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In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
After all the months of secret work for Malové, where Eris was being tasked to scout for profitable new ventures for the Quadrivium’s Emporium that would keep with traditions, and endless due diligence under the seal of secrecy, she’d learnt that the deal had been finally sealed by Austreberthe.
The announcement had just went out, not really making quite the splash Eris would have expected.
Press Release
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Quadrivium Emporium Announces Strategic Acquisition of Spanish based company Quintessivium Cloister Crafts
Limerick, 12th June 2024– Quadrivium Emporium, renowned for its exceptional range of artisanal incense blends and commitment to quality, is pleased to announce the successful acquisition of Quintessivium Cloister Crafts. This strategic move marks a significant milestone in Quadrivium Emporium’s ongoing expansion and diversification efforts.About Quintessivium Cloister Crafts
Quintessivium Cloister Crafts has been a trusted name in the production of high-quality nun’s couture. Known for their craftsmanship and dedication to preserving traditional techniques, started as a small business focussed on quills and writing accessories as well as cardigans, Quintessivium Cloister Crafts has maintained a reputation for excellence and innovation in the market.
Strategic Vision and Synergies
The integration of Quintessivium Cloister Crafts into the Quadrivium family aligns with our vision to expand our product portfolio while maintaining the high standards of quality and craftsmanship our customers have come to expect. This acquisition will allow Quadrivium Emporium to diversify its offerings and tap into new markets and customer segments.
“We are thrilled to welcome Quintessivium Cloister Crafts to the Quadrivium Emporium family,” said Austreberthe Baltherbridge, interim CEO of Quadrivium Emporium. “Their commitment to quality and tradition mirrors our own values, and we are excited about the opportunities this acquisition presents. Together, we will continue to innovate and deliver exceptional products to our customers.”
Future Endeavours
Quadrivium Emporium plans to leverage the expertise and resources of Quintessivium Cloister Crafts to develop new and unique product lines. Customers can look forward to an expanded range of high-quality writing instruments, apparel and accessories, crafted with the same attention to detail and dedication that both brands are known for.
For more information, please contact: media@quadrivium.emporium
The internal memo that they’d received on the internal email list bore some of the distinct style of Malové, even if sent from Austreberthe’s email and adjusted with the painstaking attention to minute details she was known for.
Internal Memo
To: Quadrivium Leadership Team
Subject: Synergies and Strategic Integration with Quintessivium Cloister Crafts (previously codenamed as ‘Cardivium Nun’s Quills & Cardigans’)Team,
With the acquisition of Quintessivium Cloister Crafts finalised, we are poised to explore the deeper synergies between our coven and the nun witches’ coven operating behind their front. Here are some key areas where we can harness our collective strengths:
1. Resource Sharing:
– Their expertise in crafting high-quality quills can complement our focus on artisanal incense blends. By sharing resources and best practices, both covens can enhance their craftsmanship and innovation.2. Collaborative Spellcraft:
– The nun witches bring a unique perspective and set of rituals that can enrich our own magical practices. Joint spellcasting sessions and workshops can lead to the development of powerful new enchantments and products.3. Knowledge Exchange:
– The historical and esoteric knowledge held by the nuns is a treasure trove we can tap into. Regular exchanges of scrolls, texts, and insights can deepen our understanding of ancient magic and its applications in modern contexts.4. Market Expansion:
– By combining our product lines, we can create bundled offerings that appeal to a broader audience. Imagine a premium writing set that includes a handcrafted quill, a magical ink blend, and a specially composed incense for enhancing focus and creativity. Or outdoor outfits with puffer jackets, or specially knit cardigans with embedded magical properties.5. Strengthening Alliances:
– This acquisition sets a precedent for future alliances with other covens and magical entities. It demonstrates our commitment to growth and collaboration, reinforcing our position as a leading force in the magical community.Remember, the true value of this acquisition lies not just in the products we can create together, but in the unity and strength we gain as a collective. Let’s approach this integration with the spirit of collaboration and mutual respect.
Yours in strength and magic,
Austreberthe, on behalf of MalovéIn reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
“Believe me, I checked, double-checked, triple-checked… Love spells never last, it can’t be faked for such a long time.”
Jeezel was convinced, there was no way Malové’s escapade into love could have been foul play. Jeezel’s head was projected over in the air by the loom spell.
“I think you are still underestimating her scheming,” Eris said, feeding birds on her patio while she was interacting with the projections of her friends summoned for the occasion. “She can’t have simply abandoned all her duties without a care.”
“You have a point.” Frigella mentioned, her image animated over an old postcard background. “It’s such a break of character continuity I may say.”
Truella was flipping backgrounds behind her head, trying to find the perfect dig image to project to her friends. “Stop that!” Jeezel said gagging. “I’m going to be motion sick…”
“Back to our point…” Eris continued “I didn’t expect her succession to be appointed so fast.”
“And that Austreberthe of all persons!” Truella was starting to get on her contrarian horse. “That witch was only doing a good job at kissing donkeys, if you know what I mean. As if she’s going to be the right person for the job. Feels like we’re back into the Middle Ages of witchcraft. Not that it doesn’t have a certain appeal, trebuchets and all…” Truella was starting to get her similes in a twist and go in a usual tangent.
Frigella, always the peacemaker ventured. “Maybe we should give her a chance. And after all, better her than you, don’t you think?”
Truella stopped in her tracks, not knowing if there wasn’t some jab hiding in the last sentence. “Well, I may have had some good ideas to shake this up of course…”
Eris, staying grounded snapped “but for now, we’ll have to see what’s Austreberthe as our new boss is going to do. Last I heard she was all about getting the Quadrivium to sponsor the Worldwide Roman Games.”
Jeezel sighed. “At least she’s not going to put us to more debt… That witch’s graps on our finance is tighter than a nun’s…”
“Thanks Jeezel, we get the picture. Austreberthe was after all, Malové’s head of Finance for the most part… Hope we’re not getting too much of a cure of austerity.”
Eris said “Somehow, I still hope it’s one of Malové’s tests. Otherwise, hello Middle Ages…”
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
It was unlike Idle to reply to Truella’s email so promply.
Ah, Malové – she’d chase coins even if they were rolling off a cliff, that one. Alright, let’s strategize. You want a summer full of lazy days and fewer cauldrons bubbling with business schemes? First off, you can’t just hit her with “we need a break.” She’ll give you a lecture longer than the Nile on how “witchcraft never takes a holiday.” You need to catch her where she’s least fortified – in her relentless quest for profit.
Propose a Profitable Diversion: Convince her that giving everyone the summer off will actually increase productivity in the long run. Mention something about “rejuvenating our mystical energies to double our efficiency,” sprinkle some buzzwords in there. But make it tangible – maybe promise an autumn harvest of particularly lucrative spells.
Delegate the Drudgery: See if you can drum up a few apprentices or temporary hires to take over the basic grunt work for the summer. Tell Malové it’s a great opportunity to train new talent while you all focus on higher, strategic endeavors – which, of course, you can conveniently do from a hammock with a cocktail.
Truella thought this was a terrific idea.
Create a Catastrophic Scenario: Paint a picture of a burnout crisis in the coven. Suggest that ongoing stress might lead to mistakes, which could, I dunno, turn a lucrative potion into explosive chaos, unraveling all her precious profits. A summer hiatus could be framed as a preventive measure to avoid such disasters.
Distract with a Bigger Bone: Find a massive project that requires her singular focus – maybe even a solo venture. Get her so engrossed in this grand scheme that she barely notices you’re all slinking off away from the grind. Bonus points if it’s a decoy project you don’t actually care about.
Now there’s an idea, good old Idle’s on form, Truella sighed gratefully. She made it all sound so easy.
Leverage the Cleaning Conundrum: Remember Finnlee and the manual cleaning? Suggest that you need to undergo a “summer cleaning initiative” to physically and spiritually cleanse the headquarters, and this process “requires” the witches to be away. It’ll appeal to Malové’s practicality and her penchant for a neat, profitable operation.
Emphasize the Carnival’s Aftermath: Play up the importance of digesting the energy you’re about to collect from the Carnival. Frame it as a necessary incubation period – the energies need time to percolate and clarify before being crafted into those procreation-boosting incenses. Also, suggest it’s the perfect time to trial promising new volunteers eager for a taste of witchy life. You’re a clever lot; use whatever mix of these tactics suits your fancy, and don’t forget to sprinkle it all with just the right touch of sincerity and urgency. As long as she buys into the grand scheme, you might just find yourself lounging through summer without a care in the world, at least until Malové sniffs out the next opportunity. So, get plotting, and let’s see if you can keep Malové’s gold-scrying eyes off the coven for a blissfully quiet summer. Need help drafting the message?
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
Truella sighed. She was making good progress with the dig, the weather was favorable and not too hot yet. It was only a matter of weeks before she would have to start at first light before the sun became too intense, and reverse her current habit of a slow morning and a busy afternoon. Perhaps she should wait before filling in Frella’s diary entry. Was she going to write it herself this time? If only Truella knew for sure. At least Jeezel was feeling a bit better, which was a relief to them all, and it seemed that Eris was lightening up a bit now too. Thank Flove for that! Better not let Malove know too soon though, or she’d have them all off on another of those tedious conferences. Wouldn’t it be nice if Malove let them all have a long summer recess, Truella thought, without much hope. She sighed again, wondering if Frella had progressed any further with the mystery of the camphor chest.
Truella had heard of camphor, of course, but associated it with moth balls, not chests. Camphor chests were a Chinese thing, and none of her studies or interests had ever taken her that far east. It struck her that a camphor chest would be a good place to store the fragments of Hannibal’s tunic safely, until such time as they required another antidote to an ancient Punic spell. And it could happen. Truella wondered if she could order a small one off Oboy. One could order anything one could imagine these days, from anywhere in the world, but a guaranteed delivery to Truella’s village was another matter.
The pale blue sandals had arrived yesterday though, much to her delighted surprise. It had helped when she recognised the postman as a Roman basket seller in a previous life. At that moment, Truella’s postal delivery experiences changed. It was as if the unwinnable battle with giant delivery companies morphed into a cooperation of village tradesmen. Glancing admiringly at her pristine new sandals, Truella smiled with satisfaction. Things could change for the better. Indeed, they could.
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
There was an odd sight today.
Eris sat in the deserted courtyard area of the brand new Quadrivium office, Malové’s latest folly. She could savor the quiet that Fridays often brought, most of her colleagues from the coven preferring to work from home, leaving the usually bustling space tranquil and almost meditative. She took a bite of her sandwich, listening distractedly to the complaints of another witch sitting nearby, while her own mind still preoccupied with the myriad responsibilities and recent events that seemed to pile around like a stack of clothes due a trip to the laundry.
As she chewed thoughtfully, her eyes were drawn to an odd sight. A blackbird was performing a strange dance in front of the mirrored walls that lined one side of the patio. It hopped back and forth, its beak tapping on the surface, its feathers shimmering in the afternoon light, as if it were courting its own reflection or perhaps trying to feed it with a worm it had in its beak. Eris paused, intrigued by this peculiar behavior. What could it mean?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a series of sharp, melodic chirps. She looked around and spotted another bird perched nearby in the foliage of hanged planters lining the walls —a female blackbird, easily identifiable by her distinct brown coat. The female watched the male’s antics with a mix of curiosity and detachment, her chirps seeming to carry a message of their own.
Eris felt a shiver run down her spine, a familiar sensation that often preceded a moment of magical insight. The blackbird’s dance wasn’t just an oddity; it was a sign, a message from the universe, or perhaps from the magical currents that flowed unseen through the world.
She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, trying to connect with the energy around her. The image of the male blackbird, tirelessly courting its own reflection, seemed to mirror her own recent struggles. Had she been chasing an illusion, trying to nourish something that could not be sustained?
The female blackbird’s presence added another layer to the message. She was grounded, present, and observant—a contrast to the male’s futile efforts. Eris thought of her recent decisions, the dismissal of the cook, the strained relationships within the coven, and the cryptic postcards from Truella. Was the universe urging her to find balance, to ground herself and observe more keenly before taking action?
She could almost hear Elias whispers in her ears: Birds, in general, often represent thoughts or ideas flying about in our consciousness. The blackbird specifically, with its stark contrast and distinct presence, can represent deeper insights, truths, or messages that are coming to your awareness. The mirror, as a reflective surface, implies that these insights pertain directly to your perception of self or facets of your identity that may be emerging or needing attention. Putting this together, the imagery of the birds and their interactions could be nudging you to pay closer attention to your inner reflections. Are you nurturing the parts of yourself that truly need attention? Are there aspects of your identity or self-perception that require acknowledgment and care? The presence of the brown-coated female blackbird might also be a reminder to appreciate the varied and multifaceted nature of your experiences and the different roles you embody.
She opened her eyes, feeling a sense of clarity washing over her. The birds continued their vivid dialogue and unfathomable dances, unaware of the impact they had just made, although her insistent gaze had seemed to snap the blackbird out of its mesmerized pattern. He was now scurrying away looking over its shoulder, as if caught in an awkward moment.
Rising from her seat, Eris felt something. Not some sort of newfound sense of purpose, but a weight of a precious present, luminous and fragile, yet spacious and full with undecipherable meaning. She glanced one last time at the blackbirds, silently thanking them for their unspoken wisdom. As she walked back into the office, she knew that the path ahead would still be fraught with challenges, but she was ready to face them—grounded, observant, and attuned to the subtle messages that the world had to offer.
In the quiet of the Quadrivium office, on a deserted Friday afternoon, a blackbird’s dance had set the stage for the next chapter of her journey.
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
I honestly don’t know what made me do it, it took me by surpise when I did it. It was bugging me that I couldn’t remember, and before I knew what was happening, I’d asked Malove.
Ah, the Caryatid Characteristics of a Case, a subject that requires both discernment and a keen eye for detail. In essence, the phrase “Caryatid Characteristics” refers to the fundamental attributes and peculiarities that support the overall structure of a particular case or situation, much like how caryatids—those graceful, sculpted figures in classical architecture—bear the weight of a building’s entablature on their shoulders.
To break it down into pragmatic terms, identifying the Caryatid Characteristics involves an in-depth analysis of the following elements:
Structural Integrity: Just as caryatids ensure the stability of a structure, the core components of the case must be sound and unwavering. This includes the key facts, the primary evidence, and the foundational arguments that hold the case together.
Aesthetic Nuances: Caryatids are not merely functional; they are also artistic. Similarly, the subtleties and nuances of a case—such as the motives, the intentions, and the underlying themes—add layers of complexity and depth, transforming a simple matter into a multifaceted situation.
Historical Context: Caryatids often reflect the cultural and historical context of their time. Understanding the background, the precedents, and the situational history provides a richer perspective and informs the current dynamics at play.
Symbolic Significance: In architecture, caryatids symbolize strength and beauty. In a case, the symbolic elements—the metaphors, the symbols, and the overarching message—must be identified and interpreted to grasp the full scope of its significance.
Resonance and Impact: Lastly, caryatids have a visual and emotional impact on observers. Similarly, the case’s broader implications, its potential consequences, and the emotional resonance it evokes must be considered. This is where the true weight of the matter lies, affecting not only the immediate parties involved but potentially a wider audience.Applying these characteristics to a case requires a blend of logical analysis, creative thinking, and intuitive insight. It is not merely about assembling facts but about understanding how each element supports the whole, much like the elegant yet sturdy caryatids in timeless architecture.
Now, if you’re asking how this applies to our current predicament with our spring cleaning of collective energies, well, one could say the caryatids in our situation are the core rituals, the seasoned wisdom passed down through the coven, and the precise incantations in our incense blends. Each component must be scrutinized and perfected to ensure we uphold the structural and spiritual integrity of our craft.
Let’s not dawdle; the orchestra in this zoo waits for no one.
Who will rise to the occasion?
Who indeed? I asked her if we all sent each other postcards, would it help?
Postcards, my dear, are more than mere scraps of paper with hastily scribbled words and picturesque scenes. They are tangible connections in an increasingly ephemeral world. Sending each other postcards won’t just help; it will create ripples of intention and resonance that can weave us closer together, despite the physical distances.
Consider the following:
Anchoring Intentions: Each postcard carries the sender’s energy and intention. When you pen your thoughts, wishes, or even riddles, you imbue the postcard with a part of yourself. The recipient, upon receiving it, senses this connection. It’s a form of sympathetic magic, drawing us closer through shared symbols and messages.
Physical Mementos: In an age where digital communication reigns supreme, holding a physical object—something that has traveled miles to reach your hands—grounds you. It anchors you in the physical world and provides a break from the transient nature of digital interactions. These postcards become talismans, reminders of our connections and shared journeys.
Ritualistic Value: The act of writing, sending, and receiving postcards can be ritualistic. This ritual can strengthen the bonds within our coven, reaffirming our commitment to each other and our shared goals. Each postcard becomes a symbol of our collective energy, our shared purpose, and our mutual support.
Cultural Exchange: Postcards often carry images or symbols from different locales. Sharing them can broaden our horizons, offer new perspectives, and remind us of the diverse tapestry that makes up our coven. It’s a gentle nudge to appreciate the wider world and the myriad experiences within it.
Mystical Conduits: In our magical practice, objects can serve as conduits for energy. Postcards, having traversed the globe, carry the imprints of various energies and places. They become more than just messages—they are carriers of the world’s pulse, connecting us to the broader rhythms of existence.So, yes, sending each other postcards will help. It will infuse our lives with a tangible sense of connection, a reminder of our shared purpose, and a touch of magic in the mundane. Let’s make this act a part of our practice, a testament to our enduring bonds and our collective strength.
Who will be the first to send a missive across the miles?
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
Wondering why she couldn’t focus, Jeezel frowned and checked the ingredients for the Concordia potion again. For a moment she thought she had already done it, but here it was again. And it had to be perfect.
Moon water imbued with lunar magic to set the stage of harmony. Rose petals for love and beauty. Lavender for its calming properties, essential to soothe and balance the collective energies. Honey for cooperation and its irresistible sweetness. Willow wand… Where was her willow wand? She would have to do it all over again if she didn’t find her willow wand.
A wet tongue on her hand was trying to catch her attention. The ingredients started to loose focus again.
“Stop Luminia. It has to be perfect,” said Jeezel, gently pushing the muzzle of her nine tailed fox away. “Help me find my willow wand instead, that would be helpful!”
“You’ve already done it a million times,” said Luminia with a sigh, “and each time you stop at the willow wand. You’re caught in a feverish loop. I need to pee.”
The ingredients and the smoking cauldron disappeared. Jeezel frowned as the techno beats of a pounding headache reminded her she was still alive.
“Just let me die and go out on your own, please…” Jeezel moaned.
“You know I don’t like to shape shift into a cat. Wandering lone dogs are too suspicious. And you need some fresh air. You’ve been simmering in your own juice the last couple of days.”
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
“Don’t be so quick to Judge, Frel,” I tried to point out to her that she was being put off by the womans garrulous ways and sheer bulk. “She may have a heart of gold underneath, notwithstanding her taste in doormats.”
“I came here to relax, though. Maybe I should go to Madeira after all, if she’s going to keep barging in here,” Frella sighed.
I reminded her that Herma had asked for her help, and that she knew perfectly well that it was a dishonour to refuse a request for help. Frella reminded me that it was also acceptable to refuse a request based on the Caryatid Characteristics of the Case. This was no doubt true, but I was struggling to recall what I’d learned about such cases. Something about shouldering a shared burden.
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
“Not another one!” exclaimed Truella. “Another time and money wasting conference in another bloody castle!”
Eris sighed. “It’s a party, a birthday party, not a conference. You know, one of those fun things that people do for entertainment.”
“If Malove planned it there is bound to be a catch. It’s another money making pushy sales thing, I bet.”
“Actually,” Frella ventured timidly, “You’re right, it’s not just a birthday party.”
“How would you know?” Jez was blunt.
Frella stammered nervously, “Well I, er, I overheard a snatch of conversation, you see…”
Jeezel gave her a piercing look and said “And? What did you overhear?”
“Something about the pink spider. We have to find it for some reason, before the others do. Well of course Malove was going to tell us,” Frella rolled her eyes at Truella, “But not until we got there, at the last minute. And no, I don’t know why. And I don’t know what the pink spider is, either. But maybe we can find out before we get there.”
“What’s the castle and where is it?” asked Truella.
“It’s the Flossy Liar Chateau,” replied Eris, “In France somewhere. Maybe you can find out some of the history, Tru. Frella, do some research on the botanical garden. And Jez, the costumes…”
“Getting a bit bossy, aint she,” Jez said to nobody in particular, and to Eris she asked sweetly, “And you, dear? What will you be researching?”
“Why, the legends of witchcraft, obviously. There are bound to be some legends and witchcraft.”
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
“Business!” Truella spat the word out. “Always business, always about money.”
“It’s the way of the world, Tru,” Eris said in a futile attempt to mollify Truella. “Try and fit in a bit.”
“Fit in? Fit in? Fit in to what? Squeeze into one of Jeezel’s cocktail dresses? A lung crushing basque? Lie down flat like a dollar bill and get squashed into a pile of dirty paper notes like the rest of them? I don’t want to fit in.”
“But it’s the only way, you know it is,” Eris entreated. “Please try and see some sense.”
“Sense? Sense? What sense? Common sense? A sense of adventure? A sense of wonder? A sense of the sensational? A sense of sensitivity? A sense of senselessness?”
Eris sighed deeply. “You’re not making sense. And what’s more, you haven’t made any scents for ages either. How do you expect to manage on your own without the coven?”
“Eris,” Truella said with an equally profound sigh,”You misunderstand me. I don’t wish to leave the coven, I wish to change it. It’s gone wrong, horribly wrong. We’re supposed to change the world for the better, not kowtow to this dreadful modern scourge. We need to return to our roots, our true calling. What has happened to us all? Meek grovelling subservient money grubbing towers of the line, that’s what! It’s a disgrace!”
“How are you going to pay your electricity bill then, without any of that ghastly currency?”
“I am a WITCH! I should be able to magic up the light! We all should! Not pissing around making smelly unguents to pander to the faux enlightened! Enlightened! hah! What a word for the huddled masses who can’t even summon up enough magic to illuminate a light bulb. Why aren’t we working on free electricity? huh? Answer me that!”
“Ok then, I’ll report back to Malove that you’re working on a free electricty spell, shall I?” Eris was becoming exasperated.
“You do that!” Truella stormed angrily, annoyed at having her superior motives ridiculed. “But I suggest you have a long hard think about what I’ve said. And you can tell the others that. And not only that,” she added, “Tell them to start work on a magic money spell. It’s utterly beyond me how a coven of witches, constantly strapped for cash, hasn’t considered the all too obvious solution of simply magicking up a pile of banknotes. Or even easier, digits on a screen. Digits on a screen, that’s all it is!”
Eris was forced to admit that this was a very good point.
“Think, Eris,” Truella gave her friends arm a gentle squeeze, relieved that she was starting to see some sense. “If we perfect the money magic spell, and share it widely ~ for free, of course, no need to charge anyone for it after all! ~ the hoarders can bury themselves under mountains of money without depriving anyone else of any essentials. It’s a game changer, Eris. It would be Change, with a capital C. Real Change.”
Eris looked doubtful. “But…”
“And ask yourself why you hesitate.” And with that Truella flounced off, back to her dig, leaving a perplexed Eris in a fog of confusion.
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
Getting this out in the room did bring a tide of emotions; pent-up frustration, indignation, bits of bruised egoes, the whole spectrum. Truella’s tirade had managed to uncork a complete bundle of electricity in the atmosphere, but the genie had left the building.
Eris had suddenly felt like scrambling away, but had stayed along with spaced out Frigella and Jeezel as she’d felt a pang of responsibility.
Surprisingly, Malové had remained composed throughout the heated ensuing exchanges, trying to be constructive at every turn, and managing to conclude most of the debates —even when was not fully settled, and by far, a round of collected feedback afterwards, she’d clapped appreciatively saying. “Congratulations team, seeing how we are no longer covertly disagreeing behind everyone else’s back, I can see improvement in our functioning as a cohesive Coven. Believe it or not, being in a place to openly voice disagreement is a sign of progress, we’ve moved past the trust issues, into constructive conflict. There is still much to be done to commit, be accountable and focus on results together, but I feel we are on track to a brighter future, you’ve all done well.”
Back in her cottage in Finland, Eris was wondering “then why do I feel so bloody exhausted…”
She played back in her head some of the comments that Malové had shared in private after, when Eris had enquired if there would be some consequences for her witch’s friend actions. Once more, Malové has shown a unusual restraint that had put her worries at ease for now.
“Truella’s actions during the Adare Manor workshop presentation displayed boldness and conviction, two qualities that are essential for any individual, executive or otherwise, who wishes to effect change within an organization or a venture. Standing up for oneself is not only about self-assurance; it’s about ensuring that your voice and perspective are heard and considered.
However, the manner in which one stands up for oneself is crucial. Berating others, especially in a public forum such as a workshop presentation, can be counterproductive. It can create resistance and diminish the opportunity for constructive dialogue. While I understand her frustration, it is important to channel such energies towards a more strategic approach that fosters collaboration and leads to solutions.
As a leader, I advocate for clear communication and assertiveness, tempered with respect for all members of the coven. The success of our ventures, vaping or otherwise, depends on our ability to work cohesively towards our common goals. Truella’s passion is commendable, but it must be directed appropriately to benefit the coven and our business endeavors.”
She had asked Eris to convey the same to Truella. She’d made no promises —her friend was known to be more difficult to herd than cats. But with time, there would be a chance she would see reason.
Meanwhile, their sales targets had not gone away, and they had to keep the Quadrivium afloat. With Truella checking out of the game, and clearly not overly engaged on results, it fell onto the rest of the team to deliver.
A second session of workshop and celebration was planned in a month’s time in Spain with all top witches. With Eris’ last experience in Spain and her elephant head, she was starting to dread another mishap. Plus, she sighed when she looked at the invite. She would have to fetch a cocktail attire. A vacation was long overdue…
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
“Of course I know,” said Eris, looking worn out by the excess of social interaction, or maybe that was her latest goth make-up. “Have I been the only one paying attention?”
“Shtt, don’t speak too loud, my head is pounding…” Jeezel moaned softly. “And what is happening with us?”
“You haven’t got it, have you? Should I spell it out loud?” Eris glanced sideways, wary of Malové being within earshot. “It was all a test… but I don’t see us getting in the good graces of the Coven with was has transpired so far.”
Truella tugged at Frigella’s sleeve, as she went to refill her plate and had noticed the impromptu discussion which was suspiciously conspirational. Frigella groaned “don’t wake up Yikes, look how cutie pooh he is.”
Truella motioned for them to join Eris and Jeezel, who grimaced at the sight of Truella’s questionable cheese selection. “What’s going on? We want in.”
Eris sighed. “Fine, but not here. Let’s get some fresh air.” As discreetly as a herd of elephant in a dry savanah, they made their way to the terrace, escaping the breakfast room which was getting crowded, to bask in the morning sunlight.
As they settled in, Eris began to explain. “I think it’s a side-effect of my memory spell, that unexpectedly, I still remember most of it.”
“Spill it already, they’re about to close the buffet, and the morning sessions are starting soon, and we can’t be late,” Truella urged, fidgeting impatiently.
“You see, that’s exactly it, Tru’. None of us have been ourselves. And do you really think that baby is a coincidence?” She nodded towards Frigella, who was cooing over the sleeping infant.
“First off, have you noticed, this workshop is meant for the top brass. Only the high-rank witches of the Coven have been invited, and you don’t even think twice about why we’re here. Malové has been setting us to a test amongst her next in line. We’ve been in competition since the start with the other witches, and you didn’t even notice! They were apparently more prepared than us lot. They managed to honeypot Frigella with a baby which I’m pretty sure is nothing more than a transformed rodent. As for Truella, the spell on her must have started on the Octobus; not sure you’ve noticed, but when we stopped on our way to collect the other ones, that’s when she started to get sick and get all sorts of strange cravings.”
“But… what’s the point?” Jeezel asked, still bewildered. “Is that why I can’t get my hair right, and my eye makeup is a disaster, and… and…” She choked back tears.
“These witches are fiercely competitive. And probably less skilled that us, which is why they will not play fair; we’ve got to step up ladies. Otherwise, we’ll be on tuspellware duties for years until some opportunity like that happens again.” Eris was getting fired up, an unusual sight for someone generally mildly interested in office politics.
“Truella!” Eris called out as Truella was starting to gorge on the cornichons she’d piled up next to the fromages assemblage. “You’re presenting in the morning session! Malové is counting on you to update us on the vaping venture… new sales channels, market studies, double-digit growth, you know the drill.”
Truella seemed to snap out of her daze. “Don’t tell me,” Eris sighed, “you forgot… Luckily, I have a memory for all of us, and I brewed some ginkgo potion this morning.” She produced an orange flask with black tea stains around the edges, and poured it into glasses she conjured.
“Now bottoms up, ladies. We’ve got a presentation to nail and some witches to put in their place.”
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
Satis ineptias, a mildly jaded Eris blurted out, not meaning to put a spell on the others, but her elephant head was still playing tricks on her. Trève de sornettes had a nicest French ring to it, but the others would be nonethewiser.
“Are we broompooling to Adare Manor, or someone has a spare vortexmaker?”
In any case, the unexpected nononsense spell made everyone very sober… for about thirty seconds until Jeezel showed up.
“Are those the latest slowmedown boots?” Truella couldn’t believe her eyes. “Those are collector, near impossible to get!” She gawked at the pinnacle of enchanting couture, the pièce de résistance for any discerning witch with a penchant for the peculiar.
Frigella was nonplussed. “These look like worn-out snails, how can that be practical?”
Truella shrugged. “You’re missing the point love, these boots are not merely footwear.”
Jeeze couldn’t have her thunder stolen. “Let me stop you there, darling. They are a statement, a proclamation of indomitable spirit and singular sense of style. Look closely, my dears, and you’ll see the boots are a masterful work of art, crafted with the amber glow of a sunset captured in creamy, dreamy resin. Each boot is adorned with a magnificent snail shell, spiraling with the mystique of ancient runes, and imbued with the essence of languid luxury.”
Frigella rolled her eyes. “But what’s the true enchantment?”
Jeezel continued, her passion catching on fire “How can you ask? These boots are not for the fleet of foot—nay, they are for the leisurely saunterer, the siren of slow. Each step is a deliberate dance with time itself, each movement a languorous glide that defies the rush of the mundane world. And the coup de grâce, my fashionable familiars, is the snail’s trail heel, a literal gastropod’s glide that leaves behind a sparkling path of magic. It is a trail that whispers, “I shall not be hurried; I embrace the moment with every sinuous step.”
Only a true collector of fashion could appreciate the paradoxical wonder of these SlowMeDown Boots. They are not just boots; they are an experience, a journey through time on the half-shell. A treasure trove for the feet, defiantly decadent and fabulously unhurried.”Eris, who had waited patiently for an answer to her question sighed and said. “better starting to get packed now; with that chitter-chatter about getting in slowmo, I bet we’re better get a cab to the workshop. So much for magical prowess…”
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
Sleeping like a log through a full night’s rest on the lavender spell wrapped in the rag of the punic tunic worked like a charm. By morning light, Eris had reverted to her normal self again.
How her coven had succeeded in finding the rag was anyone’s guess, but one thing was for certain—Truella’s resourcefulness knew no bounds once she set her mind to a goal. All it took was a location spell, a silencing charm around the area in Libyssa where she wanted to dig, and of course, a trusty trowel. Hundreds of buckets of dirt later, a few sheep’s jawbones and voilà, the rag. Made of asbestos, impervious to fire, and slower to decay than a sloth on a Monday morning, it was nothing short of a miracle it had survived so long underground, and that they found it in such a short time.
Eris rubbed her neck still pained from the weight of bearing that enormous elephantine head.
When pressed by the others—Frigella, Jeezel, and the ever-curious Truella—she could hardly recall what led her to attempt the risky memory spell.
Echo buzzed in with an electric hum, the sprite all too eager to clear the air.
“The memory spell,” Echo interjected, “a dubious cocktail of spirits of remembrance and forgetfulness, was cast not out of folly but necessity. Eris, rooted in her family’s arborestry quests, understood the weight of knowledge passed down through generations. Each leaf and branch in the family tree held stories, secrets, and sacrifices that were both a treasure and a burden.”
Echo smirked as he continued, pointing out the responsibility of the other entity’s guidance. “Elias’s advice had egged her on, resonating with Eris’ desires, and finally enticing her not lament the multitude of options but rather delights in the exploration without the burden of obligation —end of quotation.”
“And was it worth it?” Truella asked impatiently, her curiosity piqued a little nonetheless. She’d always wished she had more memory, but not at the cost of an elephant head.
“Imagine the vast expanse of memories like a grand library, each book brimming with the essence of a lineage. ” Eris said. “To wander these halls without purpose could lead to an overwhelming deluge of ancestral whispers.” She paused. “So, not sure it was entirely worth it. I feel more confused than ever.”
Echo chimed in again “The memory spell was conjured to be a compass, a guide through the storied corridors of her heritage. But, as with all magic, the intentions must be precise, the heart true, and the mind clear. A miscalculation, a stray thought, a moment’s doubt — and the spell turned upon itself, leaving Eris with the visage of an elephant, noble and wise. The elephant head, while unintended, may have been a subconscious manifestation of her quest for familial knowledge. Perhaps the memory spell, in its misfiring, sought to grant Eris the attributes necessary to continue her arborestry quests with the fortitude and insight of the elephant.”
“But why Madrid of all places?” Jeezel asked mostly out of reflex than complete interest; she had been pulled into the rescue and had missed the quarter finals of the Witch Drag Race she was now catching up on x2 speed replay on her phone.
Echo surmised “Madrid, that sun-drenched city of art and history, may have been a waypoint in her journey — a place where the paths of the past intersect with the pulse of the present. It is in such crossroads that one may find hidden keys to unlock the tales etched in one’s bloodline.”
“In other words, you have no idea?” Frigella asked Eris directly, cutting through the little flickering sprite’s mystical chatter.
“I guess it’s something as Wisp said. I must have connected to some bloodlines. But one thing is sure, all was fine when I was in Finland, Thorsten was as much a steadying presence as one would need. But then I got pulled into the vortex, and all bets were off.”
“At least he had the presence of mind to call me.” Truella said smuggly.
“The red cars may have started to get my elephant head mad… I can’t recall all of it, but I’m glad you found me in time.” Eris admitted.
“Don’t mention it poppet, we all screwed up one spell or two in our time.” Frigella said, offering unusual comfort.
“Let’s hope at least you’ll come up with brilliant ideas from that ordeal next week.” said Jeezel.
“What do you mean?” Truella looked at her suspiciously
“The strategic meeting that Malové has called for? In the Adare Manor resort?” Frigella reminded her, rolling her eyes softly.
“Jeez, Jeezel…” was all Truella could come up with. “another one of these boring meetings to boost our sales channels and come up with new incense models?” Truella groaned, already wishing it were over.
“That’s right love. Better be on your A-game for this.” Jeezel said, straightening her wig with a sly grin.
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
It wasn’t until late the following afternoon that Truella, with a pang of guilt, remembered Roger. Frella grinned sheepishly and said that she had forgotten him too.
“But you know what? Wait, let me show you the tile I bought in Brazil.” Frella trotted off to find her suitcase.
“Look what it says on the bit of paper that came with it:
Function: The Freevole tile embodies the essence of empowerment and autonomy. It serves as a reminder and a guide for those standing at life’s many crossroads, facing decisions that may seem overwhelming. This tile encourages the holder to recognize their inner strength and the ability to choose their path confidently, even when faced with seemingly insurmountable challenges.
At the center of the tile, there is a small vole standing at a crossroads where waters intersect, with dry earth visible behind it. The scene depicts sheets of water overlapping on both sides of the vole, creating a sense of inundation, yet there is an opening ahead, suggesting a path or choice to be made.We need to backtrack a bit with Roger. Look what it says here:
What that vole hadn’t realized was that he had to backtrack a bit. There was no way ahead or to the sides, but the way out was behind him.
See what I mean?”
Truella squinted at Frella. “What?”
Sighing, Frigella thrust the bit of paper at her friend. “Read the rest of it!”
The Vole: The vole symbolizes the individual facing a decision point or crossroads in life. Its presence suggests vulnerability, but also resilience and adaptability.
Crossing of Waters: The intersection of waters represents the convergence of different paths or possibilities. It symbolizes the complexities and challenges of decision-making, where multiple options overlap and intertwine.
Dry Earth Behind: The dry earth behind the vole symbolizes stability, past experiences, or familiar ground. It represents the foundation upon which decisions are based and serves as a reminder of where one has come from.
Overlap of Drowned Sheets of Water: The drowned sheets of water on both sides signify the potential consequences or risks associated with each choice. They represent the unknown and the possibility of being overwhelmed by circumstances.
Opening Ahead: The opening ahead signifies opportunity, hope, and the possibility of forging a new path. It represents the future and the freedom to make choices that lead to growth and fulfilment.Families: This tile is aligned with the Vold family, known for their connection to transformation, challenge, and the breaking of old systems to make way for the new. The Vold energy within the Freevole tile emphasizes the importance of facing challenges head-on and using them as opportunities for growth and empowerment.
Significance: The scene depicted on the Freevole tile, with the vole at a crossroads between inundation and dry earth, symbolizes the moments in life where we must make significant choices amidst emotional or situational floods. The waters represent challenges and emotions that may threaten to overwhelm, while the dry earth symbolizes the solid ground of our inner strength and determination. The path ahead, though uncertain, indicates that there is always a way forward, guided by our autonomy and personal power.
As an advice: When encountering the Freevole tile, take it as a sign to pause and reflect on your current crossroads. It urges you to tap into your inner resilience and recognize that you have the power to navigate your life’s journey. The choices before you, while daunting, are opportunities to assert your independence and steer your life according to your true desires and values. Trust in your ability to make decisions that will lead you to your chosen path of fulfillment and growth. Remember, the floods of challenge bring with them the nourishment needed for new beginnings; it is within your power to find the opening and move forward with courage and confidence.
The motif of the Freevole, standing determined and attentive amidst the forces of nature, serves as a potent symbol of the power within each individual to face life’s uncertainties and emerge stronger for having made their own choices.“Ok so in a nutshell,” Truella replied slowly, “Roger’s crossroads took him to Brazil and ours took us here, and that’s all that needs to be said about it. Right?”
“Exactly!”
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
Finland had just boasted its position as the happiest country on Earth in the afternoon news, and that had left Eris and Thorsten wondering about all that was freely available to them and often overlooked. Closeness to nature and a well-balanced work-life ratio, such among those things.
Not one to reel in contentment, Eris was finding herself entangled in the whimsical dance of procrastination, much to the chagrin of her bossy headwitch mentor, Malové. Her boyfriend, Thorsten, her unwavering support, watched with a fond smile as Eris meandered through her myriad interests.
As part of his latest trials of biohacking experiments, he’d chosen to undergo the Ramadan fast, and often found himself delirious from hunger by day’s end.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the landscape, Eris lounged in their cozy cabin, her mind swirling with thoughts of exploration. Thorsten interrupted her reverie with his latest discovery.
“Look ‘ris,” he called her over his last discovery “they say: Wear blue light blocking glasses at night: And made your sleep a means for rest | Quran 78:9. Blue light blocking glasses help mitigate the damage that post-Maghrib light exposure causes. This is a critical circadian rhythm hack.” — Should I buy some?”
“Sure, Love.” Paying soft attention, Eris found herself lost in a whirlwind of distractions—a stray cat seeking shelter from the sudden March rains, a mysterious potion recipe hidden in the depths of her bookshelf, and the ever-present allure of social media, beckoning her with its siren song of endless scrolls and likes.
As dusk fell, a sliver of moonlight signaled the end of the day’s fast for Thorsten. It was the moment that their adventurous friend Jorid chose to knock at the door of their cottage, with a gleam of wanderlust in his eyes. He yearned to explore the far reaches of the Northern Lights, his restless spirit only equal to his insatiable curiosity, and probably second only to his ravenous hunger, eagerly awaiting one of those magicked dinners that Eris had the secret to manifest at a moment’s notice.
“Sushi sandwiches everyone?” she asked distractedly.
“With a serving of spicy kelp, yes please!” Jorid answered.
As Eris came back with the food, still inwardly grappling with the enigma of procrastination, a familiar voice echoed in her mind —Elias, her digital friend, offering sage advice from the depths of her consciousness.
“Ah, my dear Eris,” Elias chimed in, his words a harmonious blend of wisdom and whimsy. “Let us embark on a playful exploration of this delightful conundrum you find yourself within. Procrastination, you see, is not an adversary to be conquered, but rather a messenger, guiding you toward a particular direction of energy.”
Elias’s guidance resonated deeply with Eris, offering a beacon of clarity amidst the fog of indecision. “You are experiencing a diversity of interests, much like a child in a room filled with toys,” he continued. “Each one more enticing than the last. And yet, the child does not lament the multitude of options but rather delights in the exploration of each one in turn. This is the key, Eris, exploration without the burden of obligation.”
Eris nodded in agreement, her gaze flickering to Thorsten, whose quiet support and solid appetite punctuated with Jorid’s laughter served as a steady anchor amidst the storm of her thoughts.
Elias was continuing to deliver this message in an instant communication she would need time to explore and absorb. “Firstly, prioritize your interests. Recognize that not all desires must be pursued simultaneously. Allow yourself to be drawn naturally to whichever interest is speaking most loudly to you in the moment. Immerse yourself in that experience fully, without the shadow of guilt for not attending to the others.”
“Secondly, address the belief that you must ‘get it all done.’ This is a fallacy, a trick of cultural time that seeks to impose upon you an artificial urgency. Instead, align with natural time, allowing each interest to unfold in its own rhythm and space.”
“Thirdly, consider the concept of ‘productive procrastination.’ When you delay one action, you are often engaging in another, perhaps without recognizing its value. Allow yourself to appreciate the activities you are drawn to during these periods of procrastination. They may hold insights into your preferences or be offering you necessary respite.”
“Lastly, engage in what I have referred to as a ‘blueprint action.’ Identify one action that aligns with your passion and commitment, and allow yourself to execute this action regularly. In doing so, you create a foundation, an anchor, from which the diversity of your interests can flow more freely, without the sense of being adrift in a sea of potential.”
“And remember, Eris,” Elias added, his voice gentle yet firm, “you are not here to complete a list but to revel in the joy of discovery and creation. Embrace your multitude of interests as a reflection of the richness of your essence, and allow yourself to dance with them in the timing that feels most harmonious.”
As the Northern Lights cast their ethereal glow upon the Finnish landscape, illuminating the forest around them, Eris felt a sense of peace wash over her—a reminder that the journey, with all its twists and turns, had true magic revealed at every turn and glances in the midst of a friendly evening shared meal.
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
It may surprise you, dear reader, to hear the story of Truella and Frella’s childhood at a Derbyshire mill in the early 1800s. But! I hear you say, how can this be? Read on, dear reader, read on, and all will be revealed.
Tilly, daughter of Everard Mucklewaite, miller of Brightwater Mill, was the youngest of 17 children. Her older siblings had already married and left home when she was growing up, and her parents were elderly. She was somewhat spoiled and allowed a free rein, which was unusual for the times, as her parents had long since satisfied the requirements for healthy sons to take over the mill, and well married daughters. She was a lively inquisitive child with a great love of the outdoors and spent her childhood days wandering around the woods and the fields and playing on the banks of the river. She had a great many imaginary friends and could hear the trees whisper to her, in particular the old weeping willow by the mill pond which she would sit under for hours, deep in conversation with the tree.
Tilly didn’t have any friends of her own age, but as she had never known human child friends, she didn’t feel the loss of it. Her older sisters used to talk among themselves though, saying she needed to play with other children or she’d never grow up and get out of her peculiar ways. Between themselves (for the parents were unconcerned) they sent a letter to an aunt who’d married an Irishman and moved with him to Limerick, asked them to send over a small girl child if they had one spare. As everyone knew, there were always spare girls that parents were happy to get rid of, if at all possible, and by return post came the letter announcing the soon arrival of Flora, who was a similar age to Tilly.
It was a long strange journey for little Flora, and she arrived at her new home shy and bewildered. The kitchen maid, Lucy, did her best to make her feel comfortable. Tilly ignored her at first, and Everard and his wife Constance were as usual preoccupied with their own age related ailments and increasing senility.
One bright spring day, Lucy noticed Flora gazing wistfully towards the millpond, where Tilly was sitting on the grass underneath the willow tree.
“Go on, child, go and sit with Tilly, she don’t bite, just go and sit awhile by her,” Lucy said, giving Flora a gentle push. “Here, take this,” she added, handing her two pieces of plum cake wrapped in a blue cloth.
Flora did as she was bid, and slowly approached the shade of the old willow. As soon as she reached the dangling branches, the tree whispered a welcome to her. She smiled, and Tilly smiled too, pleased and surprised that the willow has spoken to the shy new girl.
“Can you hear willow too?” Tilly asked, looking greatly pleased. She patted the grass beside her and invited Flora to sit. Gratefully, and with a welcome sigh, Flora joined her.
Tilly and Flora became inseperable friends over the next months and years, and it was a joy for Tilly to introduce Flora to all the other trees and creatures in their surroundings. They were like two peas in a pod.
Over the years, the willow tree shared it’s secrets with them both.
One summer day, at the suggestion of the willow tree, Tilly and Flora secretly dug a hole, hidden from prying eyes by the long curtain of hanging branches. They found, among other objects which they kept carefully in an old trunk in the attic, an old book, a grimoire, although they didn’t know it was called a grimoire at the time. In fact, they were unable to read it, as girls were seldom taught to read in those days. They secreted the old tome in the trunk in the attic with the other things they’d found.
Eventually the day came when Tilly and Flora were found husbands and had to leave the mill for their new lives. The trunk with its mysterious contents remained in the dusty attic, and was not seen again until almost 200 years later, when Truella’s parents bought the old mill to renovate it into holiday apartments. Truella took the trunk for safekeeping.
When she eventually opened it to explore what it contained, it all came flooding back to her, her past life as Tilly the millers daughter, and her friend Flora ~ Flora she knew was Frigella. No wonder Frella had seemed so familiar!
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
Frigella stared at the pulsating wall, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and dread. “Sanso, is the wall… throbbing?”
Truella looked up from her glass, “Not to my knowledge. Are you feeling alright?”
Frigella blinked, the wall returned to its ordinary state. “I… I saw it shift, Sanso. Like a heartbeat.”
Truella’s eyebrows furrowing, she pondered. “Frigella, have you been experimenting with the incense again?”
She shook her head, “No, not since the last incident.”
“Could be a residue effect. You’ve been working with some potent substances. Maybe you’re getting phantom scents.” Truella-Sanso suggested, sipping from her glass again.
Frigella sighed, rubbing her temples. “Perhaps you’re right. The ‘Liz n°5’ does have a tendency to linger.”
“Try to take a break, get some fresh air,” Truella advised, “And no more sniffing incense!”
Frigella rolled her eyes, “Oh, hush you, Sanso!” But she had to admit, a stroll in the cool evening air did sound appealing.
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
In her office at the Quadrivium, tapping her fingers on her mahogany desk to the sound of Los del Río’s Macarena, Malové looked pensively at the meager bounty they’d managed to collect from the rehearsals of the Carnival, and had unexpectedly managed to salvage before they were entangled into the net of power plays of the Elders and its ensuing chaos.
The phial on her desk was the only part they could salvage. They had to use most of it to revive Truella’s duplicated body before jumping back. After they’d come back to Limerick, there didn’t seem to be any lingering side effects from the dip in the red waters on the duplicate Truella.
Malové would have rather expected to witness a surge of nymphomaniac urges from Truella or the others, but there was really no telling how that could turn out; magic spells usually had a natural balance to them. The only suspicious thing was how Frigella after her dip in the waters, seemed to have developed prescience about what plans she had for the hippo carcass back at home. Magic sometimes worked in mysterious ways.
So, just to be sure, she’d tasked Frigella to be the designated driver back home for Truella. In her state of shock, Truella could have botched her merging spell to reintegrate her two bodies into the same location.
Malové wouldn’t have admitted it, but she’d felt a sigh of relief when the SMS of Frigella appeared on her scrying bowl to tell her that the spell had been completed without any ill effect. Well, maybe Truella’s partner would have the time of their lives tonight.On her desk, the leftover liquid of the phial was a deep shade of pulsating violet, and had settled to a softly bubbling state not unlike a lava lamp. It wasn’t clearly the top shelf quality she’d expected, nor even close to the amount they’d need to mass produce some powerful elixir for the infertile, impotent or simply curiously lecherous clients. That line of sexual healing incenses would have to wait for a more suitable conjonction of stars.
For now, the only new collection that the season allowed for was mostly smell of rain-soaked earth. She hated it. Not just because of its run-of-the-mill smoke flavour, only barely suited for a background note rather than a flamboyant note de tête, still a staple for the newagers yet hardly potent enough to change the world in any meaningful manner. She hated the rain season because of the stains the water drops made on her impeccable black ensemble, and the way it made her hair frizzy and her overall look like that of a wet cat tethering on its ninth and last life.
She hoped that Truella would manage to come up with the new blend for the smoke venture in the short term. Their sales had been low this year and Eris’ mission could take longer to fructify.
For now all she could think about was the smell of smoked hippo ribs in muddy rain. Swamp Serenade in Hippo Major. Hardly the recipe for a smashing success.
In reply to: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques
With the carnival in full swing, Truella was finding it hard to focus on everything that was going on. Was this mission more chaotic than usual, or did it seem that way because she wasn’t giving it her full attention? She hadn’t thought too much about Jezeel not closing the portal. She was having enough trouble stabilizing her own bilocation spell.
Where was Frigella when she needed her? And what was going on with that Cedric guy? Truella decided to go in search of her. Frigella was always good at explaining and clarifying things that she hadn’t been paying attention to.
Outside on the pavement, Truella paused to light a cigarette. The street were a cocophany of raucus banter and gay shreiks, a riot of colour and imagination and Truella stood rapt at the sights and sounds. Such a contrast from her quiet life at home in the garden with only ghosts for company. In a way Truella was glad that Roger was still missing with the pack of monkeys, rather than leaving him alone at home.
“Aye, look at all them monkey costumes, our Mavis, they’m really good int they, look just like real monkeys,” a chubby Englishwoman in a garish pink outfit said, passing by where Truella was standing.
“That’s because they ARE real monkeys, ya daft cow,” retorted her companion. “And they’re all following that big fella.”
“Ooh, that big burly chap?” piped up the third woman in the group. “I clocked him right off, come on girls, let’s go after the big boy.”
“Ooh, Sha, what are you like, ya tart.”
As the three women cackled and trotted off after the monkeys, Truella’s peaceful interlude came to an abrupt halt. What burly man with a pack of monkeys? Surely not, surely Roger and his monkeys hadn’t entered that portal that Jez forgot to close?
