Three Twisted Knots

From Lira:

Look. I have mentioned before that we Chimerical Beings are not meant to dream. My rest-from-the-world space should be blank oblivion, and that’s how I like it. I am not super happy when something like this happens (again), but here we go. Again.

Jaysus, what makes that kind of racket in the wee small hours? Of course I had the windows open on the sunset side: Mammy’d kill me dead if she thought I went to bed without a window open. I can hear her now. “Stink up the house, you will.” I’m hearing another name in my head, but I can’t spell it, so I’ll translate as I go.

“You know what?” I said aloud. “It’s the bloody clock.” I glared at it as I made my way toward the door. “What good are you? You’re not even set to the right time. Bloody tick tick bloody tick.” When I opened the doors, at least the night had a good smell. Lots of mist, but not a smoky mist, like. I vaguely recalled thinking it was a little misty, but I was able to see to put food on the table and get the horses and the cat some dinner.

Basics? I arrived here last night. I’m travelling by myself, which feels like it should be unusual, but also feels like it’s what I do, even though this house is big enough for I reckon five if you put in an upper bunk and bundled in with the wee ones.

Still, it’s good, when you light somewhere, to stretch out a bit. So that’s why food already on the table, though I can’t recall if I ate anything before going to bed. Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’m hungry. Best check on the horses first, though, I thought. That would be the responsible thing to do.

Dorcha and Faineor are faerie horses, so they are a bit prettier than other horses. At least I think they are.

“You go back to bed,” said Dorcha. “Too late for bipeds. You go back to bed, Lira.”

“Am I Lira here?” I looked down at my heavily freckled hands.

“Well, if you’re not,” said Faineor, “You don’t half smell like her.”

I scratched my head. “Why is this shite so confusing?” I asked. Not the horses: even faery horses are comparatively dumb as rocks. I think we found that out about Dorcha when I learned of his unfortunate taste in vintage pop music.

“And another thing,” I said to myself. “That clock was not there last night. I’m sure it wasn’t.”

“You mean that one?” Dorcha was trying to be helpful. He gestured to his right, where a path went further into the forest.

“I don’t think that one was here, either, last night,” I said. “Or maybe the mist was thicker than I thought. Or maybe I was — hey, that’s my old cow lamp from the Treehouse!” Sure it was, right enough, my cow abduction lamp! I ran over and pressed the button, then ran back so I could see their reactions. I guess I forgot momentarily that horses are not blessed with keen senses of humour. “See, when you press that button, the spaceship hums and it sucks the cow right up!”

“Too little to get us, hey?” Faineor responded. “Are all the faery cows that small? No wonder they want offerings of milk.”

I opened my mouth, then closed again. Nope. Not even worth a reply. I just wasn’t going to go there.

When Faineor looked at me and raised the skin around his brow ridge in a questioning way, I managed a little smile. “Let me get you boys some apples,” I said.

“Hello, Dorcha?” I held the apples under his nose, but he was having none of it. “You diva: I brought these for you.”

“Don’t want them. Give them to Draft Boy over there.”

Faineor sniffed. “I,” he said, as stuffily as a very pampered boy horse can manage, “am a light draft horse.” He snorted. “Not a drop of Clydesdale in here.”

I bit my tongue: it’s probably bad form to tell a horse you’ve read its breed spec, and there is definitely ‘some Clydesdale in there.’ Then I coughed, purely to regain my composure. “You take the apples then, Faineor. I’m not going to stand here holding them ’til dawn.” I glared at Dorcha. “And His Highness won’t eat them if they’re dirty.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” replied Faineor. “When you’re the only horse hauling that,” and he gestured with his nose toward the vardo, “you work up a bit of an appetite.”

Dorcha sniffed. “I was providing spiritual support. And besides, only one of us can fit in the harness.”

“If we were both in a harness in front of this rig, I’d be even more burdened, because you’d just lift your pretty hooves off the ground and let me carry you.” Faineor ate an apple and a half so quickly I was sure it wasn’t good for him, then spoke with his mouth full of the third one. “Tank you kindly Liwa.”

I rolled my eyes. It’s bad enough having to listen to horses bicker, but trying to parse your way round a mouth full of apple is a bit too much. “Right,” I said. “Not feeling sleepy, so I’m going to go investigate that meadow we passed through on our way in. I’ll give a scream if I need anything.”

“We’ll alert the authorities,” snipped Dorcha. Why do I love him? I have no clue.

The fog seemed to thin a little bit over the big meadow we’d travelled through hours before. I chuckled when I discovered a large tree already decorated for Samhain, little glamoured ghosts dancing around it, lights in its orange branches. “I guess they don’t waste any time here,” I said to myself, even though it’s a bare fact most of the Realms give Samhain more than just a passing nod. It’s a high holy day, after all, and we would be poor in faith if we did not honour our revered Ancestors. Now, many of us honour our Ancestors all the time, even those of us who don’t technically have any Ancestors: someone came before us, whether or not we know it.

So there I was, standing there just smiling stupidly at that decorated tree, giving a little clock (Yeah; that word is leaving my vocabulary, at least for a little while) to the space-feeling of the meadow, listening to the hoofbeats, night sporting (not like that!) and restlessness of no fewer than six horses, when I felt a nudge against my left side. And I turned. And swore so loudly I would have spooked her, if she didn’t know me. And, well. If she didn’t smell the remains of apples on my hands.

“Clio,” I said, very softly.

“You’ve got apples. Where are the apples?” She poked her nose into my skirt.

“Not on me, Clio. I’ll bring some to you later: we’ve got them stored under the wagon.”

Clio fixed me with a hard stare. “Deliver apples before dawn, and I won’t tell her.”

“You’d do that for me? You’d not tell …”

Clio rolled her eyes and came sharply toward me as if she was going to nip. “I may not have to. Say her name in her kingdom? What do you think happens? Say even her title? For a supposedly superintelligent chimerical librarian, you’re a bit dull.” She snorted.

I gaped. Not since Morti (remember Morti? Morti the Mare?) had I heard a horse speak so much or make so much sense — and honestly, I remain unconvinced that Morti was (or is: who even knows?) an actual horse. I tilted my head and stared at Clio, who snorted at me again.

“And, just for clarification, girl — I would do this for apples. Not for you.”

“And … how many apples were we thinking of today, Clio?”

Ear flick. “That’s more like it. Half a dozen today, and three more for every extra day you expect me not to tell her you’re here.”

“How much for you not to ever tell her that I was here at all?”

“Not in your budget, dear. Now you go on and get me my half dozen apples, or I shall be very cross.”

I swallowed. “Soon as, I promise.”

I beat it back to the vardo, but not before noticing an entire house I’d missed, not to mention a couple of telltale gazebos and a steep tower. Jaysus. This is the fecking Residence, isn’t it? Never have I hoped so hard that Someone Of Note is on some kind of shopping holiday, somewhere very far away.

As I hurried back into the much-smaller-than-it-looked-earlier forest, I noticed a single crow on a Celtic cross stone. Great. Corvids are not super great at keeping secrets, and even though it’s been years, I remember that Her Fae Majesty spends an awful lot of time with a white raven. I’ll bet they’ve got some kind of network, don’t they? I stomped past the horses. I’m sure, I said to myself, that the plan was originally to get something to eat, a nice hot cuppa, and hope it made me sleepy enough to… “What in the blazing pants is this?”

“Simmer down, stompy traveller,” said the largest of three birds, who appeared to be poring over a treasure map. Well, there’s something you don’t see every day. “I remain deeply surprised that you have noticed us at all, since you’ve been back-and-forthing all night, making the devil’s own racket, and you’ve not spared a glance in our direction.”

I sighed. So this was going to be one of those dreams? At least, I desperately hoped it was a dream. Even though I’m not meant to dream. “I apologise. I’ve had rather a difficult night.” I tried to sound as posh as the big raven and failed miserably. “Besides — you’re all black?”

“I beg your pardon! I am prismatic, young lady: you just can’t see my full spectrum, because of your limited human — oh, I see. You’re not human at all, are you? Well, nobody ever told you anything about the colours humans can’t see, did they? Look closer, and squint if you need to— that’s right, just concentrate on me.”

“Wow! You’re all… purply?” I was pretty sure I was going to get it wrong.

“Among other things, but it’s a start. Now. I am Rodomontade Cravat deVille Raven. And this …” he looked down at the smaller bird, who was hopping up and down on the map, “this unfortunate is my quarter-brother Rupert The Raven. He insists we capitalise the ‘the’.”

Oh, help. My chimeric lexicon utterly rejects this name, because ‘Rupert’ means ‘bright.’ And this very small raven is by no means bright, not even when I squint and concentrate. Rodomontade caught me glancing at the third bird. “Are you daft? That’s not a real corvid: it’s a wooden carving. We keep it up there to scare cats.” And he chuckled at his lame joke.

“Rod! Rod! Bro!” carked the smaller bird. “I found the X! I found it!”

The Unpronounceable Raven looked up at me and hissed. “Rupert finds the X every few days. My grandfather hypothesised it had been on this map for some 300 years.”

“Well. Isn’t irony glorious,” I said. “I’ll leave you to it. Please don’t gossip with the other corvids about me. I’ll make chips for tea tomorrow if you promise not to.” I didn’t wait for the answer. I just made a beeline for the table.

Ooh! I didn’t remember putting these cakes out. But they’d go nicely with the tea, wouldn’t they? I loaded up a plate and crossed round the back of the table, so I could have a clear view of whatever the Corvid Contingent was up to… and that’s when I noticed mamó’s omen jar. Now. I knew I had not put that out. It stays safe in a cupboard in the vardo, and that’s that, and bringing that out brings trouble, or that’s what the weird dream memories told me. My lucid Lira brain reminded me that omens are just coincidences that some beings think of as very important.

And now there was a little tussle. I wanted to sit down, have my tea, eat some nice cake, and then try to go back to sleep in traveller dream land which might or might not actually send me out of this dream, but would be better than just sitting in it, but the traveller girl insisted that mamó, which I suddenly realised meant grandmother, would haunt her to the end of the earth if she did not, upon being presented with the Omen jar, reach in and draw out an omen. Joy.

“Fine. We draw an omen, but then we are having tea and cake and going the fuck back to bed. Mamó is not here and I am not watching my language because of a jar.”

I can’t see my own face, but I can feel the face she’s making at me, and it is neither flattering nor positive.

“Mamó, I know you’re up there watching, so let’s draw this omen out and not be afraid of it. It’s a good thing we can see these omens, because not everyone gets an omen jar.” Yes, yes, fine. It’s an omen jar, and this is serious. Carefully, I removed the lid, squeezed my eyes shut, and dropped two fingers in to see what there was to feel. And wasn’t that odd. It was almost as if a little piece of card or paper jumped into my right hand. Now I understood I had to remove this from the jar, replace the lid with my eyes still closed, and then I could finally look at the omen.

I need a word. I’ll contact you in the next few days. Don’t worry: you’re not in trouble. I just want you to help me with a project.

—The Author

“Bloody farting sprites! Oh, shut up; your mamó’s got nothing to do with it. Oh, you do, do you? Please, go on; tell me your name. Niamh? Always liked that one. Yes; I can spell it.”

What could The Author possibly want with me? Suddenly it seemed more important than ever to get the hell out of Awenia as soon as I possibly could, whether or not just going to sleep would get me out of this dream. If it was a dream.

Of course, nothing is ever so straightforward. I turned around because I heard a yowl that sounded like… “Slaine? Have you been hiding under the vardo all this time?”

“Mostly; you were making an insane racket, and one of those ravens is huge. I thought you might want to know there’s a stand in the forest with a bunch of books.” She yawned. “Obviously, I’m not at all interested, but I’d be happy to show you where it is if you want to be all lame and nerdy.”

“Thank you for your enduring confidence in me,” I said gravely.

“Think nothing of it,” replied the cat, seemingly unaware I might have been ever so slightly snarky there.

We passed through a little clearing where there was, yes, a bat mirror, and a bench that to me looked very uninviting because most of it (oh, all right; about a third) was taken up by a very bright jack o’lantern. “Why,” I asked, “would anybody want to make a bat mirror, anyway?”

“I’d say it’s technically not a bat mirror,” replied Slaine. “It’s a heart shaped mirror to which someone has affixed bat wings. Totally different vibe. An actual bat mirror would be, I don’t know, off-putting.”

I stopped when we got to the henge arch. “Just through here?”

“Correct.”

“Have you noticed there are several of these… what are they? I have no idea what they are, but they seem to be differently coloured.”

“I don’t know how you ever got along without me,” declared Slaine. “It’s a luck dragon. Not a predator. Not even creepy. If it decides it likes us, it might even give us a gift of luck.”

“Will that be good luck, or bad luck?” I wondered.

“I am not certain of the difference,” she said. “One person’s good luck might be someone else’s disaster.”

I tallied it up. Pompous raven, check. Diva horse, check. Philosophical cat, check. Mobster horse, also check.

“See? I told you,” Slaine said. “You’ve got butter or cheese or something, right?”

“Not in my pocket.” I sighed. Did everybody just want to shake me down for food? And how long had these books been sitting out here, anyway? Not to mention, who would stack three alchemy books on different shelves, one on top of something called a science encyclopaedia (amusingly it was much slimmer than the alchemy book), and a Catholic bible? “Have you noticed,” I said, when my eyes made it to the top shelf, “that there are an awful lot of clocks in this very small forest?”

“Not that small,” Slaine said. “And no; I didn’t notice. I do not count the time.”

“Who knows where the time goes?” I asked in response.

“What? I don’t effing care: I have no thought of time.”

I didn’t push it. Just because I recently discovered Sandy Denny doesn’t mean everyone has flash-memorised the lyrics to ‘Who Knows Where The Time Goes.’ Instead, I picked up the book about mushrooms. At least it wasn’t alchemy, or science, or the bible. “I’m glad you showed me this,” I said to Slaine. Let’s go back to the vardo and get you a treat.”

“I’m not sleeping in there.”

“You can sleep wherever you like, but if you feel the dream ending, come and catch me.”

“You want to go back in?”

“No, Slaine; I want you to make it out with me.” I stepped into the vardo and grabbed some tuna treats from one of the kitchen cupboards. “And don’t let me forget I have to take apples to Clio before dawn.”

“Do it now; you don’t want to be on her wrong side, given what you’ve told me.”

“Yeah; she’s got quite a racket going on,” I replied. I pocketed the tuna treats and put six apples into a flour sack. “I won’t be a minute.”

In fact, Clio had absolutely no time for me: she just indicated where to stow the apples so nobody else was likely to find them.

Well, that was simpler than it might have been, I thought, as I poured a second cuppa and decided against more cake. “Slaine, I’m going to read on the back of the vardo and then go to bed. I’m leaving the doors open, OK?”

“Whatever,” Slaine called from … somewhere. “Just leave the tuna treats where I can get them.”

“Sure thing!” I called back. I tucked the book into the waistband of my skirt so I could jump up on the back of the vardo: I’d already finished the tea.

And just, just as I was getting myself settled, there came a voice, far too close, that I did not recognise. “Good evening.” Imagine the cheesiest, most dodgy film vampire accent ever.

When I looked toward the voice, there was a black cat. In a cape. With a red collar. “Nope!” I said. And I swung my feet off the vardo ledge and headed straight inside the door at the other end.

“But wait!” called the voice again. “Allow me to introduce myself! I am Count Nopecula!”

I slammed the door. “Nope!” I shouted out the window. “Slaine! Mind the vampcat and if you want your treats, they’re in the kitchen, and you’ll have to come through the window!”

I left one window open a crack and settled into bed. “I had better not see you here in the morning!” I said, through the window to the caped cat.

“I am not a day dweller,” he replied in the same godawful accent. “Sleep well, my sweet faery maiden, and perhaps we will meet again, if fate is kind to me.”

Gagging noises and gestures are just as satisfying if there’s no-one around to know you made them. Just saying.

I curled up on my lovely purple bed and read about mushrooms for approximately 90 seconds before I was fully asleep.

---

Did I escape the dream? No. No, I did not.

Did things get better the next day? I’ll let you be the judge of that. When I dragged myself out of the vardo the next morning, with the mist still thick on the ground like clouds were coming down to kiss the forest, the first thing I needed was a cup of something hot and satisfying. Sadly, all I had was tea; there wasn’t enough coffee to make a French Press full.

Yeah. I’m not even going to start the next part. You can just read the note for yourself. Yeah. That one. The one from the Awenia Demifae Chaossociation.

Great.

Notes & Credits:

(as always, items that were given to me by sponsors, friends, or for review are marked with a “*”)

Featured:

• The Bodacious “Five People Could Live In There!” Vardo: Quills & Curiosities, Phantom Expeditioner*. For today, it’s at the Dog & Pony Show, but DAPS closes today, so be sure to get there. If you’re late on the draw, it’ll be at the Quills & Curiosities Main Store, Soon<tm>.
• Lira’s Subtle & Autumnal Eyeshadow and Lipstick: Hexumbra, Chaos Collection Vol 6, Meris Lipstick & Coraline Eyeshadow*. These are prizes you can win at the Pumpkin Palooza Hunt, which is open until first November. The Chaos Collections are a tradition with Hexumbra at this point, and they always include fun and varied sets. Well worth your time to seek them out.
• Lira’s / Niamh’s Dress: Belle Epoque, Lotte Autumn. This is one of Bell Epoque’s beautiful weekend sale recolours of popular designs. It was out for the September 26 Saturday Sale, but it might still be out at the Belle Epoque Main Store. OK, I checked: It’s still there! Hurry and grab yours.
• Dorcha’s spectacular new coat: Lunistice, Flor de Luna Andina. This gorgeous skin has both PBR and non-PBR textures, and it’s available, for today, at the Dog & Pony Show, but DAPS closes today, so be sure to get there. This coat was a gift from a friend, but I’ve long been a fan of Lunistice’s subtle and beautiful fantasy coats. If you visit Awenia, you will find that many of our Realm horses sport her coat designs. You can visit the Lunistice Main Store if you miss the event; I’m sure the coat will be available there soon. And while you’re there, I dare you to try to resist picking up some of her other stunning designs. (I was personally unable to resist when I visited her store to check this slurl.)

Other Fancy Stuff:

Lira:

• Hair: No Match, No Speed
• Bodacious Freckles: DeeTaleZ, Redhead add-on
• Skin: DeeTaleZ, Siri, in Celtic (no eyebrows)
• Eyebrows: Simple Bloom, JuliaEarth, Soft Arch
• Eyes: Ikon, Inception Eyes, Zenith
  • Eye Objects: Contraption, Depthglass Eyes
• Glasses: Everlune, Autumnvale Spectacles
• Lashes: Void, Demure Lashes
• Necklace: Rise Design, Amelie Necklace
• Boots: Rakshasa, Geirin Boots
• Signature Ring: Badwolf, Fate Ring
• Lira is styled on a Legacy Classic body and a Lelutka EvoX Raven mesh head.

On The Set:

• Animals:
  • Dorcha is portrayed by the Teeglepet Icelandic Horse, Freya. He is a copy horse, but his mane and tail originally came from the Teeglepet Limited Edition Icelandic Horse, Baldur. His coat, as noted above, is the Lunistice Flor de Luna Andina.
  • Faineor is a Teeglepet Irish Cob Horse (his retail for sale name is Clover). His mane and tail are from Raven Bell, the Meadow Mane and Tail. And his coat is Lunistice’s Wish coat.
  • Her Majesty’s Opal Clio is a Teeglepet Arabian. Her mane and tail are also from Raven Bell, the Willow Mane and the Meadow Tail. Her coat is Cinnamon’s White Pearl, and the leg tattoos are from Valkyrie Designed, as are the grey rune hooves.
  • Yes, there really are four other horses on the Island Four Meadow (really must think of a better name for that!), but they appear either small in background shots or as silhouettes in the foggy distance, so you’ll have to visit Awenia to meet them. Most of the horses are set to public, with the exception of horses that do not belong to me and of course Her Fae Majesty’s personal horse will only accept the Queen. The unicorns in the statuary garden are not rideable. Horses on Island Four will not leave their wander radius. However, there is a horse rezzer at the Awenia landing point that includes copies of most of the Awenia horses.
  • Slaine doesn’t appear in any of these photographs, but you already know she’s from CKit Falconry.
  • Count Nopecula is one of the brilliant Hextraordinary Halloween Nope Cats. I love them all, but he had the cheesiest B-movie accent.
  • Ravens & Crows:
    • Prismatic raven: Green Tea, Prismatic Raven
    • The Unfortunate Rupert: Egocentric, Mesh Crow
• Selected Home & Garden Items (because there’s absolutely no way I could credit all of this without losing my mind. If you’re interested in something I haven’t mentioned, please get in touch.
  • Forest Build: Half Deer, Star Garden Forest. I picked this up at this month’s Access event, and I couldn’t be more pleased with the build itself and the customisation options. The whole Star Garden line is worth check out if you love creating great landscapes.
  • Eep throughout, as it arrived and a little bit tweaked: Octubre, Foggy Night.
  • Clocks (So far….?):
    • In the Vardo: Harshlands, The Witching Hour clock. This was a recent weekend sale item, but it’s probably still at the Harshlands Main Store.
    • On the Tree (pointed out by Faineor): D-Lab, Cuckoo Clock Black Cat.
    • On the Book Stand (clock radio): InsurreKtion, Back to the 80’s, Radio Clock.
  • Campsite table, sitting Logs, and Campfire: Harshlands, all from this summer’s Campfire Set.
    • On the Table:
      • Mugs with stirrers: Moss & Luna, Sally’s Enchanted Mug (pictured: cats & ghosts)
      • Tea Service: Peaches, Bee Sweet Tea Service
      • Omen Jar: Brocante, Storage Jar / Omens
      • Mug Tree: Vespertine, Fall Critters Mug Tree
      • Cakes (technically on another table): Raindale, Spookville Cakes
      • Pumpkin Spice Lattes: Laminak, Pumpkin Latte Drinks (at the Love To Decorate Harvest & Home Market)
      • Demifae Treat Basket: Ariskea, Autumn Love Basket (at the Love To Decorate Harvest & Home Market)
      • Sparkly Martini: Moonfest, Moonflower Martini
  • Around & About
    • Crow Stone: Love, Celtic Cross
    • Cow Lamp: Hextraordinary, Alien Abduction Lamp
    • Book Stand: Love, Fantasy Book Stand
    • Arch with Bench & Jack o’Lantern: Raindale, Spookville
    • Not-a-Bat Mirror: Raindale, Moongrim Mirror
    • Megalith Arch: Lore, Druid Stones, Henge 1
    • Luck Dragons (graciously lent by Ember Coakes): MindGardens, Luck Dragons

Thank you for reading these stories. This blog is a labour of love. It costs more to produce than I ever make back in money or product terms, but it feeds my soul. I consider everybody who reads even one post and enjoys it to be a fellow traveller. Nothing I do would be possible without my miraculous partner, Kela, and my stalwart support group, which always includes Mystical Edenflower but this time around includes Remere Rune, Ember Coakes, Ashley Dark-Addams, Darien and Marcel Blackwood, Kadaj Yoshikawa, and Jani La Belle.