggested I apply to tell stories to the children in the local library. "The kids loved your stories!" he had gushed. "It's just around the block and I'm sure if you can't find it, someone will point you to it." The witch had patted my shoulder and left, leaving me stunned and intrigued. Judging by everyone's usage of golden coins, I would need those if I were to progress in this society. Clearly, I am not going to be returning to the human realm anytime soon, so I may as well try to assimilate instead of relying on the witches' culture of immense hospitality. I decided to wait before going to the library so as to continue investigating the intricacies of the Boiling Isles.

Entry 6, June 28th

As I worked more into discovering the magic of this realm, I was told of another species by the "witches" called palismen. They can be carved out of a specific material that can be found in the "swampy toes". As I ventured my way there, I saw mushrooms taller than trees and yellow balls floating in the darker air. I ventured deep into these mushroom filled forests. It was quite amazing. As I watched the spectacle, a sudden smell ached at my nose. I quickly wore my scarf up and continued. I was able to find a single branch of this material as I continued my adventure. I returned with the branch and helped the other witches make their own "palismen". I was very surprised when I saw what happened to the wood. It started to move, almost as if it were alive.

As I researched more about these things, I began to notice how they also have the ability to cast magic as seen by the more humanoid "witches" and "demons" but without the use of paper or additional material which fascinated me. I had no idea how these creatures were able to produce natural material magic.The more I explored the species the more intrigued I grew. I realized that you can carve staff that Palismen can be attached to. These creatures can take any form or shape possible, whether it is a mythical animal, or a normal flower.

Entry 7, June 30th

Today, for a much-needed break from the suffocating city life, I forged my path to one of the nearby forests and once more, this macabre landscape astonished me with its nature. The inhabitants bear a striking resemblance to those within the bestiary of our world but here they are, quenching their thirst from a stream of what I can only describe as steaming poison with a scent so repulsive that a man would rather choose the sewer. Perhaps the making of their biology is bound to the logic of this world but at the same time, an upsetting yet mesmerizing notion also crossed my mind: What if I wasn't the first being from our world to be spirited away into this realm and what I had just witnessed is the product of adaptation and evolution? How long can I stay here before I am a part of it? Maybe I should not be pondering with such pessimism about my circumstances and just lie down for a peaceful rest, that is the point of this journey after all.

I need to return to my place to rest as the sun is setting, if there is such a thing in this world.

I hope I can find my way back.

Entry 8, Ju......

How foolish of me to have walked into this forest by myself. It was obvious that I should have followed the smoke from the town chimneys yet I AM STILL TRAPPED IN THIS WRETCHED PLACE.

I need to calm down and be thankful that my sanity is still intact to be jotting this down. I have simply lost track of time despite witnessing multiple cycles of the "sun" and the "moon" but it is neither relevant nor important, I need to keep my awareness.

So far, I have yet to see any signs of stalking predators and I hope it stays that way. If one were to pounce, my only choice is to raise the pistol to my temple and pull the trigger before it eviscerates me.

This might be my final entry.

Entry 9

As if luck was smiling to me, I was finally saved by a travelling caravan after shambling for so long inside that "forest".

They called themselves the "Clawthornes", an eccentric family yet not too dissimilar from those I have seen from the English countryside. The eldest and most outspoken member, Artorius Clawthorne asked me if I was heading towards Bonesborough and with the very last bit of my strength, I nodded in approval as the caravan picked up its pace.

As my consciousness was regained, I soon noticed the rack of wooden staffs near the mother and attached to each of them were intricate carvings similar to the avians of our world, some of them I did recognize like the Raphus Cucullatus (Dodo), Strigiformes (Owl) and Cathartes Aura (Vulture) though they still beared some oddities apart from the usual birds.

Throughout the journey, I quickly became an object of fascination to young ones with my round ears and dialect. In return for their favors, I told them the stories of my excursions back in the Human realm, from the Chesapeake Bay to India to my flintlock pistol as their eyes glowed in curiosity and disbelief. Artorius was quickly enamored with my sidearm, egging me for a quick demonstration and as expected, the shot was enough to send them hiding. "Imagine what a witch could do with such power" - Artorius told me with a combination of both fear and wonder in his eyes. I too, pondered the potential power assimilating the technologies of our world with the magic of this. Perhaps it would bring for an age of progress or perhaps, unfathomable destruction.

As night fell, I finally made it to Bonesborough and the Clawthornes bid their farewell. Feeling like being beholden, I tried to offer them my pistol as a token of gratitude but Artorius denied my gift with a warm smile. "Young man, The Clawthornes are the most powerful witches in this land, our paths will surely cross once more." - he promised with great confidence. In my world, Pride is the first sin of man but to me, seeing these imperfections just makes them all the more human to me. I waved my last goodbye as their caravan slowly faded into the fog.

I really do hope our paths will cross once more in the future.

Chapter credits:

- Sasha Gaybright#1837

-indigo#8123 / paradoxxed (a03)