As the residents of Mornington stood in veneration and watched the rain-clouds slowly accumulate above their village,
Peggy Powler smiled down from her place on the ersatz hillside and wondered what the young boy was thinking as
he stood next to the light-brown-haired girl among the crowd. Jasper Forster flinched as Sarah Goodwin nudged him
affectionately and the lad who'd helped the little Witch capture the Lubber Fiend, probably believed nobody had seen
the fond bump from the girl, but the broadening grin under a certain sorceress' hat stated otherwise.
The lonely boy had left his home and had become entangled in a situation far beyond his imagination and returned a
hero for saving Stanley Tundy's son and the young traveller of Calder's Way. Now beneath the rolling theatre in the sky,
Jasper was reaping a reward that his innocent fantasies had never dared to render.
The subterranean Calcite was doing its work and the big thunderheads undulated and jostled in the late-morning air. The
pre-Autumn sun urged rainbow-hued sun dogs off the burnished bellies of the clouds and the diaphanous surface hinted
at the Sky Mirror's magic. For the Last Witch of Underhill, the phenomena was not only a awe-inspiring sight, but also an
interesting act of nature that offered clues to those who knew what to look for.
"Just so you know..." a freshly-shaven Oliver Horton quipped and leaned back on his elbows, "...this is something beyond
the ability of my workshop and myself" and gazed up at the forming spectacle. If the inventor's repartee amused the little
woman sitting beside him, she didn't show it, her true pleasure came from Jasper dealing with the reality of his secret-love
standing next to him. Noticing Sarah tentatively reaching for the nervous boy's hand, Peggy replied to the man who'd built
the stalled effigy now standing alone in the forest.
"Aye, tis' wonderment that belongs in the hands of our betters" she murmured and noticed the fluctuating reflections above
her were becoming more apparent. The mostly-annual Sky Mirror had arrived in Glaston County and the crowd's sigh of
amazement reflected their welcome of the marvel. Peggy eyed the shapes on the clouds and thought about how she and
the flustered lad below had out-foxed the thing who'd hidden inside the metal man... or to use the Hobgoblin's true name,
the Lob Lie-By-The-Fire.
.................................................................
It would be a stretch to call it a home, but the half-hidden cabin looked at-odds to the little Witch as she and Jasper had
quietly approached the wooden structure that had seen better days. Whoever was inside had lit a fire -which was obvious
from the chimney, and could presumably be awake and vigilant.
The boy had suggested the owner was a loner, someone who avoided contact with the closest community to this bedraggled
out-of-the-way shack. To Peggy, this hinted at a person who cleaved to a particular comportment that might not be altogether
conducive with a large selection of regular folk. Not being asleep in the dead-of-night could be an example of that debatable
manner and the cause of this after-the-sun behaviour intrigued the little Witch even more. Noticing a slight movement at one
of the dirty windows as she concluded her thoughts, the sorceress gripped Jasper's arm and hushered him away to where an
ideal haven waited and a place to gather her thoughts. The tall Ash tree.
.................................................................
"Even with this marvel above us, I cannot let it pass without thanking you once again for rescuing me from the horrible demon
that commandeered my invention..." Oliver said as he spotted a fuzzy shape amongst the Autumn redness displayed above.
With a slight grin, he guessed it was the roof of his workshop being reflected in the Sky Mirror and added "...I suppose we're
always learning and I -for one, had no idea such things existed".
Peggy surveyed the light-show under the clouds and recognised that the forest that encompassed Horton's home and partly
surrounded Mornington had grown into the shape of a bull. Her pedagogue of long ago -Myrddin the Great Wizard, had once
remarked to his young pupil that an ancient race had once created what they'd seen in the sky onto the landscape they lived
on. Clusters of stars that resembled animals they knew and deities they admired, shapes in the sky and their earthly likeness
here in the land. As Above, So Below.
The current summit that the bare-footed Witch and the inventor of the metal man were sitting on characterised a bull's horn
and with it, a signpost of very secret clue to a very secret treasure. A mysterious answer to the question we all ask ourselves,
an inquire that can haunt dreams and bring even the most exalted of kings to their knees. Up there in the strange Sky Mirror
lay a map, a fleeting diagram for a adventurer to undertake for such an answer. All one had to do was interpret where it led
and follow the signs.
Peggy tucked her legs beneath her poncho and smiled at the awestruck crowd down in the village square. The residents of
Mornington will be happy for a while before the rain came and really, isn't that a prize to truly value? "Aye, we're all learnin'
and fur' some of us, it just teks' a while before we get it" the little Witch answered cryptically.
.................................................................
Recalling her schooling from the long-bearded wizard, Peggy made herself comfortable among the branches and checked
to see if Jasper had found an agreeable perch to wait out the night. Her own position was no random act, finding the spongy
canker on the Ash's trunk could be deemed a stroke of luck, but the little Witch knew that such blight was regular on these
types of trees. Producing a dark piece of cloth from her satchel, Peggy went back to what she been taught about this ancient
member of the woods.
What few Magicians still existed, many of them carried wands made of ash and there are a great number of tales regarding
the tree's ability to cure warts and chin-cough. Ashen faggots were burnt to enhance the chances of a good marriage and a
baby's first fingernail pairings buried beneath an Ash tree is a warranty that the child would be a fine singer. For travellers
of the highways, to see an Ash tree growing beside a Sycamore indicated a crossroads lay ahead and with it, the concerns
of a vampire laid to rest at the junction.
Placing the cloth in position to accept the sap-dripping corruption from the lesion in the tree's bark, Peggy reverently mouthed
the words of the rhyme she'd heard Myrddin recite so long ago. "Under this gift, Ah' tek' the oath te' keep wer' bond unsaid.
Esset Peth Fraxin" she said softly and bowed her head to the dioecious donor of the oozing blister. With palms held open to
receive the unusual gift, the molasses-filled dollop slopped onto the cloth and was quickly interred into the Witch's bag.
After watching the metal man become stationary behind the bramble bush, Peggy and Jasper set off down the tree to rid
the bucket-headed kidnapper of its lodger.
Peggy Powler smiled down from her place on the ersatz hillside and wondered what the young boy was thinking as
he stood next to the light-brown-haired girl among the crowd. Jasper Forster flinched as Sarah Goodwin nudged him
affectionately and the lad who'd helped the little Witch capture the Lubber Fiend, probably believed nobody had seen
the fond bump from the girl, but the broadening grin under a certain sorceress' hat stated otherwise.
The lonely boy had left his home and had become entangled in a situation far beyond his imagination and returned a
hero for saving Stanley Tundy's son and the young traveller of Calder's Way. Now beneath the rolling theatre in the sky,
Jasper was reaping a reward that his innocent fantasies had never dared to render.
The subterranean Calcite was doing its work and the big thunderheads undulated and jostled in the late-morning air. The
pre-Autumn sun urged rainbow-hued sun dogs off the burnished bellies of the clouds and the diaphanous surface hinted
at the Sky Mirror's magic. For the Last Witch of Underhill, the phenomena was not only a awe-inspiring sight, but also an
interesting act of nature that offered clues to those who knew what to look for.
"Just so you know..." a freshly-shaven Oliver Horton quipped and leaned back on his elbows, "...this is something beyond
the ability of my workshop and myself" and gazed up at the forming spectacle. If the inventor's repartee amused the little
woman sitting beside him, she didn't show it, her true pleasure came from Jasper dealing with the reality of his secret-love
standing next to him. Noticing Sarah tentatively reaching for the nervous boy's hand, Peggy replied to the man who'd built
the stalled effigy now standing alone in the forest.
"Aye, tis' wonderment that belongs in the hands of our betters" she murmured and noticed the fluctuating reflections above
her were becoming more apparent. The mostly-annual Sky Mirror had arrived in Glaston County and the crowd's sigh of
amazement reflected their welcome of the marvel. Peggy eyed the shapes on the clouds and thought about how she and
the flustered lad below had out-foxed the thing who'd hidden inside the metal man... or to use the Hobgoblin's true name,
the Lob Lie-By-The-Fire.
.................................................................
It would be a stretch to call it a home, but the half-hidden cabin looked at-odds to the little Witch as she and Jasper had
quietly approached the wooden structure that had seen better days. Whoever was inside had lit a fire -which was obvious
from the chimney, and could presumably be awake and vigilant.
The boy had suggested the owner was a loner, someone who avoided contact with the closest community to this bedraggled
out-of-the-way shack. To Peggy, this hinted at a person who cleaved to a particular comportment that might not be altogether
conducive with a large selection of regular folk. Not being asleep in the dead-of-night could be an example of that debatable
manner and the cause of this after-the-sun behaviour intrigued the little Witch even more. Noticing a slight movement at one
of the dirty windows as she concluded her thoughts, the sorceress gripped Jasper's arm and hushered him away to where an
ideal haven waited and a place to gather her thoughts. The tall Ash tree.
.................................................................
"Even with this marvel above us, I cannot let it pass without thanking you once again for rescuing me from the horrible demon
that commandeered my invention..." Oliver said as he spotted a fuzzy shape amongst the Autumn redness displayed above.
With a slight grin, he guessed it was the roof of his workshop being reflected in the Sky Mirror and added "...I suppose we're
always learning and I -for one, had no idea such things existed".
Peggy surveyed the light-show under the clouds and recognised that the forest that encompassed Horton's home and partly
surrounded Mornington had grown into the shape of a bull. Her pedagogue of long ago -Myrddin the Great Wizard, had once
remarked to his young pupil that an ancient race had once created what they'd seen in the sky onto the landscape they lived
on. Clusters of stars that resembled animals they knew and deities they admired, shapes in the sky and their earthly likeness
here in the land. As Above, So Below.
The current summit that the bare-footed Witch and the inventor of the metal man were sitting on characterised a bull's horn
and with it, a signpost of very secret clue to a very secret treasure. A mysterious answer to the question we all ask ourselves,
an inquire that can haunt dreams and bring even the most exalted of kings to their knees. Up there in the strange Sky Mirror
lay a map, a fleeting diagram for a adventurer to undertake for such an answer. All one had to do was interpret where it led
and follow the signs.
Peggy tucked her legs beneath her poncho and smiled at the awestruck crowd down in the village square. The residents of
Mornington will be happy for a while before the rain came and really, isn't that a prize to truly value? "Aye, we're all learnin'
and fur' some of us, it just teks' a while before we get it" the little Witch answered cryptically.
.................................................................
Recalling her schooling from the long-bearded wizard, Peggy made herself comfortable among the branches and checked
to see if Jasper had found an agreeable perch to wait out the night. Her own position was no random act, finding the spongy
canker on the Ash's trunk could be deemed a stroke of luck, but the little Witch knew that such blight was regular on these
types of trees. Producing a dark piece of cloth from her satchel, Peggy went back to what she been taught about this ancient
member of the woods.
What few Magicians still existed, many of them carried wands made of ash and there are a great number of tales regarding
the tree's ability to cure warts and chin-cough. Ashen faggots were burnt to enhance the chances of a good marriage and a
baby's first fingernail pairings buried beneath an Ash tree is a warranty that the child would be a fine singer. For travellers
of the highways, to see an Ash tree growing beside a Sycamore indicated a crossroads lay ahead and with it, the concerns
of a vampire laid to rest at the junction.
Placing the cloth in position to accept the sap-dripping corruption from the lesion in the tree's bark, Peggy reverently mouthed
the words of the rhyme she'd heard Myrddin recite so long ago. "Under this gift, Ah' tek' the oath te' keep wer' bond unsaid.
Esset Peth Fraxin" she said softly and bowed her head to the dioecious donor of the oozing blister. With palms held open to
receive the unusual gift, the molasses-filled dollop slopped onto the cloth and was quickly interred into the Witch's bag.
After watching the metal man become stationary behind the bramble bush, Peggy and Jasper set off down the tree to rid
the bucket-headed kidnapper of its lodger.
Edith Head Gives Good Wardrobe.