Wildling Series

Chapter 7: The Season Knights 

Once inside the cool, still shade of a Quercus Alba tree, the group sits at a table and goes over their options, while eating a midday meal. The Librarians provide a plethora of fresh fruits and nuts, and Tonic makes an energizing batch of tea. Atcher uncaps ink and gets a fresh nib to write notes in the birchbark journal as Vellum offers knowledge and advice. 

The Librarian’s voice is clear, listing off thoughts and suggestions. Atcher writes quickly, adding to a list of new words, sketches, and meanings:

Marginalia – References the beautiful in the borders. In a work of writing, marginalia are doodles and illustrations, sometimes even notations, in the borders and margins around the main text. Not the main story, but most interesting enhancements. Marginalia is also the name for the things that guard the Lintels to the World’s Between.

Lintel - the exact spot or feeling that allows a Wildling to travel the World’s Between. These are often in forgotten places, or found on a Wanderlust. Guarded by Marginalia.

World’s Between - How we travel to other realities, alongside our own. Tonic tried to explain this idea with a teapot universe and tealeaf realities. The World of Myth is where we end up (the World of Myth is where all our mythology really lives, stuff like sabertooth oxen and stone speaking and writing twigs that bleed color).

World of Myth - the place where our mythic tales come from. All the fantasy dreamed of is basically something real in the World of Myth; back when more Wildlings traveled the World’s Between they brought explanations of what they found and did from the World of Myth, and those turned into our mythic tales.

Oburoni - a word Graemes uses; translates as “someone from over the horizon.” It means a person from across the World’s Between, someone from the World of Myth. 

Glazed - one who cannot travel the World’s Between.

Wildling - one who can travel the World’s Between, to the World of Myth. Tend to long for other places and ideas. Often feel like they don’t quite fit in.

Vellum wraps up the discussion, saying, “Wherever you go, Wildlings, travel boldly and joyfully! You are on a Wanderlust, and you are exploring new things; enjoy what you learn and change. Remember that you may end up places you don’t like. You can’t alter the fact that previous decisions were made, but you can always make new ones from where you are. Relish time with friends.”

After looking at maps, and taking into account the warnings about the Marginalia being guardians, the trio decides to set out for the Tree Beyond the Garden. “The tree seems easiest to reach from here” Atcher decides. Prism and Tonic agree. 

Vellum marks the way on a map for them, and shows them the path to start on. “The map is yours to keep. I hope you find what you are looking for; please stop by and tell us your tales when you are done. Well met, and meet again!”

Tonic, Atcher, and Prism wave to the Librarians as they set out, with Wind Rabbits flitting to and fro. The road is long, but not arduous. There are open fields, gentle hills, and pleasant trees along the path. The travel is easy, and they make good time the first day.

That evening, Atcher pulls a bundle out of the bronze bag with the exaltation, “We get to try my Night Tent!” The brownie sets up the tent, with gears clicking into place, and canvas stretched taut. The beautiful tent is the glorious riot of a setting sky, dappled with shining stars that gently glow. The completed structure is a cylinder that easily fits the three friends, and has a special netted shelf for holding food and things off the ground. 

As Prism directs wind traffic outside, Atcher fixes salad and scones for supper. Tonic makes tea, and muses out loud, “I could have shown Vellum my journal Graemes wrote! I wonder what the Librarians think of the written works versus the grown copies? Would the two versions look exactly the same? Would there be differences, like ink splotches and sketches? Is Atcher’s notebook growing somewhere there?”

When the trio is sitting together, Prism asks, “What happens to all the Sudden Ideas? You find so many, Atcher but hardly have more than 2 or 3 running around.”

Atcher nods and answers “Sudden Ideas take a lot of care. Somebeings can tend to many of them at once; I’m only good with two or three. Some Sudden Ideas are released, when a creator realizes they can’t care for it. Others go dormant and ultimately slip away if they aren’t given enough attention. They will run around until anotherbeing finds them. The few I’m attending to, I let live in my birchbark journal, being tended and groomed, growing stronger and more useful.”

“I had no idea!” Prism exclaims. “So any new Sudden Ideas you find, you have to decide to let an old idea go, or let the new one go?”

“Well, if I find a really good one I hold onto it for a bit. I can keep a few extra if I let some be dormant a while. But yes, basically I have to choose which two or three to keep, and which to release. I know whichever ones I release will be happy until picked up by somebeing else. Sometimes I trade them to other Brownies.” Atcher answers. The friends watch the Wind Rabbits play as they finish their meal and think over their day.

As the three friends clean up and settle down for sleep, Tonic find a legible spot in Graemes’s journal and reads aloud “Then bronze and sunset Keph’thysaat gave me a dragon’s hug and said, ‘Oh my changeling child: my child of the wyrd and wild, child of rough and unreasonable. Your power lies in your curiosity and your ferocity. Use your powers for good - explore, help, create, stand up for those in need, bring kindness and laughter and wonder to the world...”

Thinking on this, Tonic decides to read their tea leaves before they all go to sleep. Taking Atcher’s cup, Tonic pauses to decipher the leaf patterns, “There is a great change coming, and we must all be ready to stand together. We mustn’t doubt ourselves or give up. We need to accept each other’s strengths and differences...Hmm; the leaves are not as precise as usual. They generally like to tell me things like ‘There is a cake waiting for you. It tastes sweet.’ or ‘You need to do laundry today.’ Well, maybe the next cup will be clearer.” 

Taking Prism’s cup, Tonic says, “Prism, your powerful emotions will be needed soon. I think you will face a grave enemy…” the gnome hesitates, and turns the cup around, “Or you will need to recite a hidden poem. It’s odd; normally these two leaf patterns aren’t interchangeable, but I just can’t tell which this is meant to be.” The gnome of tea looks at the last cup and says, “Ah! To break our fast we will find some delicious nasturtiums, borage, rose, and violets. And the leaves remind me to use the mushroom powder from Nightshade as a broth.” Pleased with the solid advice, Tonic lays all the soggy leaves out on a rock for the Wind Rabbits to nibble through the night.

The tent is quiet and cool, and as the friends inside go to sleep, the canvas stars twinkle soothing patterns. From outside, the tent blends into the night, and is nearly impossible to see.

In the morning, Atcher folds up the tent, trying to persuade the canvas and gears to compress back into the envelope-sized star shape it began in. The whole thing jangles and twists, leaping out of Atcher’s hands, and being a nuisance. The Night Tent is difficult until Tonic sits down nearby, polishing the Mighty Teaspoon Hammer, and asking if any assistance is needed. The Night Tent jolts and shambles less in the brownie’s hands with the Mighty Teaspoon Hammer glinting in the morning light. 

Atcher laughs, “I guess sometimes even tents can decide to be less troublesome! The tent only works at night; it hides us and protects us.” Atcher explains “But during the day, the Night Tent is noisy and jittery. If I set it up too early it always just comes out as a squashed sandwich. The blasted thing is impossible to fold correctly once the sky is light, too. If I had remembered to pack it earlier, it would have twirled up like a musical chime, spinning starlight into pre-dawn symphonies. That’s why it’s a Night Tent. It only works properly at night. Well, now it’s a half-wrecked cube; that will have to do for today.” Atcher shrugs acceptance and ties the Night Tent on top of the bronze bag.

The friends don’t break their fast right away, but gather the predicted edible flowers along their route. They stop at the top of a large hill to make the mushroom broth and eat sugared petals. The land spreads out below them, and the sky is wide open above. The plants lie low and soft on the ground. In the distance, a mountain range rises up, majestically soaring, slopes green with forests, and grand, snowy, clouded peaks at the top. The Wind Rabbits frisk toward the freshening breeze of the mountain, and the ocean beyond.

By midday, Prism, Atcher, and Tonic have reached the mountain’s base. It looks grey and rocky up close, with foreboding, jagged cliffs and icy, whipping winds. At the base of the mountain is a large, clean tunnel with a gate locked across it and a sign posted. The Mountain Gate sign says “Short Tunnel closed until Seasons return.” There are two smaller signs pointing to trails on the right and left. Both trails wind up the mountain. The sign to the left says “Restore the Seasons” and the sign to the right says “Never Return.”

“Well that’s sinister.” Prism says with crossed arms, looking at the sign to the right.

“Great!” Tonic cheers; although the gnome doesn’t feel completely joyful yet, the appreciation is genuine. “Thank you both for your hard work. Atcher, your pictures of the path and Orchard really helped jog me out of my funk. Prism, you responded quickly and efficiently. I don’t think we ever would have gotten out without working together!” 

Prism keeps a weather-eye out and leads the way through the dreary, dense clumps of forest while Atcher makes course corrections using the Stratigraphy Skirt.

As they emerge from the dripping, shadowed forest tangle, a Librarian with ink-embellished skin and short, straight, parchment-white hair is tending some trees. The Librarian greets them, “Hello. I go by Vellum. I am one of the Librarians here in the Ideas Orchards. How can we assist you?” Mushroom stands by the librarian’s feet, chirruping happily. The orchard has bright, hot, midday light in the open areas, and pleasant pools of shade beneath the trees. 

“What was that awful swamp-forest about?! Why did Mushroom leave us? I think we were nearly lost forever!” Prism bursts out.

Vellum tends to some scrollwork leaves on a tree, checking for any signs of ill-health in the plant and distractedly responds, “Ah, yes. The Preconceived Woods are perilous. Many get lost in their own thoughts, trapped in their old ideas, and never make it out. You are lucky you had such a helpful unicorn to lead you so far. I believe your self-absorption caused you to lose sight of your guide. You must have a good friendship to have stayed focused nearly the whole way here. The forest around the orchard reminds us that we must work through our own fears and preconceptions before we are ready to learn new ideas. I find it best to work together, stand up for each other, and say NO to bad thinking while there. Be willing to admit when you are wrong, and listen to what others tell you. It helps immensely.” the Librarian turns toward the biggest trees, carved and sculpted into a magnificently towering structure, “Briony! Please bring some new ideas for our guests.” From a treetop window, a young figure with many braids is seen to scurry, arriving shortly with a stack of books, then hurrying off again.

“We need to learn about forgotten places.” Atcher volunteers.“We are helping Tonic on a Wanderlust, and need to travel...what was it?”

“The World’s Between. Nightshade recommended we ask here” Tonic finishes.

“Ah” Vellum replies. “Walk with me through the Ideas Orchard while I work on a list for you.”

Vellum leads the group, softly sharing the life and habits of the Orchard. The Librarian’s love of the Ideas Orchard, though quiet, is unmistakable. Vellum’s voice becomes suffused with joy when talking about the Orchard.

Gesturing at the wide variety of trees in the orchard, all spaced neatly and evenly for maximum growth and nutrition, Vellum says, “All around us are the Book Trees. Gather close! See the small word buds? They are smooth and easy to use. Touch them; aren’t they comfy? These word buds are perfect for beginner Librarians. We start our training as soon as we can stand up, and word buds are often low on the tree, within easy reach for young hands and minds. If encouraged to flourish, the word buds will grow into fantastic, and often loquacious elegance.” 

Atcher pats some of the small word buds, thinking about all of the things they could become. “What a fascinating way to create!” the brownie enthuses “It is much like crafting and inventing. These are the building blocks and gears needed to realize something more elaborate!” Vellum smiles and encourages Atcher to keep a word bud, which the brownie gratefully presses into the birchbark journal.

Walking in the soothing shade of many different trees, Vellum points out more parts of the orchard, “Here are some curious leaflets, they encourage the tree-tender to keep asking and searching. A curious leaflet can go a long way towards helping you complete research; they often have surprising, interesting facts, and they lead us to explore more. These are very useful for those needing to hold or gain interest.”

Prism lets Undertow play in the curious leaflets, and the Wind Rabbit races through the tree, wildly rattling leaflets and notions. Turbine and Steam soon wake and poke their noses out of Atcher’s bronze bag and Tonic’s travel teacup. The sociable Zephers join the Gale, playing a game of tag all through the tree. 

“That’s enough, you three. Don’t shake the young leaflets off!” Prism admonishes with a laugh. The Wind Rabbits flow out of the trees, whirling and bouncing between the group’s ankles instead.

Vellum continues to show more of the orchard, explaining differences in leaf shape, trunk patterns, growth habits, and nutritional needs of the trees. After some time, the group comes to a new section of Orchard. The Librarian grins widely and announces, “Over here are words ripe for picking.”

Each guest gets to try a word. Atcher has “plethora” Prism chooses “indubitably” and Tonic picks “prodigious.” Sharing their fantastic new words, the friends agree that the Ideas Orchard is magnificent.

Vellum skips along a short way, to even larger trees, spaced further apart. “Ripe books are stored in the shelf-like hallows of Book Trees. These are where we store the majority of our finished works. Scrolls live in smaller trees, tomes in sturdier ones. Our filing system is largely bark. You can tell a Book Tree’s contents by the words grown into the bark. This one here is traditional poetry on scrolls; see the words formed repeatedly in the bark?”

Happy to share knowledge and guide a tour, the Librarian is full of joy showing the group “Over here we have a small quarry for refining glimmering nuggets of an idea. These little gems form from the crystalized resin when a tree is wounded. Excess letters and grammar can be used here to scrub and grind crystalized ideas, sloughing off biases and hypocrisies to refine the ideas.” Atcher lingers to admire the beautiful polished resins.

An area rich with dark earth, and dotted with mounds comes next. Tonic is excited to see such healthy compost piles, knowing how important decomposition is for plants to gain nutrients. Vellum explains, “Sometimes ideas become outdated, and the books get squishy and overripe. These books must be unshelved and planted so new ideas can grow out of the old. These books will rot and decompose, creating fertile ground for the seeds of new ideas.”

The three friends are agog with wonder at the Ideas Orchard, and had almost forgotten the reason that had come there when Vellum says “Those with a strong connection to the World’s Between, we call them Wildlings. Have you ever felt a longing for a place you’ve never been? Have you been truculent, recalcitrant, or stubborn? Looked up the meaning of a word just because you liked how it felt on your tongue? Have you felt a Wanderlust so strong, you just had to go, but you didn’t know where? Have you felt different than those around you? These are all aspects of being a Wildling, and of the ability to travel the World’s Between.”

Tonic gasps to hear such experiences described so exactly. 

Vellum reads from a book titled “Curious Rituals of Uncommon Folk” and says “I have here a copy of a Wildling’s first-hand account. It says here the author, Graeme, called those from other realities “Oburoni” and said this beautiful word means “someone from over the horizon” in a place called Ghana.”

The Librarian closes the book, saying, “The Oburoni live among us. They are real. We don’t see them, because they live… sort of next to us, invisible, and insubstantial. But we can get to them, although nearly everyone has forgotten how. There used to be many Wildlings, many who knew how to travel the World’s Between.”

Prism, Atcher, and Tonic stand still, marveling.

Briony walks up with a single scroll, orchard light dappling on freckles, muscular arms, and bouncing mahogany hair braids. Vellum speaks to the friends as Briony hands them the scroll. “Here is a list of forgotten places within travel from here: The Tree Beyond the Garden, The Hole in the Bottom of the Sea, The Witch of the Westmoreland, Walking Grass on the Heath, the Bog of the Dead Moon, and the Scent from Childhood. There aren’t many options anywhere nearby, I’m afraid. You will need to seek out the forgotten places, because realities grow thin and touch there. Find a forgotten place that makes your blood sing and your senses glow. There will be a Lintel of the World’s Between close by. You have your list. Where will you choose to go?”

Chapter 6: Idea Orchards

When the sky is light, Prism, Atcher, and Tonic break their fasts with Nightshade; everyone enjoys leftovers from the night before. Then the friends set out for the Ideas Orchard with marked maps in hand. Having put down roots while trying to fix the gingerbread curse, Nightshade is unable to lead the friends to the Orchard; the dryad instead introduces the friends to a pleasant unicorn guide.

“Just follow Mushroom! Well met, and meet again!” Nightshade calls from the gingerbread ruins. Dryads, as you may know, are attached to their plants, and cannot travel beyond them without great sacrifice. Nightshade waves to the group, wishing them well until they are out of sight.

The small, round unicorn struts down the path jauntily. Mushroom is no bigger than Atcher’s hand, and likes to whinny songs while trotting. Although they don’t speak unicorn, each friend feels the joy in the little tunes. All of a sudden, Mushroom steps off the well-worn path, and follows a twisting trail of roots and fungi. This path is less populous, and swiftly changes from a wide, welcoming wood, to a dark and crowded forest. Leaving a well-traveled path is always an uncertain thing. It can be dangerous to forge a new path, but there may be great rewards too. Mushroom seems confident, and the trio don’t know any other way to the Ideas Orchard; they follow along, paying attention to their surroundings.

The group travels on, following the merry tapping of Mushroom’s tiny hooves. The path forged by the unicorn is long and arduous. It twists, and drips, and not much light gets through. The air is drenched in sweaty vapor, and unseen insects buzz and click. In the gloom of the path, brownie, sprite, and gnome find themselves chatting less, feeling snappish at Mushroom’s silly songs, and growing distant from each other. The journey is uncomfortable and tiring; they go up hills and down, climb over massive roots, stumble on slippery rocks, and feel thirsty and grimy. The friends talk less, and grumble internally about the sticky temperature, loud bugs, itchy plants, and bruised limbs. Slowly Mushroom’s tapping fades, and each friend becomes slower and more focused on their own worries. 

“No one listens to me... Can I make a difference? ...It doesn’t really matter... Gnomes aren’t good leaders anyway... Sprites can’t understand my troubles... Brownies don’t do real work... Is your job actually important?... I’d like to help, but I’m scared... What if I mess up?...” and on and on their doubts and prejudices grow.

Soon, the cheerful unicorn is no longer leading them. The path is no longer marked.

All three friends feel querulous and uncommunicative. They mope and grouse, and cannot focus on solving their dilemma. The trio is so self-absorbed and focused on difficulties, they hardly remember that they are trying to get to the Ideas Orchard.

A disgruntled forever slowly elapses.

Settling into a sullen stupor, the gnome, sprite, and brownie can’t tell how much time is passing; it seems to stretch on interminably, each minute growing more irritable than the last. 

“How do we get out of here?” Prism sulks. “And where’s the clippy mini-corn?” Undertow spins in stagnant circles, and Prism’s complexion looks like deep and dangerous waters. The water sprite coaxes a rain cloud down to make a cold, dank puddle for wallowing in. Prism and Undertow sink down in the murky water.

Atcher fusses with an uneaten raincake, then uses it to act as a lens and starts a small, smokey fire-smudge in a small patch of moist lichens. The brownie vengefully tears pieces out of the Birchbark Journal and feeds them to the moist fire.

In a snit, Tonic collects twigs to start a fire and make tea. “Nothing is going right. We may as well stay here.” the gnome gripes. “The plants are wrong, the weather is wrong, the ground is wrong. We are lost and no one is helping.” The gnome angrily makes tea, grumpily spilling leaves and sloshing the brew, which only increases Tonic’s bitter mood. “Ugh! This is making me waste good ingredients! Stupid quest. Stupid adventure.” Tonic sips the imperfect tea, which is mildly soothing, but provides no good answers. 

Atcher picks up a burned twig and sketches what an Idea Orchard might look like. The sketch has a dark and moody tone.

Watching the brownie draw, Tonic quickly stands up “Atcher, that is a great idea! ...Prism! We are looking for an orchard. It will be more open and spacious than this dratted forest. Can you figure out the weather? Which way feels like ‘orchard’?” 

Prism’s expression clearly says “this is hopeless” but the sprite checks the wind, the clouds, the sun, and asks Undertow to run above the trees for a better weather view.

Determined to be useful, Tonic tries to assess their assets. “Atcher, didn’t Nightshade mark the Ideas Orchard on your Stratigraphy Skirt? Let’s have a look. How does this work?”

Atcher’s eyes open wide as the brownie wakes up from depressing self-doubt. “Oh, yes! The skirt shows the layers of geological history under our feet. It changes as the layers of soil beneath us change.” Twisting to look around the skirt, Atcher announces “We are almost there! Look, there is barely any stratigraphy between us and the orchard.”

“Judging from the Weather Tendencies, I say we just need to go through the darkest patch of woods over there.” Prism explains, in a grudgingly hopeful tone.

Chapter 5: Nightshade

Atcher arrives early at the teapot, ready to start the day, and fretting “How do we start? If no one knows where Graemes is, then it is very difficult to begin our quest.”

Tonic swirls around, back toward the house. “People do know Graemes, and might know where we need to go!” Cracking open the hickory hull door, the gnome rushes into the room, Atcher bobbing along behind. Before you can gulp, Tonic is pouring through Curious Rituals of Uncommon Folk. “Here! I’ve been reading through the Curious Rituals of Uncommon Folk. Graemes tells of meeting a dryad named Nightshade when they fought a gingerbread Curse. Nightshade got bound to the house, even though the battle exploded it! Nightshade lives deep in the epicenter of the Epicerie, and we should be able to learn something about Graemes there.”

Excited by their find, Atcher sends Wind Rabbit Turbine racing to tell Prism to meet them at Tonic’s teapot. As Prism swims up the river toward Tonic's Teapot home, Undertow bounces ahead and behind, gathering rocks, shells, and cattails (then whipping them away as soon as the items are boring).

Tonic and Atcher only have to wait a moment for Prism to roar up in a splash of surf and current. Brownie, Gnome, and Sprite plan their route to find Nightshade in the Epicerie using Atcher’s cartography (and the freshly finished Stratigraphy Skirt. The brownie is too excited to properly explain how this horizontally striped skirt works, but is so clearly proud of it, that Prism and Tonic just nod and agree), Prism’s knowledge of weather, and Tonic’s clues from the journal. The Epicerie appears to be mostly wild forest and glade, with homes dotted sparsely throughout. The roads to it seem old and somewhat unkempt. The trio ensures provisions are tucked into their peach pack, bronze bag, and seafoam satchel. They begin their journey to the Epicerie, which shouldn’t take more than a day or two. The friends travel companionably, at their own pace, with songs, rests, conversations, and only occasional complaints. Mostly occasional. Adventures are difficult; adventures mean stretching yourself, trying new things, and going new places. Adventures mean facing your comfort zone and going outside it. So there are definitely some complaints. But good companions make things better.

After much landscape has passed, and toes have definitely begun to tire, the three friends are walking along the path through a somewhat rocky, overgrown wood. The trees and undergrowth here remind Tonic of home, many of them give off tantalizing hints of savory spice when they are brushed. Tonic sniffs the air, nose tilting this way and that, head twisting to face different directions. Steam whistles a snore from within the travel teapot Tonic carries. The gnome pats the teapot and sniffs some more. 

“What are you doing?” Prism askes the gnome with curiosity.

Tonic responds distractedly, “Smelling… have you ever stopped a task to follow a scent?” With eyes closed and nostrils twitching, the gnome continues “I love finding a new scent. Right now, I want to know what that…” Tonic ponderes, trying to find the right description… “that sort of deep, spicy, sweet scent is. It smells a bit burnt, in a good, dark, cooled way.”

Prism and Atcher sniff too, but their noses aren’t as honed as the brownie’s tea-sniffing snout is. The tea gnome sniffs some more, and the friends set off in search of the scent’s source while the gnome continues, “You both have scent too you know. Prism, you smell fresh and breezy, kind of like lemongrass, ozone, salt, and rain...” Prism turns and gleams with pride at the apt description.

“Atcher, you tend to smell cool and earthy, like carrot or ginger, and copper.” Tonic finishes. Atcher considers this, then makes a note to sniff fresh carrot and ginger next time it’s available. This leads to a list of possible scent blends, sketches of some herbs, and a design for a metal necklace that can hold scents and release them as the metals warm up.

Although the friends don’t strictly stick to the dirt path, following the scent trail through the dense forest, the trio does come to a clearing with a large, dilapidated house in the middle, which is made of a rich, tan bread, and is the source of the delicious smell they had followed. There are intricate curls and swirls adorning the house around every door frame, window, and rail that remains; some of the decorations are carved, and some seem piped on like frosting.

As Prism, Atcher, and Tonic admire the decaying house’s adornments, Atcher wonders aloud “Would a knock on the door crash the whole thing down?” Then an outraged squeal rings out of the surrounding forest!

Bluefire angry, a purple and green dryad bursts upon the three friends, shrieking, “Nibble, nibble little mouse, who is nibbling at my house?!”

Prism and Atcher try to ready defenses, grabbing gears and salting seaspray. Although terrified, Tonic manages to whisper “Um. No one. We aren’t eating anything…”

Folding down luna-moth wings like a cloak, the dryad sags, looking relieved and far less fearsome. “My apologies” the dryad says, straightening a pale, star-shaped hat, and shaking off dust. “It’s part of the curse’s magic.” The dryad gestures at the gingerbread remains with a rueful smile.

Inspecting the ruins, Atcher notes that the dryad has reinforced some of the walls, cleared away weeds, and set up a bench and seats inside. The ruins have been turned into a remarkable garden pergola!

“Whenever someone gets close, I am compelled to defend it.” the dryad continues, “I am trying to fix it up and dismantle the curse, but, clearly, I’m not done yet. I go by Nightshade. How can I help you? Are you lost? The gingerbread scent does tend to lead people off their path.”

“Actually, I think you ARE our path.” Prism states.

“We are on a quest.” Tonic announces.

“A journey!” Prism boldly agrees.

“An adventure.” Atcher adds.

“All that at once?” Nightshade asks. “Well, why don’t you come in and tell me about it?” The dryad shows the brownie, sprite, and gnome to a house off to one side while chatting companionably. “This way! My house is a glorious little Aubergine, with a spacious Potato Root Cellar, and the best Sweet Tomato Shed! Look, I just renovated the belladonna-bloom roofing.”

As the group approaches Nightshade’s house, they can see behind the gingerbread ruins, to a fawn-colored mushroom cottage that has a leathery-looking roof. Prism stares at the bright red pools of liquid on the roof, and Atcher assesses the matching red-paned windows.

“Do you like it?” Nightshade asks, noticing the rapt attention. “I renovated that building myself. The Red Juicetooth is a great library! It has the comfiest fly agaric seats inside, and dozens of shelves! I live in the Aubergine, but friends often stay in the Juicetooth Library. See the mushrooms on the garden path?” Gnome, Sprite, and Brownie turn to look at the unassuming fungi.

“Those are bioluminescent! They light the path at night with their foxfire glow. Sometimes, if you sit very still, you can see the flickering vulpines who light their glow! Whoever built the gingerbread house really liked sweets and mushrooms. I have had to do a lot of research, to properly fix the place up. Most of the glowing mushrooms are family Mycena, but not all.” While leading the group, the dryad starts pointing to different mushrooms and listing types. “I’ve found Panellus stipticus (those oyster-shaped ones, with a bright glow), honey mushrooms (by the tree; they are squat and sticky, with a yellow color), fairy helmets (these violet ones over here on the rotting log; they are tiny and grow in clusters), and jack-o-lanterns (the big orange ones here; only their gills glow).”

The group had wound their way through the garden while Nightshade talked, finally arriving at the indigo door of the dryad’s house. “Oh my geese! I’ve been so excited to share my work, I haven’t let you talk! Please, come in and tell your story.” The dryad opens the front door and invites Tonic, Atcher, and Prism inside. Inside Nightshade’s house is clean and soft and white, with a mild, crisp scent. There is a wall of shelves that Atcher is drawn too, each shelf filled with containers and unusual items.

“That’s my Nicknackatory.” Nightshade explains, while bringing some chairs over to the glossy, blue-green mushroom table. “I love boxes. Boxes, little drawers, bags, cubbyholes… they are always full of chaos and possibilities! A friend first introduced me to Knicknackatories as a place to keep and cherish memorabilia. Believed it was good to display memories and invite a little uncertainty; you seem to get the best stories that way. Stories need change, difficulties, and growth.” Nightshade then waits patiently for the party to explain what they want.

Tonic thinks of Graemes’s journal, the Wanderlust, and the recent Conclusions, and isn’t sure what to say. Would the dryad be willing or able to help them?

Prism’s feet shuffle under the table, waiting for Tonic, and Atcher gives a “you’re in the lead” gesture. Tonic feels bolder knowing that the sprite and brownie give their support. Taking the lead, the gnome takes a deep breath and speaks up. “Nightshade, do you know which way the wind blows to the World’s Between? We need to go there to find where Graemes went.”

The dryad is quiet. “Oh. Yes, Graemes has traveled the World’s Between. It isn’t always easy to get to; Graemes swore the surest way was to find a forgotten place. Travel will change you, and traveling the World’s Between will change you Wildlings muchly.”

“How do we find forgotten places? I mean… if they are forgotten, then how do we find maps to them? Can anyone direct us? Do we just wander around hopefully?” Atcher asks querulously.

“I don’t know. All the places I have found, which only total 2, I stumbled upon.” Nightshade points to a map on the wall. “You can ask at the Ideas Orchard, though. Even if a thing is largely forgotten, the Librarians probably have a record of it. Let me draw you a map; is that a Stratigraphy Skirt? I will mark it on there too, and you can start fresh in the morning.”

Nightshade fixes dinner of candied yams and tomato soup; Prism is delighted to assist, making a seaweed salad, and creating a pie for dessert with some of the dried fruits and nuts Tonic packed. When the meal is prepared, Nightshade invites everyone out to the pergola to eat dinner in the sweet night air. The dryad cautions the trio not to touch the remains of the gingerbread house. They all enjoy the meal and watch as the mushrooms start to glow along the path. Watching carefully with Nightshade’s direction, they get to see the nearly-invisible firey foxes running gleefully down the path, and lighting the mushrooms’ glows. 

Once the food is finished and the foxes have fled, Atcher starts to take out the Night Tent, but Nightshade insists they all sleep in the Juicetooth Library. The Juicetooth is filled with comfy cushions, and the trio have no problem falling asleep.

A large, hardy, well-read and rather worn book full of writing and illustrations sits in front of the friends. They look over the fascinating book and marvel at the intermittent illustrations. The book has a solid binding, rippled pages, and is made mostly of lotus and papyrus. 

“I think this is the book that fell out of my bag at my Conclusion.” Flipping through the pages, Tonic sounds bewildered, “It’s Graemes’s journal! I didn’t know Graemes kept a journal. I’ve seen the book on the shelf where Graemes always shoves stuff, but I never bothered to read it. It’s all about traveling.”

Prism points to a page and asks, quite puzzled, “What things are the worlds between?”

Finding the spot in the book that the sprite is looking at, Tonic clarifies “the World’s Between are the places where overlapping worlds connect. It is the ‘between’ space of the worlds, like a doorway. Graemes describes the World’s Between  as… well, there is only so much space… I  mean” Tonic tries again with a nose-wrinkle, “There is a lot of space Universe-wise, but the magic of life tends to cause clusters of reality. So where you have one world with enough magic for life, you get multiple realities overlapping.” Noticing the friends’ confused expressions, Tonic continues “It is rather like when I put leaves in a big, open teapot.” The gnome opens the sourwood teapot on the table, and swirls the water and leaves inside by way of example. “There is plenty of water for the leaves to all spread out. But the leaves tend to cluster together” Tonic points to the settling sediment “they group up in the best spaces for tea leaves to be.”

“And the universe is like that too!” Tonic continues enthusiastically. “The universe is like one big teapot, and the magic which supports life and stories settles like clusters of tea leaves!” Beaming at the demonstration, the gnome goes on. “Since there isn’t room in one world (or section of teapot) for all of the realities (or tea-clusters) that settle there, the possibilities overlap, and the World’s Between is how you get from one reality to another.” Proud of the metaphor, Tonic asks “Does that make sense?”

Prism and Atcher think it over, exchanging looks.

“Not really” Prism admits.

“But we are glad you understand it!” Atcher enthuses.

Reading quickly while flipping leaves furiously, Tonic motions to the journal between them, “It seems that Graemes wrote this tome while traveling, and it describes the World’s Between, an astonishing array of folk, Wildlings, and the World of Myth.”

Prism’s eyes flash “Wait! ‘Wildlings’? Wasn’t that the word your panel wrote in your Conclusion?” 

Atcher nods in surprise, with coppery-patina eyes shining, while taking the Bit back from Turbine, and tucking it securely into a belt pocket.

Tonic agrees thoughtfully, “Yes, that’s right. I think this book is just what I need. Remember when I was thinking about how much Graemes has traveled? How I wanted an adventure? But I put that aside to finish Craft Conclusions, and then there was so much to do I sort of forgot. Maybe it’s time to try again. Who remembers the last time Graemes visited? And no one even knows exactly where Graemes’s most recent adventure IS. I think this journal might help find our missing mentor.” 

Sprite, brownie, and gnome look over the journal, trying to decipher the point of it all. They peruse the journal, pausing at any story or illustration that catches their attention, and discover a kind of story to it, a story about lives and experiences.

After some time, Tonic picks up the previous thought, “This journal is Graeme’s story...Graeme’s life. They might be the same thing.” Tonic’s voice is full with a mix of respect and longing. “Graemes has met and spent time with a lot of people while traveling, and written the stories down. All these stories seem to say ‘I am here. They are here.’ and illustrates that we all have stories; our lives are all stories to ourselves.”

Tonic pauses, and Atcher and Prism watch their friend, who clearly has some big thoughts to express. Tonic rushes on, “I feel like my story hasn’t gone anywhere. What have I learned? What narrative do I have? I want to meet some of the people written about in the journal, and learn more stories. I want to find Graemes. I want to travel and learn curious rituals and visit with uncommon folk!”

Prism shifts uncomfortably, but waits for the gnome to finish.

“I love my house, and my friends, my gardens and my work.” Tonic goes on “But I also want to experience what else is out there! Graemes has traveled so much, and I still live where I always have. Maybe it is time I go wander, go learn new things, meet strange situations. Graemes always said ‘Travel changes you’ and I want to grow and change! I think it’s time to go outside my comfortable and known.”

Atcher and Prism look at each other in surprise, then Prism’s stormy eyes look hard at the gnome. “That sounds like a Wanderlust.” The sprite’s blue-grey hair ripples and froths with concern. “You just found your Craft! Don’t you want to blend? You could create teas for the Samovar or the Curatives. Reading a book is one thing, a whole Wanderlust adventure is another thing.”

Atcher’s feet shift uneasily, and send the full belt jangling. “Remember those questions you asked us, before our Conclusions? About our passions and how we want to help the world? Your passion is tea. You want to help the world with healing blends and tasty steeping, don’t you? Are you sure you want to leave just when you are about to start?” The brownie frets and crinkles a page of the birchbark journal.

Tonic breathes in sharply, and ponders as Prism swims in sharp circles.

Atcher whispers “You can’t ignore a Wanderlust, though. You would lose your Drive and Spark; you would grey to dust if you did.”

Prism nods decisively. “That’s true, Atcher. A Wanderlust can’t be ignored. Tonic, if you want to go, we support you. How can we help?”

Tonic’s persimmon eyes glow with determination. “Your support means a lot; let’s make some journey preparations!”

“We should gather knowledge, skills, and supplies” Atcher states. “Let’s bring Graemes’s journal, for sure. We should take maps, and good boots and coats. I will groom my Sudden Ideas, and look for Bits and Pieces.”

Prism swirls with excitement, and pipes up “We will need to know where we are going and how to get there, good thinking. We will also need to find food, drink, and safety on the journey. I can train our Wind Rabbits for communication, in case we get separated. And they can cool us and brace us along!”

As Tonic starts to speak, a curious thing occurs.

A small magic stirs around the room, glittering in the sunlight, swirling against everyone, then bursting into light. Tonic stands up straight, patting both brown-green hair puffs nervously. “Well, that seems a propitious start to our adventure. Something magic just happened. I hope it’s helpful.” 

Looking around the garden, Tonic asks, “Bramble, will you watch over the gardens? I don’t know anyone who can care for them better!” The blackberry plant curls a tendril in the breeze. “Thank you.” Tonic responds, while packing the Mighty Teaspoon Hammer for the trip.

All three friends positively fizz with energy, excited to go, though none of them yet know where. 

Prism muses, “I know Clover has to keep working with the Marzipandas. That pooka will have no time for a Wanderlust, but I bet Clover could check on Bramble while we’re gone, and help out with your garden.”

Atcher breaks off a small willow and weaves a new hair tie. “It helps to have a companion or two on a journey, so I’m glad we are all together.. Oohh! Prism, you said safety, which reminds me;    we can take my new Contraption!” the brownie dances with delight “It’s a Night Tent, and can convert into a boat! But also, it sometimes turns into a squashed sandwich.”

The trio begin tidying, packing, and generally preparing the house and garden. Prism sends Undertow to deliver the request about Bramble to Clover. Scones are baked, plants pruned, prunes planted, books organized, and lists made. Atcher follows a Sudden Idea to the East window and takes some measurements, announcing, “I already made a Scrubby Bubbleup to clean the cauldrons, and fixed a geode basin so it would leak for the roaming Click Fish.”

The friends work and pack, and ensure everyone’s homes are cared for, before deciding they are as prepared as they can be for the unknown. 

Looking at the seafoam satchel, peach pack, and bronze bag, Atcher wonders “Well-packed is good, but then what? How do we start our adventure? Which direction do we go? We don’t have any clues…” The brownie heads home, with a head full of worries, and finds sleep difficult that night.

The Mighty Teaspoon Hammer shimmers in the sunlight, and with a groaning HEAVE Tonic sends the Teaspoon SMASHING down onto the Maple Mortar. With a smash, smack, crash, crack! the seeds become a fine powder and are added to the black pepper and licorice root.

As Tonic clears away the debris, Atcher comes down the path at a quick click, huffing and puffing “I brought a Piece!” 

Prism, too, hollers exhilaration at Tonic, arms windmill through the water, "The collars are done!"

Cheering “Greetings and Hospitality!” the gnome waits for either friend to make sense, one hand on a hip and the other on the Mighty Teaspoon Hammer.

Atcher explains that the Piece was found while following a Sudden Idea, “and Pieces become ever so useful if there’s a Bit to go with them!” 

Tonic grins with surprise “I found a Bit hiding in the house just this morning! You will need to go catch it, Atcher; it hid before I could hiccup.”

Prism gushes with enthusiasm “I completed the mist collars and caught you each a Wind Rabbit!” The sprite pulls out a twitching, kicking seafoam satchel full of boisterous air to show the friends. Tonic’s orange eyes go saucer-round with delight “That’s amazing, Prism!”

While Tonic and Prism make space for the Wind Rabbits outside, Atcher goes inside and catches the Bit with ease, finding it asleep on top of a book in Tonic’s teapot. As the brownie brings out the Bit still asleep on the book, Prism proudly displays two thin loops from the otherwise empty satchel. “I made one for each of us” the sprite explains “they help you form a bond with your Wind Rabbit by telling you their name, and the collars allow you to see them. Otherwise the Wind Rabbits are as invisible to you as a bluster.” 

Prism scoops a loop out of the air, and for the first time Tonic and Atcher notice a small rabbit, shimmering like the reflection of wind and bouncing like bubbles, racing around Prism; the rabbit jumps and turns around the sprite, kicking up air and splashing flecks of water around. It is the perpetual gust that is always around Prism!

“This is my Undertow. A beautiful Gale, and a really lucky wind for me.” Prism states while petting the rambunctious rabbit. Next Prism hands a bundle of air to Atcher. Once Prism puts the collar on, it coalesces into a rabbit-shaped shifting, sparkling, mineral mist. Looking at the cordite-braided collar, the brownie reads the word ‘Turbine’ just above a gear pendant.

“I caught you each a Zephyr. They are a playful, friendly breed of Wind Rabbit.” Prism proudly pronounces.

With a joyful laugh, Tonic accepts the other fistful of twisting turbulence. Looking at the ceramic collar on the lagomorph materializing of sweetly-scented curling vapor, Tonic says “Hello, Steam! Tomorrow I’m going to make you a teapot to rest in.”

Atcher sneezes suddenly, and Turbine bolts around, rattling windows and turning cartwheels. Steam escapes as well, adding a susurrus to the ruckus. Undertow joins in, and the Wind Rabbits tumble playfully around the garden, kicking up brush and knocking over the book and Bit who had burrowed inside it to nap.

The book is called Curious Rituals of Uncommon Folk, and it is written by Graemes.

The Wheel of the Year turns. Soon Summer will be over, and Autumn looms crisp and crunchy on the horizon. Atcher, Prism, and Tonic visit together regularly to study and practice their skills. Clover often stops by to share stories and help, between work duties at the Bloomiery and Apis Distillery. While the friends study for their Craft Courses, and try not to fret or worry, they also talk through the day and do their best to support each other. They take turns focusing on each other’s interests, and offer encouragement; sometimes they tend the gardens, or bake scones, or spin dandylion thread, or dig up stones. Always they share stories and ideas.

One such early Autumn day, while they practice skills and help each other rehearse facts for the Conclusions, Tonic speaks up. “I was thinking today about how many tea flavors are out there, and that led me to thinking about the world, and how much Graemes travels. I miss Graemes coming to visit! And…maybe I want an adventure of my own.” Tonic takes a deep breath “I want to find Graemes. I want to go learn new things!”

Prism’s breeze blows anxiously, gusting around the scent of sea salt and ozone like a tidal wave. “We haven’t even completed Professor Tome’s course yet; you know Tome gets cross when anybeing leaves a Craft Course early!”

 “You are right. We need to finish our Craft Courses, and do our best on our Conclusions.” Tonic agrees, in a hesitant way. “Whatever they might mean to us, we started with this training and we should finish it.”

Atcher adds the encouragement “Then we can decide what to do from there, after Conclusions are completed!”

Over the course of days, and in between courses, the friends continue to help each other study and practice. They fall into a comfortable routine as the days slide into crispness, and Craft Conclusion studies become their sole focus. Some days they study quietly, some days are loud with games of Quiz Catch.

And then:

It is Conclusion day, and Tonic wakes, slowly unfurling limbs. “Time to break our fast!” The gnome calls out the window to Bramble. Sleepily sipping tea, Tonic takes a cooled cupful out to the blackberry by the door. In the tea garden, Tonic ensures all the plants have plenty of compost and a warm layer of woodchips. The gnome sings and talks while working in the garden, tending every plant. Once done, Tonic grabs the peach pack from the door, swiftly shoves in some supplies, belatedly remembers to brush the garden dirt off, and heads to Professor Tome’s Conclusion.

It is Conclusion Day, and Atcher wakes with a creak and a groan. The brownie sits bolt upright when a Sudden Idea lands squarely on the bed. Atcher pets the fleeting Idea, and feeds it a sketch and a notion. Dressing in a favorite set of bismuth-hued brogues, Atcher bounds to the door. Then the brownie corkscrews and comes right back in to grab the bronze bag from the bed. Turning several more times, Atcher finally remembers to oil the door hinges, break fast with a hearty stone soup, and bring the birchbark journal along.

It is Conclusion Day, and Prism wakes in a fluttering mood, pushing off waves of sheets. The sprite feeds crunchy leaves to the ever-present breeze as it ruffles curtains and blows dust bunnies around the room. Next Prism washes tangled waves, checks on the clouds, and cleans up a messy current. After breaking fast with a bowl of beautifully brined bubbles and grabbing the seafoam satchel, Prism rushes out the door trailing a wake of confidence.

A dizzying forever later, after Conclusions, Atcher and Prism wait outside for Tonic, trading tales of their day.

“Clover was in the Cluster judging my Conclusion.” Atcher goes on, “They always need more brownie builders at the Bloomiery. – there’s so much honey comb to build, flowers to tend, and amber gems to make. Plus pollen distribution, and the hive works! Clover offered me work there. Did you know I had to build two Devices, while timed, over a volcano crevice? And they didn’t provide me with any Promising Possibilities! Fortunately, I had brought a Sudden Idea in my birchbark, and it worked perfectly. Alloy even asked to keep it – said they could raise it and use it near the Trellis. My final Conclusion was Builder with strong Inventing. Or was it Inventor with strong Building? The point is, I’m stoked!”

Prism is ebullient, describing in detail the harrowing tasks with manticores, no moon, razorfish, and a bleeding coral. “With Rivulets and seaspray everywhere! But I tamed the Seaserpent and managed to get the Whirlpools back into the pen. I was docked points for leaving my tasks to untangle a young kelpie caught in seaweed. Professor Woolen gave me extra marks, though, for a Storm Empath.  I still have scratches where the Seaserpent thrashed me during its tantrum. I’m glad to bits that serpent’s tempter finally blew over! My Tally took some time, and I was afraid I had washed out.” Prism gushes “My Conclusion was Weather with strong Tidal Tendencies!”

Many more students leave, in various states of excitement, sobriety, and in all cases, sometimes nursing wounds. When Prism and Atcher find Tonic sitting in a gloomy sadness, they are worried about their wilted friend. 

“My Conclusion was inconclusive.” Tonic mopes. “Professor Tome said I would need to stay after to talk, after everyone was done.” Tonic’s green puffs are tattered, but the gnome stirs up some courage and asks, “How did you two do?”

Before Prism and Atcher can answer, Professor Tome calls Tonic over to speak. Brownie and sprite are anxious for their friend, but wait patiently while the professor is speaking.

When the professor walks away, Tonic bubbles at the waiting friends, “I’ve been Concluded a Steeper! I can officially do Teawork, and was given an application for the Samovar!” Tonic’s expression turns bitter as orange peel while continuing, “They noted my knowledge and curiosity, and wrote down ‘Wildling’ with distaste. I don’t know what that means, but it didn’t seem good. And I’m restricted from travel! It was odd, but I think it was a book that bothered them.” Tonic pauses in recollection “ When a book fell out of my pouch, the panel started noting things in my Conclusion. They said I might ‘be a risk’ so I’m not allowed to travel for three full moons. The book didn’t seem to be anything special; it was just an old thing Graemes left at my house. I must have grabbed it by accident this morning.”

Atcher tries to direct focus on the good and exclaims “I’m so excited to know your blends will soon be in all the Tea Houses. And an application to the Samovar?! Exclusive! I will construct a gadget to move mountains just to visit you at the Samovar.” 

Prism joins in with a gusty sigh “I want to see your tin design for the tea you sell at the Samovar! Do you think they will really require special Clickfish to serve the tea in bubbles of fresh and salt water?”

Cheering up from the friends’ enthusiasm, Tonic’s mood visibly lifts. The three friends celebrate their successes with dancing and singing silly songs, and cheering each other on. While eating candied kelp and Raincakes that Prism brought, Tonic holds high some kelp, and cheers “To Conclusions and new beginnings!” They all heartily applaud. The trio of friends joke and play stories of their Conclusions, reenacting their favorite scenes. In the middle of a bite Atcher laughs and snorts a morsel of cake, and consequently coughs, sneezies, and causes much concern. The friends pat the brownie’s back, offer water to drink, generally try to help. With eyes still watering, Atcher, Tonic, and Prism decide that is enough festivity for one day, and head home in bright moods.

The sprite, brownie, and gnome live their lives and forget about finding Graemes for a while. The brownie visits the Bloomiery, and works on Building skills. The sprite studies up on Tides, and trains the breezes that always blow around the lake. The gnome tends the tea gardens, and sends in the application to the Samovar. Grand Plans and Wild Ideas melt away into mundane tasks. And our story could end here: the Marzipandas get fed honey and almonds, the tea plants get harvested, gears get cut, tides turn, and the friends live regular lives.

But, one day, as Tonic crushes up some particularly recalcitrant Anise seeds, something different happens.

There are so many places to begin; so many stories to choose from, and paths to take.

Let us begin on an ordinary path of soil and stone, through an ordinary garden of bushes, up to the door of an ordinary house. Well, perfectly ordinary for where it is.

In the garden, the sunlight glints on metal as the Mighty Teaspoon Hammer crashes down onto the Maplestump Mortar. A resounding CRACK rends the air. In a puff of pulverized dust, the last of the oats and beech nuts are vanquished, ground up fine.

The wielder of the Mighty Teaspoon Hammer is a gnome of tea, named Tonic Cuppa.

Tonic lives in a teapot house, with one cinnamon tree growing among the tea bushes out front, and a nicely tended tisane garden out back with pine, lemon, elder, sage, lavender, and many more good plants to steep.

Tonic and the house both waft of all things tea; the fresh of mint and orange, the warmth of nutmeg and clove, the uplifting of jasmine and peach blossoms, all swirled together. Near the front walk is a sturdy Maplestump Mortar. It is upon this mortar that Tonic uses the Mighty Teaspoon Hammer as pestle to crush and powder nuts, bark, and other tough ingredients for tea. After being ground and mixed, the ingredients are stored in a variety of neatly-labeled tins until they are ready to sip.

The ornate Passion Flower cauldron near the front door Tonic uses to brew delicate blends, and the sharp Chestnut Burr cauldron opposite it for tough, unruly blends. The blackberry by the cauldrons watches over the garden. Gnome and Bramble have been best friends since they were both new.

Once the Maplestump Mortar is clean and ingredients stored away inside the house, Tonic sits on a brightly colored cushion, buffing out dents in the Mighty Teaspoon Hammer. Looking into a mug of finished tea, Tonic notices the leaf dregs and perks up just before the garden bell rings. With sunlight pouring in through the saucer-shaped windows, the gnome’s house is steeped in light. Racing first to the ceramic kitchen, muttering, “Tea cups! Vaccinium tea cups,” and then walking carefully to the door, Tonic’s brown hair puffs and leafy-green tips seem to glow in the sun, and dirt smudges and tea stains show through the sturdy brown and green outfit’s brightly stitched leaf patterns.

Tonic cheerfully declares “Greetings and Hospitality!” while opening the green walnut-hull door of the house and walking out to offer the waiting friends a “fresh cup of Rosehip-Violet-Mallow tea for you; I made this blend for Port Manteau, to help the sailors stay healthy and keep way scurvy. What do you think?!”

A small pooka with spiky black hair buzzes up to Tonic first. Putting an acorn basket brimming with honey down on the garden table to sip the tea, Clover Miel dances with delight. “What a sweet concoction; I shall have to tell everyone back at the Bloomiery and Apis Distillery! I would like to trade some for our newest batch of honey.” Then Clover adds confidentially, “Today’s honey is primarily from blueberry, apricot, and thyme.” The two friends agree to trade a tin of tea for an acorn of honey.

The brownie sitting on the stone ties back long, quartzey hair and the playful garnet hues hidden in it, with willow reed and grape vine. Grey-green eyes brim with curiosity as Tonic passes over a cup of tea. Taking a big sip, Atcher Service makes a chirrup of delight, and humms so happily that some tea sloshes! With amethyst shirt and citrine socks now soaked, the brownie quickly pulls out an extra cloth from a pocket on the complex belt (which is full of tools for making jewelry, gadgets for fixing gears, and several Possibility Parts). While mopping up the spill, Atcher asks “What makes the blend so sparkly?”

As the tea gnome replies, Atcher takes out a birchbark journal (brownies highly prize these birch bark journals, because they keep the ideas inside fresh) and writes down notes including the question “Camellia sinensis; what makes white, green, and black tea?” then discovers a Sudden Idea while sketching a new wire design. Brownies often keep Sudden Ideas as pets; some even transform into Useful Creations and do heaps of good in the world. Sudden Ideas must be fed with research, exercised with practice, and given lots of attention. These cute critters might look like just about anything, they tend to have a snail or nautilus shell, and are most easily seen and identified by brownies and other creators.  

Tonic hands a cup of tea to the water sprite, who is happily splashing in the stream. Prism Cirrus swishes the delicate cup joyfully before gulping the tea down, while an ever-present breeze ruffles the sprite’s short, wavy hair, making the ends foam and curl like ocean waves. Offering the last bit of tea in the cup to the whirling wind, Prism’s smile shines. “A delicious blend, Tonic. Thank you!”  

With a hiccupping buzz, Clover puts down an empty tea cup, and zooms away down the path. The pooka’s rich voice echoes back “Sorry I cannot stay; I’ve got to fly back to the Bloomiery or the Marzipandas will be ravenous! Well met, and meet again!”

The three remaining friends enjoy time in Tonic’s garden sipping tea, tasting honey, and discussing their upcoming Craft Course Conclusions. They bask in the sunlight that idly frisks through the tea leaves, dappling the garden, and enjoying the cool breeze that always floats around Prism. While quietly relaxing, each friend considers the upcoming Conclusion Day.

Tonic worries: Am I good enough? Strong enough? Can I brew and smash and blend the way they want? What if I have to grow a plant? That takes me ages… Will anyone like my tea?

Prism frets, flipping frothing locks of seafoam away: Who will I be? Conclusions determine our work and our future. We chose our Craft Courses, and our future is firm. Will I wither without Weather? Can Tides truly turn a task terrible? Conclusions are the Culmination of our curricular career! Oh, I’m so scared I’m ailing with alliterations…

Atcher sketches furiously, channeling nervousness into productivity: Am I inspiring enough? How many nibs will I break? Do I have the charisma to influence others? Does anyone really enjoy my art? What if my mechanics are all wrong? Will I trip and spill and break everything?

After this thought-filled pause Prism pipes up, “Is it really, though? I mean… I was just thinking about our upcoming Conclusions. And, well, they always seem so important. I just wondered if they are, really? We get evaluated on our skill in the crafts we chose to take, that is true. But do the Conclusions actually determine who we are? Do they dictate what we do, or set our worth?”

Atcher encourages the friends with a smile. “Conclusions are just one teacher’s perception, on one day. As tests they seem so big and important, and very scary. But really, Prism is right. We will do our best, and no matter what our Conclusions turn out to be, we will still be exactly who we are.”

Feeling better, Tonic adds “Did you know that Clover never took a Craft Course or Conclusion? Clover is great! And entirely self-taught. The honey from the Apis Distillery wouldn’t be half as good if Clover weren’t there. That pooka knows efficiency!”

Dusting speckled, moss-bark hands together after washing up the dishes, Tonic asks “How would you like to help the world? What are your favorite skills? How far have you traveled? Do you ever wonder what other places are like? Do you think there could be different jobs and needs in other places?”

Prism’s answer is breezy, “The water is my passion. I would like to work with tide and current traffic and schedules. Or possibly have a tidalpool farm, where I could keep a fluffle of Wind Rabbits. It might be interesting to work with my cousin on Storm Runs too.”

After some thought, Atcher answered with an avalanche of words, “I love working with metals and stones; it is so satisfying to find a fascinating stone, polish it, research it, learn about it, and combine it with a beautiful metal to create meaningful jewelry! Did you know I’m researching a Stratigraphy Skirt? Beauty and expression are so subjective and definitive of who we are; I want to keep creating things that help people express their emotions and their core. Of course, I enjoy inventing and tinkering with gears too. I wonder if I could make beautiful, wearable items with metal and stones and moving gears? Ohhh, what if...” and here Atcher’s words tumble to a halt as the birchbark journal is brought out again. The brownie takes time to capture some questions and thoughts on paper, while Prism and Tonic explore the streambank.

Then the three friends laugh and play and forget their worries for a bit; it was soothing to let out their fears, and comfort each other with kindness and silliness. The Conclusions still loom large, but their looming seems a little less ominous with the support of friends. Still, the trio will face their Conclusions one day, and sooner than they might want.