What a sweet place you have wandered to. The forest trees here are scattered across a soft meadow of heather and wildflowers, and the sun dapples the ground through the leaves above. This is a wide section of earth, and it seems to be a gathering place–indeed, there is a ring of stones in one side of the open clearing where it seems fires have been built over many nights. To the south, a worn path leads to the Caldron Pool and the waterfall that feeds it. You can also see a path leading west toward the cliff-face. To the east the path leads into the deeper forests of Lantern Waste.
Crenna is resting under one of the shrubs, her eyes half closed. However, her ears are moving and her nose twitches alerting someone that she may be very much awake.
Lanisen follows the path west in the evening, a mostly-empty gathering sack over his shoulder. He looks tired.
Crenna’s ears perk up and she cracks a eye open. Her tail wags a bit.
Continue reading new face
In the Northern Woods
The dense and varied woodland of the Northern Wood has been broken up a little here, and a real glimpse of the sky is finally visible. The oak and white pine trees still dominate the area, but a small plot of land has been cleared for a sort of garden-meadow. A goat stands in a pen near the edge of the clearing, and a deep well has been dug there as well, walled up so that no one will stumble in. Set back into the trees and brush, where it would be almost hidden if it did not have the goat pen to mark it, is a small cottage-like house.
Because of the thick undergrowth, it’s rather hard to see any distinct paths leading out of the clearing.
Lanisen wanders to the edge of the clearing in the late afternoon, peering through the trees toward the house. He has a stained cloth bag mostly full of fresh herbs slung across his body.
Jana is emptying scraps into the goat trough.
Lanisen hesitates, glancing toward the windows of the house, then heads that way, in no particular hurry. “Hey,” he says once he’s near enough.
Continue reading one bake
In the Northern Wood
The Northern Wood is a dense and varied woodland. It consists predominantly of oak and white pine trees, with a variety of other groves growing here and there. Down here the undergrowth is quite thick, making it rather hard to see any distinct paths leading in any particular direction. Above you, the blue sky and bright sunlight are barely visible through the thick canopy of leaves overhead.
Lanisen wanders through the northern woods, a stained canvas bag slung messenger-style across his body. It’s mostly full of fresh herbs.
Crenna also pads through the woods, her own satchel a bit full. She hears the Son of Adam’s footsteps and makes a course towards him. “Hello there.”
Continue reading nettle
Lanisen sits quietly against the bole of a tree on the southeast side of the gathering circle, soaking up the reddish evening sunshine, reading a letter.
Crenna comes padding into the clearing, looking a bit weary though in good spirits. She seems to be heading to the shelter when she stops in her tracks, sniffing a familiar scent. She turns her head and smiles, “Lanisen?”
Lanisen lifts his head at the sound of his name, glancing to either side and behind him. “Crenna!” he says, lifting his eyebrows in pleasure and getting to his feet. “Hey, hi; I didn’t think to see you here.”
Continue reading mentors & healers
Please forgive me for the time it took to write to you. I had to take some time to consider your letter, as it caught me off guard and I wasn’t certain how to respond. Please know I am very happy for you and that you have found something that interests you and that will be of much good to others. I am certain you will grow to be a great healer some day.
Continue reading from dalia, 15 treeturn 1017
At the beginning of the Great River
You stand at the head of the Great River of Narnia, where it flows from the Caldron Pool and begins its southeastern journey toward the sea. Here, the river is fairly shallow and small, and looks pretty easy to cross. As it happens, you also stand at the edge of Lantern Waste, which lies to the east. The trees crowd the riverbank more closely in that direction, but the going doesn’t appear to be that difficult. To the west, you can see Cauldron Pool’s clear waters twinkling in the sunshine, and hear the roar of the waterfall as it crashes over the western cliffs.
Sunlight filters through the trees this afternoon in the Waste, turning everything green and gold. Pheeobe, taking a moment from her patrol, stops to listen to the waterfall and admire the scene. Her ear twitch at every sound and (for once) she isn’t humming.
Lanisen follows the path west along the riverbank, his footsteps crunching softly over occasional dead vegetation.
Pheeobe’s ears flick at the sound of incoming steps. She calls out, “Hello?” and walks through the shallow stream to the other side, supposing it may be an animal passing through.
Continue reading rivers
Here is a wide open space carved in the rock, roughly circular and no more than twenty yards in diameter. The cliffs loom high on every side, providing shelter from wind and weather, but a great opening very far up lets in sunlight and sky. A thin jet of water, perhaps a daughter-stream of the river that pours into Caldron Pool, cascades down the western cliff face and feeds into a deep pool the color and clarity of a well-cut emerald. The ground, except for a ring of vegetation surrounding the pool, is dry and sandy. A single ancient larch tree grows tall near the north wall.
All around, the cliff face is etched and pocked with half-open tunnels and dark holes, entrances to small caves hollowed out years ago by the long work of water on stone. Some are fitted with wooden doors and appear inhabited, but many still yawn empty. Up above, ledges and crevices in the rock provide nesting spaces for eagles and hawks. In the east wall, through a wide crevice like a wound in the stone, the forests of Lantern Waste are just visible.
Lanisen is perched alone on top of one of the rocks surrounding the pool, watching the afternoon light reflecting off the water and onto the basin walls. Surrounding him are several articles of clothing in various states of dampness, spread carefully out on the rocks to dry, including his shirt. The pants he is wearing also seem slightly damp in the got-doused-a-few-hours-ago way, especially on the left side. There’s a letter unfolded on the rock beside him, but he seems to have set it aside.
Ayla pads quietly into the basin, her nose to the ground, clearly following a scent. Lifting her head, she yelps softly in greeting, padding toward the rock upon which Lanisen sits, though pausing several feet from it and settling back on her haunches. She looks rather pleased with herself, perhaps for finding him in his secluded place.
Continue reading laundry day
At the Lamp-Post
You stand in the very heart of Lantern Waste, at the base of the lamp-post that gave this area its name. The clearing here is not particularly large, but there is a strange, almost eerie quality about it. The air is calm — quiet even — as if there is some reverence surrounding the lamp that even the environs respect.
The lamp is lit, casting a warm glow across the glade. Who lit it and how it remains lit is a mystery, but it shows no signs of faltering. To the south, you can hear the distant sounds of flowing water. A faint path leads through the trees to the east and west.
Ayla is seated on her haunches a foot or so from the lamp post, her tail curled around her feet, brown eyes surveying the urban wonder with a sad sort of contemplation. Creatures scurry through the trees around, but the small she-wolf holds her vigil, still and silent, ears pricked forward, no other aspect of her posture displaying any immediate awareness of anything beyond the lantern she has taken up company with.
Lanisen passes through, stepping off the path to enter the forest to the northeast. His eyes settle briefly on the Lamp-post, then avert just as quickly. He slows and stops, catching sight of Ayla, and tilts his head.
Continue reading remembrance
I don’t know how to write about this.
I did not leave to end the conversation; it is only that you were hurting me and I was hurting you and I could not find where it ended. It seems that things have been Bad for a very long time and I did not know, and I do not know when the bad times began, and I do not know how to sort the times that were Good from the times that were bad, and I wonder now if it was not bad all along. I am sorry for it.
Continue reading to megren, 10 treeturn 1017
To Lanisen in Lantern Waste, from Dame Megren at Cair Paravel
I wish that you felt comfortable having a conversation with me in person. I’m sorry that I’ve made it so you don’t. [crossed out — “I wish” followed by some more cross-outs that are unreadable.] It hurt me that you felt the best way to handle our conflicts was to end the conversation, and it hurt me even more that you chose to leave when you did, and would have left without saying goodbye if you could have. A letter is not the same.
[Another line crossed out.] Continue reading from megren, 9 treeturn 1017