Previous: Wyr Weariness
Hazel trailed after Hemlock as they climbed up the steep edge of a rocky cliff. The stones were damp and coated with moss. Hazel grabbed onto a clump of the growth to pull herself up, but it tore free and she had to grab onto a tree root to keep her balance.
Hemlock glanced down at her. “Are you all right?”
She scowled up at him. “I’m fine. Let’s just keep moving before I fall and break my neck.”
Somehow, they managed to reach the top, and Hazel hoisted herself over the edge with about as much grace as a slug in the sink. She looked down at her dress–all coated in mud and torn in a sleeve where she snagged it on a branch. She peered at Hemlock. “Tell me again why we’re here?” Continue reading
In Sweden, Christmas just isn’t Christmas without the traditional Yule Goat—or Julbocken. The origins of the Yule Goat aren’t exactly clear. Some seem to think there’s a connection between the Yule Goat and Thor’s goats, Tanngrisnir and Tanngnjóstr, who pulled the thunder god’s chariot. There’s another theory of the last sheaf of grain in a harvest having magical properties. I like this theory, as it rather explains why Yule Goats are made of straw. Continue reading
Previous: Skyward Promises
Hazel stood in the living room of their cottage as Holly held out a box of crystal vials containing a clear liquid.
“Possibility potions,” Hazel said, her voice flat.
“That’s what Odd said they were,” Holly said.
Hazel frowned. She reached out to touch one of the little bottles but pulled her hand back instead. “I don’t understand. How are we supposed to use them?” Continue reading
Previous: Odd Possibilities
Hazel and Holly walked along the darkening narrow path as the chirps and croaks of crickets and frogs pierced the warm twilit air. Hazel carried a lamp, but it would need to remain unlit for the time being.
“Are you nervous?” Holly asked.
“Why would I be nervous?” said Hazel.
“You’re going to become a Wyr witch. That’s kind of scary.”
“It’s just a formality, it’s not like anything’s going to change right away.” She glanced at Holly. “And why is it scary?” Continue reading
You might not know this about me, but I have a slight food obsession—particularly in fantasy literature. I don’t know what it is, but descriptions of food in made-up worlds are particularly engaging to me. I think it’s because they help bring that world to life in a way that simple descriptions can’t. We all need to eat, and it can be telling what kinds food a person or a society eats. Also, I’m just fond of domestic life in general. When in a museum, it’s the paintings of kitchens and women doing laundry that capture my attention more than portraits of kings or Madonnas ever could.
Now with Christmas approaching, and me thinking about food a little bit more than normal, I thought it would be fun to do a post about some food and cooking history. This is the kind of information that I find quite interesting, and that may or may not find its way into a story at some point in the future. Continue reading
Previous: Tea with Tum
Holly and Tum waited at The Green Man for night to fall. He drank three more beers, promising that the last was an advance on the following week’s wages. When the daylight finally faded and darkness settled in, he hopped off his stool, tottered a bit, and then righted himself and threw Holly a great big smile.
“Right,” he said. “Off we go, then.” He shambled towards the door.
“Where are we going, exactly?” Holly asked as she followed.
He stopped and blinked at her. “Go?” Continue reading