I was in the still room when the back door wards hummed at me. I checked the camera feed on my phone, Sarah and her new friends were coming to visit, this could be interesting. I opened the door before they knocked, and the Highsmith girl gasped. “She’s psychic.” The fake American one rolled her …
I was repotting young Ben's wellfern - he's growing like nobody's business just now, so naturally the plant assigned to monitoring his health is putting out new shoots, and roots, all but cracking its pot in response. I had it happily re-planted in a wide wooden tub on the windowsill of my still room, and …
My plans for the morning took an unexpected turn when Jason Bandswich from the Manor called. Not that it’s unusual for him to call, he’s a sweet boy, an American tech genius who sold something terribly clever for a ridiculous amount of money and decided to take a break from ‘the scene’ by exploring his …
It's a little-known fact that a core part of the school curriculum for young elementals is a solid grounding in human fairytales and myths. Our local head teacher does not wish their students to accept these stories, and their depictions of both humans and fae, uncritically, so made a trade with me. Their side of …
My latest traveller came the other way, up the mountain, rather than down. Most going in that direction pass my home early enough that they don't care to stop. The pass is ahead, beckoning with the promise of a crest and a downhill run by evening if they keep going. It's true too, they will …
Today was a foraging day. The garden was well in hand, the bees content, and the Holmeshallow Farm children both away on school camps (for which I think their teachers should be given medals, and a week away at the most relaxing country spa you can find). My foraging basket sits by the back door, …
It's been unseasonably warm this week and someone (or something) has been using my garden sprinklers to cool off. I'd not normally be bothered but whoever it is as no concept of moderation and has all but drowned the herb beds, not to mention leaving the hydrangeas wet, in the full glare of the sun. …
It’s been unusually quiet since Archer moved down to the village, only a merchant family, regular visitors and well-known to Her Majesty, so I’ll not spend the time or ink until they have a story to share. They did give my direction to my latest visitor though. She encountered them near the head of the …
I, in a weak moment, had agreed to keep an eye on both the Holmeshallow Farm kids for the day. Not that I should be referring to Sarah as a child, she'd be mortally offended. Ben, on the other hand, is a textbook example of a boisterous, curious boy-child, who leaps into trouble like it's …
Let me tell you of the first guest I have received since Her Majesty’s request. A tall, quiet man with dark hair and an aura of secrets going by the name of Archer. And, yes, he knew how to use the bow and arrows he carried. He arrived at my door in the pink of …
The DNA of Stories 