#I feel like someone splashed water on a candle wick and has been trying to light it but just cant get it to start

[phantominzie]

Burnout is hard

[elfrootaddict]

HERALD OF ANDRASTE - Chapter 4/4

DESCRIPTION: El'lana’s entire world is turned upside down when she, a proud Dalish elf, is bestowed the title “Herald of Andraste”.

SERIES: Halla & Wolf

VOLUME: 3

Lana bursts into her cabin, slamming the door shut behind her and drops to the floor. Releasing her belongings from her tense grip, she allows them to fall where they may. Her breathing is heavy as her heart thrashes wildly inside her chest. With so much adrenaline surging through her body, her hands begin to shake uncontrollably as she brings them to her face.

Lana is all too familiar with having a temper, but the pure rage she’s feeling from this outburst has never happened before. Not ever. Especially towards someone she barely knows. How is it that possible that only moments ago she was laughing and enjoying his company. But now? Now she feels like a wild, savage beast wanting to claw Solas’s face off.

How dare he say such things? How dare he have such hatred towards people he’s never even met before? People, who I love more than life itself!

And yet, how can she allow herself to get so provoked? He was only expressing his opinion. Is she to get this enraged every time somebody vexes her? Shouldn’t she be used to the notion that the Dalish are ostracised, perhaps even by her own kind?

Lana brings her knees in towards her chest as she scrapes her fingers through her hair. She closes her eyes and takes several minutes to try and calm herself down; taking in deep breaths through the nose and exhaling out the mouth, just like the Keeper always instructed her to do.

Except this time, it isn’t working.

Resting her arms on her knees, she drops her head and quietly begins to weep. Her chest pounding at a rapid rhythm until finally she takes in one deep breath and releases a much louder, desperate wail. She brings her head back, hitting the cabin door, and brings her trembling hands up towards her face to help quieten down the volume of her cries. 

And the tears keep falling. And falling. And falling.

Is she really that angry at Solas? No, not particularly. She is indeed offended towards his tackless accusations but when it comes down to it… 

Lana is terrified. Beyond belief.

“Blend-in as best as you can mir da’vhenan, and discover the nature of this meeting. Return to me and report what has happened. Nothing more and nothing less. Ar lath, ma da’len. May the gods guide your steps.” 

Lana realises that once word of the Conclave got to the Free Marches, and then to her clan, the Keeper would logically assume Lana had died with all the rest. In fact, Keeper Zatlen of clan Alassan has probably already sent word to the Keeper, and the clan has already planted a tree in Lana’s memory somewhere in the forest. Knowing the Keeper’s cautious behaviour, she would most likely move the clan to the safest location she knows because of the anticipated chaos between the mages and the templars. 

And Lana knows that once they move, there would be no possible way of finding them again on her own. She is no scout or hunter, and only just managed to get here by following the Keeper’s strict instructions. Sure, she could go back to Kirkwall’s harbour somehow and travel through the cravis in the Vinmark Mountains, but then where would she go? East? West? North?

I will never see them again. The Keeper. Lhoris. Tamara. My home. I won’t be there for Lhoris and Tamara’s bonding ceremony. I won’t be able to see them raise their little ones. I won’t even be there to help the Keeper as she ages.

Lana looks down at the papers scattered around her with the ink spilled across the floor, and quietly whimpers as she begins to clean up the mess.

Lana wipes the tears from her face and looks around the cabin. With the sun almost completely set, the cabin is nearly pitch dark, and she can hardly make out much, save for a single candle’s silhouette on the windowsill. With only a flick of the wrist, Lana murmurs a spell and lights the wick. The small flame fills the room with a warm, soft glow which is when she notices a large bowl laying on the table. 

Taking in a long, deep breath, and feeling somewhat calmer after that much needed cry, she forces herself up as she wipes her dripping nose with her sleeve, and slumps towards the bowl.

Lana murmurs a basic enchantment and fills the bowl with cold, fresh water. She then cups her hands in the liquid and splashes the water against her blotchy and tired face.

Lana leans against the table, hands placed on either side of the bowl and stares at her distorted reflection in the water’s rippling surface. As the water slowly begins to settle, Lana leans in closer and notices a large, dark line across her mouth. And with a quick gesture, she stills the water to get a better look. 

“Creators…”

Still struggling to see under the current light, Lana glares at the meek, little candle light and significantly enhances its flame size. 

Now satisfied by the more sufficient lighting, Lana uses one hand to hold her hair back as she leans in even closer to the water’s surface. And that’s when she gasps.

Using her free hand, Lana slowly glides her fingers across the massively brazen laceration starting from the left corner of her top lip and all the way down to her chin.

By the dread wolf, how long have I had this?

Lana turns her face from side to side and notices another laceration across her right cheek. This one is not as large, but it's deeper and also new. She’s grateful that at least her vallaslin is still intact. 

Suddenly, a knock at her cabin door startles her. Lana whips her head around, stabilises the candle’s flame, and pretends she isn’t there. She is in no mood for any company.

“Lana?”

Nope.

“It’s me... your friendly neighbourhood dwarf.”

Funny. But, still no.

And for a short while, neither one says anything until…

“I have food...”

Lana’s stomach instantly grumbles. Releasing a soft sigh, Lana realises that she needs a warm meal more than pretending to not exist at the moment.

Desperate to appear nonchalant, Lana quickly brushes her fingers through her hair and straightens out her clothes as she walks towards the door. Taking in a deep breath, Lana opens the door by only a few inches, and peers through the small gap, as she is still in shock and deeply insecure about the scar across her lip.

Standing in the cold on the cabin’s porch is Varric, with two steaming bowls of Fereldan’s typical, hearty stew; chunky vegetables in a broth, and if the hunters had been lucky, there would be a few pieces of animal meat, too.

Varric stretches his arm out with one and Lana takes it gratefully, “Thank you, Varric. That’s really nice of you. I could have helped myself, you know? You didn’t have to come all the way here.” 

Varric huffs with a playfully dismissive hand wave, “It was no trouble. And I figured with everything going on, you most likely haven’t eaten anything today, have you?”

Lana releases a gentle smile and sways her head from side to side.

“Thought so. Well, now that I’ve fulfilled my neighbourly duty for the day. I’ll see you ‘round, El.”

Lana smiles sheeply at Varric for calling her El, as it reminds her of Lhoris, and as much as she wants to wallow in self-pity, she could really talk to somebody who isn’t in the Inquisition's inner circle, a Chantry priestess or Creators-forbid… Solas. 

She could use a good evening with somebody who could potentially be called a friend.

“Varric...” calls Lana, and Varric turns around to regard her with a gentle smile, “You can come in if you like? If you want to, of course. I don’t want to intrude on your evening plans or anything.”

“If by ‘plans’ you mean waiting around for the world to end?” and shrugs his shoulders sarcastically. “I think I can push that back.”

Lana laughs and lets Varric in.

Once Lana closes the door behind them, she frantically looks about the room for a place to seat her guest, “You can sit... here.” and quickly puts her evening meal down on the table as she drags the only chair in the cabin out for Varric.

“Hey, don’t worry about me, I’m happy standing.”

Lana stops moving the chair towards him as she is unsure of what to do next. She isn’t used to entertaining “guests” and doesn’t know what the “rules” are. So instead, she settles for an awkward stare down.  

“Come on,” persists Varric as he moves himself to the corner of the table, placing his bowl down. “I insist.” and gestures for Lana to take the chair. 

Lana releases a sheepish grin, brings the chair in towards the table and sits down, “Thank you.” and brings her bowl in closer as they both dig into their meal.

“So,” begins Varric. “Now that Cassandra’s out of earshot, are you holding up alright? I mean, you go from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the armies of the faithful. Most people would have spread that out over more than just one day.”

Taking a big gulp of her stew, “I have no idea what’s happening anymore.”

Varric chuckles, “That makes two of us. For days now, we’ve been staring at the Breach, watching demons and Maker-knows-what fall out of it. ‘Bad for morale’ would be an understatement,” Varric pauses and looks down into his steaming meal. “I still can’t believe anyone was in there and lived.”

“If it was that bad, why did you stay? Cassandra said you were free to go.” 

Lana brings a spoonful of hot broth up-to her mouth and then slowly sips at the edges of the spoon.

Varric stops stirring his vegetables around and sighs, “I like to think I’m as selfish and irresponsible as the next guy, but this,” shaking his head and looking mournfully at Lana. “Thousands of people died on that mountain. I was almost one of them! And now there’s a hole in the sky? Even I can't even walk away and just leave that to sort itself out.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, thank you for staying. The Breach needs to be sealed. The sooner the better.”

“If it can be sealed,” Varric leans against the cabin walls and looks at Lana for a moment as he contemplates something, and then moves in closer to whisper. “You might want to consider running at the first opportunity. I’ve written enough tragedies to recognise where this is going,” and leans back to take a spoonful of stew. “Heroes are everywhere. I’ve seen that. But the hole in the sky? That’s beyond heroes. We’re going to need a miracle.”

Lana looks down at her bowl and begins to lose herself in the bobbing vegetable chunks in her stew, “I wish everybody else saw it that way. I’m just... me.”

Varric pushes away his empty bowl and sighs. “Look, I’m just going to say it…” and Lana looks up at Varric puzzled. “That stew was... terrible!”

Lana relaxes and laughs with a light and pleasant sound, “It’s not the best, is it?”

“Are you kidding?” Varric fans his fingers across his chest dramatically. “Even I could make a better stew than this nug-shit, and that’s saying something.”

“Yeah, I’m not a very good cook either. I suppose I never had to really learn. We always had at least two people dedicated to preparing the meals back home.”

Varric leans against the cabin wall again and crosses his arms over his chest, “You’re from the Marchers, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

Pointing his thumb up towards himself, “Kirkwall.”

Lana smiles widens as she cries out, “I had no idea! What a small world! I’ve only been to Kirkwall once, although I’ve only been in the harbour mind you. Up until recently, I had never been anywhere else. Only Tamara would go to the towns or cities to trade with the shems.”

“Tamara?”

Lana shakes her head at her foolishness, “Oh right, sorry. Tamara is one of my clan’s merchants,” and pauses before murmuring. “But to me, she’s more like a sister.”

With kind and caring eyes, Varric attempts to console Lana. “You must miss her. Has Liliana managed to contact your clan yet?”

Digging and fumbling around in her almost empty bowl, Lana looks up at Varric with confusion. “No?”

“Maker’s breath!” cries Varric. “Okay, first thing tomorrow morning, find Liliana and tell her you need to contact your clan.”

“That’s sweet Varric but news of the Conclave would have reached them by now. They probably think I’m dead and moved on. I wouldn’t know how to find them.”

Varric leans across the table and looks at Lana with a confidant grin. “Trust me, Liliana can find them. Don’t you worry about that, kiddo.”

“Really?” 

Varric stands up straight, crosses his arms over his chest and simply nods.

Lana quietly judges Varric’s confidence, and realises that if Liliana really can find her clan, then that means she can allow herself to hope to be reunited with her family once everything is over.

“I would be truly grateful! Thank you, Varric.”

“No problem,” Varric drops his arms and scratches the back of his head, “Man, I’m glad to have a warm meal but Maker’s breath, that was just awful.”

Lana releases another carefree laugh but is instantly interrupted by another sudden and unexpected knock at the door.

Varric turns his head towards the door and looks back at Lana with a cheeky smile and raised eyebrow, “Expecting someone?”

Realising his carnal insinuation, Lana blushes and cries out, “Creators! No!” and Varric laughs wildly while she calls towards the door, “Who is it?”

And a quiet, soothing voice answers back, “Solas. Apologies for the intrusion, but I was hoping for only a moment of your time?”

Lana's pleasant mood visibly dissipates and she slumps into her chair, rolls her eyes and releases a loud groan. Which causes Varric to raise both eyebrows in surprise at her sudden, dramatic shift in mood. She then shoves the chair back, causing a loud screech on the wooden floor and marchers over to the door. 

With one swift motion, Lana opens the door wide enough to clearly indicate she isn’t alone and that Solas is indeed intruding on her very pleasant evening.

“Oh,” gasps Solas as he looks at Varric, who waves back at him awkwardly. “I didn’t realise you had company.” 

With one hand on the door and the other resting on her hip, Lana snaps. “Is there something you need, Solas?”

Solas looks back at Lana, “It’s no matter. I will find you-”

“You know what,” mutters Varric from inside the cabin as he grabs both bowls. “I was just about to leave anyway,” and walks towards the door, and past the two very clearly, upset elves. “So if you don’t mind me El, I think I’ll be heading off. It was good catching up.”

Varric staying is the only reasonable excuse Lana can use to dismiss Solas. But with her excuse literally walking out the door, Lana desperately cries out, “Varric, there’s really no need-”

“It’s no problem,” insists Varric. “I need a few mugs of ale to wash down this stew anyhow,” and begins walking questionably fast as he shouts without looking back, “See you kids in the morning!” and leaves Lana and Solas to watch him disappear into the darkness.

Eventually Lana murmurs, “Good night...”

Shit.

With his arms behind his back, Solas turns back around and looks down at Lana, who is still blocking the entrance to the cabin. 

Feeling his gaze on her, Lana ultimately looks back at him in return. Neither one says anything.

Well, this is just GREAT.

And as if they were in one of Varric’s cheesy romance novels, they both speak up at the same time. 

Lana releases a forced, awkward laugh and averts her gaze while Solas holds his own without managing to break eye contact. 

Clearly uncomfortable and wanting to get out of the cold, Lana attempts to speak first, “Do you... do you want to come in?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Lana steps aside, allowing Solas in and closes the door behind him. Still lingering at the entrance, she turns around and watches him stride to the middle of the room and then turn back around to face her. His shoulders pulled back, standing perfectly poised and straight.

Lana isn’t sure what to do now, so she folds her arms across her chest and looks around the room awkwardly. 

Why is he just staring at me?

With a calm and controlled voice, Solas finally breaks the tension, “I wanted to apologise. Again. It seems I am constantly finding new ways to offend you,” Lana flicks her gaze back at him, visibly surprised. “I should not have allowed my previous experience with the Dalish to cloud my opinion of your clan. I regretfully admit that I have indeed ‘painted you with the same brush’ so to speak. And for that, I’m sorry.”

By his mannerism and delivery, it is clearly evident that Solas really means every word. He truly is regretful and Lana finds herself shamefully surprised.

After their confrontation, she had decided that he was an arrogant, selfish man who relishes in being superior in knowledge, intellect and rare experiences as a dreamer. 

But now?

Lana visibly relaxes her tense shoulders and feebly murmurs, “Thank you.”

Solas turns his gaze away from Lana and walks towards the window, the candle’s light subtly highlighting the edges of his silhouette, “You see, I have wondered many roads in my time, and crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion. I have offered to share my knowledge, only to be attacked for no greater reason than their superstition. Most care very little about improving their lives. They already consider themselves perfect, the sole keepers of elven lore,”

Solas drops his head and closes his eyes, “Liar. Fool. Madman. There are endless ways to say someone isn’t worth listening to,” and he turns his head around with his eyes giving away his pain. “Over time, it grinds away at you.”

Lana can’t stop herself from staring at him as she left completely lost for words. His misery and suffering tugging at her empathic heart.

Lana takes a small step forward, “Solas-”

“Until today,” interjects Solas as he turns around fully with a gentle smile. “You are the first of your people to ask me about my travels, my stories,” and awkwardly tugs at his sleeves. “It’s been... a long time since anyone has shown genuine interest in what I have to share. And if you’d like, I would be more than happy to answer any of your questions, to the best of my ability.” 

With a subtle nod, Lana smiles sincerely, “Thank you, I would like that very much.”

Solas smiles back and moves closer to Lana, his tall and broad physique blocking the candle’s light. 

“Before I take my leave, I have something of yours,” and removes a rolled piece of parchment from his belt, and hands it over to Lana. “I believe you might be missing this.”

Confused, Lana takes the parchment, looks at Solas for a moment, and proceeds to slowly unravel it before him as she gasps. It’s her unfinished sketch of the Keeper. 

“I had no idea I dropped it!” and looks up at Solas with a sincere smile, “Thank you.”

Solas nods with a gentle smile in return, “You’re welcome. And I believe I’ve taken up enough of your time.” 

Solas walks towards the door as Lana follows him. He opens the door, steps outside and looks down at Lana with a sincere smile, “I will see you in the morning.” and begins closing the door.

Impulsively, Lana leaps forward and grabs onto the side of the door and calls out, “Solas, wait...”

Solas lets go of the door handle, turns around and stares at Lana curiously. 

Lana opens the door a little further and looks down at the ground for a moment before looking back up at Solas with remorse, “I would like to apologise for my behaviour, too. I said a lot of things to you which were unkind and hurtful, and I let my temper get the better of me... ir abelas, lethallin.”

Solas releases a heartfelt smile and nods, “Thank you.”

After hearing Solas’s tragic story about how the Dalish have treated him in the past, she cannot help but feel embarrassed and ashamed, and feels she needs to apologise on behalf of her people, too, “And I’m sorry for how the Dalish have treated you in the past. I truly had no idea,” and with her deep set frown and pale, lavender eyes peering up at him, she bravely declares, “It isn’t right and if I am ever in the position to change things, I know exactly where to start.” 

“You are a rarity amongst your people, da’len. And thank you for allowing me to speak with you this evening. I look forward to our many academic discussions moving forward.”

And with that, Solas turns around and walks away. Only once she can no longer see him, does Lana slowly close the door and look down at the unfinished picture of Keeper Deshanna. A bit crinkled, but no matter. She’s just happy to have the Keeper back with her.

Unbelievably exhausted, Lana decides to call it a day and puts the Keeper back with the others. She then takes the candlestick from the windowsill and places it in the middle of the room. 

She then proceeds to take apart her nicely made bed and apologises, in her mind, to whomever makes her bed for her as they will find everything on the floor. Again.

Using the thin cotton sheet, she lays it neatly on the cabin floor next to the bed. Then, taking her loose wolf fur, she lays it down on the sheet and immediately follows with laying out the softer, stuffed blanket on top of that. 

Once nicely centered, she visually divides the blanket into thirds, folding the right-third inwards and then the left-third over that. Then she tucks the bottom of her makeshift cocoon underneath itself and stands back to admire her work. 

Well, if this is the closest I’ll get to what I have back home, then that's fine with me.

Satisfied, Lana grabs the last crucial element of her creation - the pillow. 

Once changed into her sleepwear, Lana wiggles her way into her bed and turns around to face the candle, and stares into its dull, dim glow as it reaches the end of its wick.

First thing tomorrow I will find Liliana, so that she can try to contact the Keeper before Cassandra keeps me busy all day.

Then, I’ll find Solas in the evening to learn more about the ancient elvhen.

Lana closes her heavy, tired eyes and its not long until the flame of the candle runs out. 

Oh, and don’t forget to ask him about that strange shoe-thing across his neck.

Oh wait, it can’t be a shoe - doesn’t it have teeth?

Elvish to English Translation:

“Mir da’vhenan” = my little-heart

“Ar lath, ma da’len” = I love you, my child

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

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Halla & Wolf Series

[ofcloudsandstars]

Life Update:

I have been away for a BIT but a lot has happened since then. Aside from some crazy energy shifts (some early spooky spirit-level vibes coming from Pluto coming out of Retrograde on the 3rd) having wild vivid dreams and bizarre experiences, there's some that took the cake and also I needed some time to just be quiet and spend my little free time not chatting to anyone or being online.

Anyway a story I wanted to share is the on going saga with that rich man who spent his years saving and conserving a rain forest in Tanzania. We met on Autumn's Eve to discuss his project he was trying to raise money for. He is going through a lot right now cause it's his second Saturn return and this huge farm he owns in Tanzania that he made a shit ton of money from is falling apart due to climate change and corruption. It turns out this man has dabbled in/has interest in the occult (as all bored white rich people do) and was interested in my craft. He's an American born and raised in Louisiana that moved to NYC for a while to write for a magazine, had some wild experiences with a vodou church there and moved to England when he got married but now has been divorced for like 17 years and is still not over it. Anyway I felt comfortable opening up about my practice and that evening anyway I was going to go to a friend's house to do some autumn eve magic and had some stuff in my bag. So he asked for a tarot reading for insight in his future and we like hang out in Hyde park which is GORGEOUS in fall colors right now and I do a reading for him. This is the beginning of a very long story so if you are interested in reading another episode in my hot mess ass life, get a nice cup of tea and click the read more lol. 

Essentially we can summarize his current life as his job is going through a tower card phase due to saturn return shaking up all that foundations are weak or no longer serving him. He's supposed to resurrect the rainforest conservation project and he already knows this answer deep down inside. I am like cool that's great we connected cause I have been making a lot of friends recently that are getting involved in forest conservation or are buying land to grow forests on with native trees so its cool we created this friendship.  Nice. Now he wants a love reading which I just feel reluctant to do. I already had that feeling you know when someone wants a love reading when they really shouldn't be focusing on that? Its fine though cause Tarot is honest as hell and validates my feelings. He essentially wants someone to distract his current troubles and saturn return lessons to get whisked away in a romance and dump his issues on from the failure of the farm and his divorce of 17 years he's still not over. 

He's still unsatisfied so to placate him I do a lenormand reading of what type of lover could suit him now in his troubling time. Lenormand just shows someone that is ambitious and working in the same field but also a side kick. Cool so you want a cheerleader to support you when you are down that’s nice don't we all. He then says the reading is vague and doesn't everyone want that? And I am like no not at all like for example, I currently don't want any relationship I want to work on myself but if I were to have an ideal relationship I'd love it to be with someone who is a home maker, someone who is emotionally available, who's love language is like smothering me physically with affection, definitely not someone who fucks off for two weeks to months at a time to the other side of the hemisphere, but anyway it’s all hypothetical so it doesn't matter. Anyway with his lack of satisfaction I am like, look sir, next week is the Libra new moon, it's a great time to ask to find a partner that will be a great match in this trying time.

I completely forget that I gave him this information. We smoke a blunt he was keeping in his nifty dressy blazer inner pocket and I go off to see my good Aries witch friend and have an INSANE NIGHT where we nearly BURNT down her fucking apartment in an episode of  ✧ *:・ﾟFire Magic Gone Wrong *:・ﾟ✧. 

I was trying to make some candles for autumn's eve with carved green apples and when I melted the wax we didn't realize how powerful her oven was. Plus my stupid lazy ass left the wick in there. So when we tried to open the oven cause we were smelling the intense smoke, a fucking PLUME of dark smoke would come out BURNING THE SHIT out of our eyes and choke the shit out of us. We tried to open the windows and vents, I tried to quickly pull it out and some wax splashed out and burned the shit out of my leg and arm and I have little burn mark scars now, but with the wick in there with that heat it IGNITED there was a burst of flames coming out, My friend was NOT HAVING IT like imagine an Aries hollerin and a Fire Ablazin and the fire alarm is louder than a fucking rave EDM beat like I was trying to think as clear as possible and see if she had a fire extinguisher she was like: BITCH DO I LOOK LIKE A RESTAURANT TO YOU and so I call the emergency line to get the fire department while she fucking, just, gets a massive fucking cauldron of water and dumps it in the oven and wax is oil so you know what happens when you throw water on flaming oil it fucking EXPLODES so she's like fucking James Bond slow motion running away from a ball of Fire and fortunately the fire is out cause it gets smothered by smoke and water 

...so I am like: Oh thank you mr. police sir but the fire is gone no need to come, but as my friend is still HOLLERIN in full panic mode in the background and the police on the phone still hear her Panic and is like: Uh no we are still coming.. 

Its a bit comical and surreal at this point cause I try to calm my friend down with some water as I air out the apartment and she goes from Hollerin to   q u i e t   real quick when she hears all these LOUD ass sirens. She's like.. Alex.. What are we gonna tell the police when they arrive?? I am like damn bitch why you acting like we did something contraband like its just an oven fire we extinguished it. But she was having that Black Moment of Fear™ like we were two hot mess black witches gonna have the police up in her apartment due to some dumb ass witchcraft gone wrong like I was still trying to be calm but she was like whispering my name like Aleeexx those sirens, they are coming for us!! And I was like oh my god you are panicking they are probably just police cars for something else we are in London shit happens here all the time. 

Anyway the loud sirens just STOP in front of the building and she's like: a l e x... All of a sudden we hear a Bing! And its the fire department outside. We see the windows in the hallway outdoors and this MASSIVE ASS FIRE TRUCK THE SIDE OF THE BUILDING'S WIDTH is just parked there y'all.. The neighbor across the hallway opens her door to see what the fuck is going on and she was not pleased. Since her windows face the street her whole living room looked like a rave disco with red and blue flashing lights she was like what the fuck were you dumbasses doing and my friend is like ohh my god.. 

So next thing we knew there were 5 Fully geared firemen in the apartment and like.. Miraculously with the power of all that is good in the world there is like no sign that there was ever anything that happened?! So the firemen of course were wanting some explanations. Of course they can smell a little bit of smoke but I am like: Oh yeah sorry it was a grease fire gone wrong it was the first time we used this oven but we managed to squash it, it was just overwhelming and we wanted you guys over just in case it escalated. So one fireman is like snooping around for some further answers like: haha cooking sausages usually kicks up a lot of grease, what were you cooking? And my friend who is guilty as hell is like: its just oil but so sorry wejustletitburnintheovensosorryitwasjust and I am like taking the conversation by the horns like: We were trying a recipe to bake the apples over there (yes the ones still hollowed out on the kitchen counter,) but it went wrong. Anyway the firemen noted that there was like no damage ("don't even mention it to your land lord! Haha!" one says) and they just install two fire alarms for free and leave. So me and my friend who are Shaken from this Drama especially when after the firemen left there was no trace of like anything even happening and this all escalated and deescalated in less than an hour so we just scrap any magic we had planned that night and watch The Craft instead. Autumn’s Eve completed..

Ok so I have a blissful and amazing Mabon then a few days pass and I am back at work with the shenanigans of the weekend out of my mind and I get a text from the old rich guy again. He wants me to come over for dinner on Sunday and chat some more about the forest conservation project. I am a bit annoyed as it's Libra new moon but maybe I could balance dinner with him and go home and do some spells (balance, see what I did there? lol.) So I say yes, it's Libra new moon afterall and maybe its nice to make a new friendship revolving around helping the planet.

 He's texting me like: Do you like Oysters? And I am like.. that's so random why Oysters? And he goes on about how he's from Louisiana and he gets homesick so he likes eating them I am like ok I guess.. But he's also like: let me get some Gavi (white wine) and I am starting to get that feeling of unease but I am like: I got to work early the next day so I am not going to drink. He's like ok fine. 

I mention it to some of my coworkers and they are teasing me about how this old man wants to 'play in my rainforest' and it makes me want to gag. Like I am hoping that its a case of me misjudging some man like surely this is a sensible old man that is lonely and just is happy to find a friend that cares about the earth and his project? Anyway Sunday night comes and I am on my way to his house. He lives in some gorgeous townhouse off a main street. The stairwell spirals up the 3 floors of the house with exotic trees growing in between the landings and reaching up through the center of the spiral stairs. There are pictures of artwork he's collected as well as some chameleon named after him in the rain forest in Tanzania as a thankyou to his conservation efforts. I get to the second landing before his kitchen and I hear to my DREAD some fucking jazz music. Oh hell no. I immediately am like: I need to use your toilet. So I go to his immensely large bathroom which also has little trees growing in there in between the large sink and deep teal painted clawed foot tub. I am texting my Aries witch friend cause she lives around the corner like: GURL GET ME THE FUCK!! OUT OF HERE!! and she's like: Oh no baby you's in danger, let me know if you need help. So I gather my strength like: Ok he can't be this delusional especially after the Talk and the Tarot on his lovelife and the fact that he's old enough to be my dad, so let me keep the convo friendly and hopefully this will be a big misunderstanding.

I mean by now you know my fool meter is immensely high, but anwyay I go into his kitchen and I ask him boldly what's the occasion for this dinner? So he skirts the question by saying how he designed his home after stuff in Louisiana that he misses blahblah and stuff from the rainforest I am like: Cool, whats the occasion for this dinner? And he's like: You know, celebrating friendship, you want wine? I don't want wine cause I told him I need to go home early I have to work, and he mentions the spare bedroom on the top floor. I tell him I'm uninterested in staying over even though yes it's conveniently 10 minutes walk from my job but I have house plants to take care of (yeah I use that house plants excuse I don't give a fuck! lol).  Anyway he steers the conversation to the fresh oysters he just shucked. So we are eating oysters, I try not to put any energy on the nature of him eating his oysters and I direct the conversation to how he came about conserving the rainforest, his networking skills and how he raised money to buy that much land and plant millions of trees. I end up gleaning a lot of helpful and not so much helpful info (I mean, it just helps if you are a wealthy well connected white man lmao), and we even talk about other interesting stuff like I get him to talk about how the stock market works, his daily routine at the members club I work at, William Kamkwamba who built the windmill in Malawi from some inspo from library books (his ex brother in law made a film about it which he suggested I stay over to watch with him, which I declined cause of my house plants I needed to get back to at home), his divorce he can't stop talking about cause he's not truly over it. Anyway dinner is nice, we eat some very unseasoned gumbo he made that reminds him of his childhood and throughout the dinner I am doing shielding energy exercises and channeling the power of Saturn to re-affirm my boundaries and practice the glorious power of "No". So with Saturn's channeled influence I am ready to put an end to the night and I am like: thanks for everything I think I'll go now, but before I go should I help with the dishes? He says no cause: It's a one-man show. I ask him to Elaborate, and instead he offers me to get some chocolate so I am like.. ok... 

Anyway he is standing at the other side of his kitchen so I get up to get some and he turns around to embrace me, and y'all... it's a LONG and UNCOMFORTABLE hug complete with 1. back rubbing, 2. neck sniffing, 3. aura invading, so I pull away to ask about what chocolate it is and it's dark chocolate oh god. Anyway this is actually the beginning of the climax of the tension of the night to my foolish self cause this man who is unwillingly ignoring my discomfort has the fucking audacity to ask the question: Do you like dancing? I literally answer him with the same boldness that he asked that question: I hate dancing and never danced in my life. lol. He wasn't taking No for an answer so he decided to be like: Let me show you music I like to dance to. So he puts on some old 70s-esque rock and starts dancing alone in his living room like: Dance with me! I am like No. He says something like: I love dancing it helps to open you up. We all just got to get over our embarrassment and let loose! I am like: Ok I gotta let loose in your toilet again be right back.

So I hide in his bathroom again texting my witch friend like: S.O.S. BITCH let me come over to your apartment and she's like: Oh sorry I am in a party in north London .............. 😭

So I go out to face the mess and he's now trying to get another song I could potentially relate to so he's like: Let me play this song my 13 year old picked out for me.. Great..  Next thing my Ears are hearing is: Mr. Brightside by the Killers and I am dying y'all.. I am over it.. He is taking my laughter as an invitation to get me to dance but now with the full power of Saturn I was like: No. I am going home, I don't feel well, I have been having some kidney issues ("Oh is that why you were always in the bathroom?"- "Yeah that's.. why.. definitely..") and I gotta get up early. So he looks sad. I am like it's ok, we can hang out in the day time, outside of your home next time and talk more about the rainforest conservation. He's like, ok but before you go we have to do this? I am like: Do what?

NEXT THING I KNOW TO MY HORROR I SEE HIM LEAN IN, TAKE MY SIDES AND TRY TO KISS ME AND I AM LIKE: 

NO!!

I Push him away, and FLY down his 3 flights of stairs, spiraling down his house, and he's chasing me like fucking No-Face chasing Chihiro saying: I WASN'T GOING TO PUT MY TONGUE IN YOUR MOUTH!! The fact that he said that I could feel my fucking bootyhole clench with dismay. I was mortified. I grabbed my shoes and was like.. see you around I guess (He is a regular at my job lol), and I fly down the street. 

When I get home he texts me if I have a moment for a chat so I am like ok fine why not? He fucking VIDEO CALLS ME and on top of it is eating something fucking nasty and I have misophonia so I am fucking disgusted and I turn off my video (I mean its like modern millenial tech etiquette but video calls are pretty intimate or you have to prepare for them, just springing up a video chat is a bit violating?) and he's like: Oh should I turn off my video too? I don't answer.. so he does..

So he calls to essentially apologize. He admits that I at MANY TIMES have expressed that I was not interested in any relationship other than friendship and that he just wanted a friendly kiss on the mouth and it wasn't supposed to be sexual. Ok... He also says that he doesn't understand why we can't be intimate and be friends.. With my DEAD SILENCE he then fills it like: Ok yeah that's true there is a massive age gap and different comforts with intimacy.. He then admits he has a sexual attraction to me and it would be dishonest to say otherwise but we should still be friends.. I am like: I wouldn't mind being friends but I can't trust someone who doesn't respect my boundaries like I have boundaries. We end with him saying: I understand, you have your boundaries then.. Lol.

Anyway as a blessing I haven't seen him since..

It took me like a full several days later after seeing another witchy friend who asked me about my new moon libra rituals I realized I didn't get to HAVE ANY cause he fucking Eclipsed my night with his bullshittery, that it was actually my fault as I gave him an idea to use that evening to try to find a partner when I did his tarot reading on Autumn Eve but instead he was trying to use all kinds of tricks of seduction for me to be his unwilling cheerleader. Goes to show that a man can spend years of his life planting 16.7 million trees and still be trash lol.

-------

Other than those recent drama episodes not much has happened to me other than some resurfaced trauma and closure from years ago in college that ended a chapter in my life for me once Pluto came out of retrograde. Other mildly exciting news, I also worked my Alchemist friend's bar yesterday on Sunday for a Fungi Fest in Hoxton. (Look up her work she's Mama Xanadu she does cool shit.) She made non-alcoholic cocktails potions with spirits based with roots and herbs like damiana, maca, passion flower etc that makes you feel energized but also mellow (three spirit is one of the partners that work with her their stuff is kind of nice though you do feel like you're drinking some type of brew) and her brews were made from different mushroom infusions like one was a delicious turkeytail brew made with hibiscus and douglas fir and another was with kombucha and seabuckthorn juice and one with a mushroom named amethyst deceiver and hops. She also makes her own essences and made some mushroom essences (like flower essences but with the vibrational influence of mushrooms) to add in there. I met some interesting and Strange people like you do at any alternative spiritualish wholesome event. I met a beautiful boy who is sadly in a relationship that we vibed very hard to the unfortunate dismay of his disgruntled girlfriend and I met a couple from poland who looked like a lost boys vampire couple (one was dressed in a black iridescent latex trenchcoat with one long earring with playing cards attached to it with long hair and his girlfriend had like layers of black scarves and coat like some mori grunge style with a black bowl hat on) who were trying to convince me how MDMA is the same as medicinal mushrooms and that it's its own type of spiritual ritual now. (I was like, sure Jäan..). Now that I have had a moment to like rest and reflect, and accept that I can't save some of my house plants and my life's direction still seems so uncertain and Hot Mess I am like ready to focus on my craft again and interact with my blog lol.

Anyway if you read until the end wow, thanks so much. I hope you had a great new moon.

[fortunatowrites]

The Accident of Life

Writing Prompt: You are can tell when someone’s going to die soon. You never try to change things but one day you see someone you love is going to die soon.

“My place in this world is an accident,” he said after a shot of scotch.

“All of us are an accident,” she replied musingly.

“Hmm?”

He looked up from his drink to the girl across the bar.

“Stardust and gases fused through explosions, time, and gravity. I think that’s right, at least,” she smirked.

He chuckled. “You’re right. I’m an accident made by accidents.”

She tilted her head at him, her short auburn hair falling over her face. It was a thing she did when confused and something that he smiled at with a sigh. She was wonderful, but he could never be a part of her life or invite her into the awfulness that was his.

The gruff man rapped upon the bar for another glass. As he watched the bartender filled the glass again, his mind drifted back.

One week ago, in this bar, he sat back in the corner leaning a chair against the wall. His brimmed hat tilted over to shadow his face and give the false implication of sleep. Most people ignored him, thinking he was some weird cowboy wanna-be.

At the bar, two men talked loudly and rudely. Their topic was the women they’ve been with and who they’d want to be with, who was off limits, and what was next to do. Their eyes occasionally watching a nearby woman drinking at the bar.

It wasn’t until many drinks later that she would finally leave the bar. She would leave unfortunately unaware of the two ruffians following her. The stranger tilted his hat up to get a good look at the men finishing their drinks. One of them was glowing red. He smiled and let a thought go across his mind before blinking. Now they were both glowing red. That was all he needed to get up and discreetly follow them.

-

Now, back at the bar.

The Stranger swirled his scotch around, letting the ice cubes clink around.

“You’re acting strange today,” spoke the woman.

“Isabel,” he said, almost in a whisper. “I’ve done bad things.”

“We’ve been drinking together for a long time, buddy! I know you too well to believe that,” she said, beaming a smile.

“Heh.”

The idea was very amusing to him that she would believe him to be that type of person. The idea itself that he could even pass as a person was amusing.

-

One month ago, in the alley behind the bar. There was the steady sound of liquid splashing against the wall of a nearby building. The Stranger leaned back, hidden in the shadows behind a dumpster. The overwhelming stench of trash wasn’t bothering him as he watched the drunk man pee against the wall. Soon, another man approached him and brandished a blade. He was glowing red in the Stranger’s eyes.

“Give me all you got!” he barked.

“Huh?” the drunk slurred, turning and peeing on the mugger.

“Bastard!” the mugger shouted with a shove, knocking the drunk back into the alley.

As the mugger approached his prey, the drunk produced a gun and fired. The mugger dropped his knife and gasped as he collapsed to his knees. The drunk muttered something hateful as he got up and fumbled his pants. He tried to spit on the bleeding man, but missed. Then he simply stumbled away.

The Stranger smiled as he stepped out of the shadows and approached the bleeding man. The mugger looked up with an absolute fear in his heart.

-

Now.

“You’ve always brought out my best. Drinking with you has made me feel good,” spoke the Stranger.

“Stop talking like I’m going away somewhere! It’s weird,” she said laughing.

He took a swig of the scotch and gritted his teeth. It was strong, but liquor always tasted particularly strong to him.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he said, flashing her a grin.

“Only if we’re walking to get hot dogs.”

“My treat.”

-

Three months ago.

A bridge, a long walk away from the alley, sits over a shallow river. A man glowing blue is stumbling through the woods, frightened beyond belief. The branches snap and dried leaves crumble and crack underneath his feet. A dog was charging behind him, barking wildly with anger. As he reached the edge of the woods, he looked back to see if he could still see the wild beast. He did not see it. Nor did he see the large rocks before him.

With a loud yelp, he tripped and stumbled, striking his head against a rock and leaving him in a state between conscious and unconscious. Possibly survivable, if not for the fact he landed face first into the river. The dog reached the edge and sniffed the air. It caught whiff of the Stranger, whimpered and ran.

The Stranger stepped out from beneath the bridge and walked over to the man, watching the bubbles around his head gurgle and pop. He smiled a toothy grin and stooped low over the man.

A woman stepped into view, walking upon the water’s surface. The Stranger looked up at her, her glowing beauty shrouded in dark colors. She was an absolute contrast of the gruff looking scoundrel standing opposite her besides the drowning man. Two creatures of the night, well dressed and ready to perform unearthly actions.

“His time to pass is almost upon us. I don’t see signs of partnership, stranger,” her lovely voice spoke.

It was like the caring gentleness of a whisper but loud enough to be heard clearly across a rumbling stream.

“I’m hungry,” he replied.

She scoffed, “Blue ones are meant for higher things. But the red ones… they’re left to a different cause.”

“I want this one. I’ve been waiting.”

“Are you sure?” she said as a fountain of water began to rise besides her. She reached into it and pulled out a black handled scythe with a large crescent moon blade, shining with moonlight.

“Fine,” he said, retreating under the bridge. “But can you take care of these other bodies?”

The lady of the water looked with a slight disapproval at the corpses that were under the bridge in the Stranger’s lair.

-

Now.

The woman ate her hot dog and watched the Stranger light a cigarette. He sat across the table from her and let the smoke drift upwards, aiming away from her.

“You know I don’t care if you smoke around me,” she said with a mouthful of food.

“It can’t be enjoyable though,” he said holding the glowing stick aloft.

“Or can it?”

He let out a huff of air that could best be described as a polite laugh.

“So what did you mean by accident? My parents didn’t plan for me either.”

“Parents...”

It hung in the air for a moment as he pondered the subject.

“I have one parent,” he began.

“Ah, a donor? Sounds like the opposite of accident. Super planned.”

He smiled as he continued, “He summoned me in the hopes that I’d make him stronger.”

She tilted her head and smirked as she tried not to laugh. They locked eyes and he took another drag of his cigarette before deciding to jump straight to the point.

“I can tell when people are going to die...”

“Oh yeah?” she said with a disbelieving smile, bright white against her blue glow.

-

Six months ago, in an abandoned shack deep in the woods outside of town.

The robed man returned with a bucket of water from the river nearby. Walking over to a large wooden receptor, he poured it into a strange trough-like contraption that made the water flow in a circle around the center of his shack. The Stranger sat in the middle, arms crossed and in a huff. He was directly in the middle of a red pentagram-like symbol on the floor. Candles were lit around the room, surrounding the trough.

“I’ll bring you the last sacrifice tonight,” spoke the robed man’s raspy voice.

The Stranger simply glared at him, watching his every move traced in a dark red aura that glowed magnificently. Many self inflicted scars covered the face of this wicked man.

“Still not saying anything more to me?” spoke the man.

The Stranger sat silently until sundown.

“About time for you to go,” he grumbled.

“You must be hungry if you’re giving me reminders.”

The man gave an evil grin the the Stranger, but the Stranger simply sat and stared. The man grumbled and went off to his corner of the shack. He adorned his costume and then the robed man set off into the night. A few hours passed by before a sudden knocking on the door.

The Stranger perked up. Sounds of movement outside the door went to the window, where someone was trying in vain to see inside. The windows were barred and draped, but the old dirtiness and cobwebs would have been just as good.

“Please...help me...” the Stranger pleaded, imitating a person in danger.

“Oh my god!” came the muffled voice.

“I’m alone and hurt...”

“I’ll save you!”

Sure enough, the wayward traveler found their way inside. They were glowing blue and the Stranger couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh, how I’ve waited for someone like you.”

-

Now.

They went back to her apartment and the Stranger sat in a chair next to her bed. She was tossing and turning, thinking it was just from a night of drinking and partying. The Stranger didn’t have the heart to tell her that she was dying. His guess was that she was bit by something terribly poisonous while wandering the woods the morning before.

“It’s been a while,” spoke the whispered voice.

The Stranger sat silently.

“Did I not tell you to stick to Reds? I even ignored when you would bring down associates of reds early.”

Still he said nothing. She summoned the scythe.

“I won’t let you take her,” he stated, still refusing to physically acknowledge her.

“Then you’ll go with her,” returned her whispered threat.

“Gladly,” he said, still not turning towards her.

About ten minutes passed before he had the courage to look over. The room was empty.

“Just this once, demon.”

The Stranger turned back to the woman struggling on the bed. Her brilliant blue glow was dimming slowly. He couldn’t help but gasp with relief. The burning of a tear ran down his face as he watched her glow completely fade.

“Thank you,” he spoke in a hushed whisper.

[the--amber--weave]

The Dream I Couldn't Wake Up From This Morning

I'm tired, pre-caffienated, and had a hard time waking up this morning. So I'm posting this so I don't forget. Feel free to share your thoughts, theories, or interpretations if you feel so inclined.

I was not myself, but very much me. Some friends and I were in school part time, and hung out a lot outside of that. All of us witches. Some of us spiritual. Some of us religious.

A new kid shows up. There is an accident. Someone dies during the last class of the day on the third floor. We are at the end of the hall on the first floor below the accident, and glass rained down. Blood. A body was there, but all we saw was an arm and a hand from underneath more glass, and a mess of fabric. The bell rings. People panic and run away.

The new kid an I stare at the body before police usher us away. I look at the kid, tell him it's not his fault. It's okay. He looks relieved and mad at the same time.

Our teacher pulls us back into the room. I have blood on my hand now. I don't remember getting cut, or touching blood. But there is glass and blood on my hand. The arm/hand of the body is clean.

The teacher asks us questions. Fast. Low. Like we both did something wrong. We didn't. She looks sad. I don't understand what she's said. We are escorted out by police, and it's dark out now. We wait, and wait, and wait. It's getting cold. My ride shows up just as I finished cleaning off my arm.

I watch the new kid as we pull away.

Time passes. New kid never came back. I'm older now. Friends with more people. Different people. The kid shows up again. He is obsessing over me now.

One by one, my friends disappear. They are taken by him one day, and gone entirely the next. I know he is killing them. Ritualistically absorbing them into these small tin pots. Their essence. Like a candle woth no wick. They are all dead, but still exist and I know it. I've seen the pots. I've felt the essences.

He is hunting me. I dared show positivity and he is hunting me, with a smile, woth an innocent face and demeanor.

My teacher from the past knows. She is trying to call, and send letters, but I get none. He intercepts all of them.

I have one witness. Not a friend, not a stranger. He watches me approach one day when this kid is painting a giant red arrow on the ground, pointing in my direction. I'm supposed to step on it. I'm supposed to fall in, and disintegrate. And he is supposed to eat me, and keep whatever is left.

My teacher shows up by car. She is panting like she has been running. I wave. The kid is livid. He is about to start telling, his eyes are glowing, his teeth are sharp, and he looks like he might cry. I crouch and hug him. He freezes. I whisper in his ear to get ready and come with us to the ocean.

He doesn't protest, and I feel all this energy pouring off of him, the way fog creeps over the edge, and down the outside of a Halloween fog machine. It was creeping out of him, down, trailing on the ground as he moved. Pooling around him when he was still. This energy was not his. He simply possessed it.

As hher steps into the car, he begs me to kill him. He is about to cry. I hand him a black ton pot. The wax inside is gold, shiny. It is a male friend of mine that he took and killed. He holds the pot in his hands and cries himself to sleep before we have even turned the car on.

Wee go to the ocean. He is plotting my death and his death on and off. Sometimes he sleeps. Sometimes he cries silently. I don't even glance at him through the mirror.

We arrive. I'm immediately drawn to the ocean. There is some pollution, but there are also lily pads and special red and oranhe lotus flowers that grow in this salt water. The waves are large. There are many starfish.

I finally bait the kid into the water. It never touches him past his feet. Even the large waves that splash up against the building that was precariously placed within reach of the tides is getting wet, but the water splits and avoids touching him.

I show him the sea stars. He is scared to touch them, but he does. I show him the puffer fish washing up on the shore, dying as they are killed by chemicals and litter. He weeps for them. We try to save some. They die.

Someone arrives with a large cross shaped box. They ask what spirit posses the box. I say it may be the grim reaper. I have him on my back pocket though. It is instead the spirit of mother and child, dead together, and reunited.

This is not my child. We are not dead. But I remember the accident from so long ago and know it is about that body. It must have been a mother and child. I look at the kid. He looks scared, like he knew all along.

We both know. We tell the bearer of the box to close it, as we do not need it.

The kid and I go inside and begin planting some lotuses we harvested into a fish tank. My teacher saved one of the puffer fish. It is also in this tank. He is weeping openly as we plant flowers and check on the fish.

We both know what happened that day, and where I am at peace with it, he has been eaten up by it all this time. He never matured. He never grew.

When I am done, I hold him in my arms. He sleeps. He sleeps all day and night. Forever. Face stained with tears. No matter where I go, or what I do. He is always with me from then on in my apartments, in my back pocket with the reaper, sometimes in the palm of my hand, and he sleeps, and sleeps, and sleeps.