Newly appointed Head Witch of Spear Hill, Medeia, is only just getting used to her duties as the first elected Witch of the Wood without a prominent lineage to back her. Yet, when a shadowy figure emerges from the darkness and warns of a Storm, so t...
One would think that a celebration that lasts one day, wouldn't need a full week's worth of preparation, but then one would be wrong. Or at least in the eyes of Lady Niamh.
Elvira had left at dawn, leaving her side of the bed cold when I finally deemed it late enough to open my eyes. I rolled over in the mounds of heavy blankets, yawning loud in the quiet room. Despite the now risen sun, very little light reached us under the canopy and the light that shone through the bedroom window was almost purely from lanterns.
Setting my feet on the floor, I reached my arms high, stretching away the stiffness that came from sleep. My knee ached, but the wound was almost fully healed thanks to Elvira's poultices. With a quick glance at the clock, I knew I had to get on with my chores if I was to get everything done in time for supper at Lady Niamh's. I sighed and rolled my neck, casting my gaze around the quaint room. Warm oak walls closed in the space, donned with all sorts of paintings, hanging dried herbs and shelves of odd commodities. The only interruptions to the walls' collages were two doors on opposite walls, one leading to the hallway and the other to the connected washroom. They lay on the right- and left-hand side of the bed that took up the most space in the room's center. For maximum storage, we had a heavy chest at the foot of our bed and drawers for clothing next to both doors. Under the window off towards the washroom was a cramped desk with a variety of sketches, research, and grimoires. Mostly just for me and my studies, but sometimes Elvira liked to use it to jot down her many thoughts and worries.
I quickly washed up in the washroom, dressing in my signature brown leather breeches that reached up to my navel and were lined in soft wool. I pulled on a homespun white shirt, tucking it in loosely and finally adding suspenders to keep everything intact. In the kitchen, I found a small sack packed with one apple and two leftover mushroom-stuffed pumpkins that were the size of my fist. All kept steamy with seemingly decorative sigils carved lightly into their surfaces. I sent a kiss to the Sky so that he could pass it on to Elvira in thanks and packed my satchel.
Pulling my heeled boots all the way over my knees, I spied a fog rolling over my lands and blocking the rest of the Woods from eyesight.
"Gods. And I didn't think it could get more dreary" I muttered, irritatedly pulling my arms through the sleeves of my coat. The chill air met my face with a stinging kiss and I grimaced against the stark difference from the toasty air inside my cottage. From the stables a hundred feet away, Dranios neighed his morning- or should I say midday, greeting and I took that as my cue to hurry along.
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Half an hour later and we were on our way, galloping through the thick fog with two saddlebags overbrimming with tools. One for repairs and fixing things, the other for more.. mystical problems, I guess you could say. Dranios well enjoyed stretching his long black legs and taking us deep into the Woods with the speed of an eagle. He was a playful Friesian with flowing locks that seemed to replace its length overnight, every time I cut it. I did it for his sake, to keep it out of his way when we rode, but I guess he didn't mind the extra flair it gave him when we passed the "peasants". As in those just plainly walking and not riding.
