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Mr. Thorne’s account began six years earlier, in the latter weeks of autumn. He was quite insistent upon one detail from the start: He had not been lost.

Every Mythkeeper knows not to follow a Gloam Cat. They never lead you where you wish to go.

Many generations ago, Aglitall was cared for solely by the ancestors of the Dryads, alongside the Sorceric people. They were the original inhabitants of the land and together they worked with Tryllery, The Mountain that Conjures, to nurture the magic of the world.

Some things do not grow old because of time. They grow old because of all they have carried.

Inspired by Ötzi’s tinder, or bracket, fungus.

Once upon a time... A maiden occupied the banks of a deep untamed tributary. It was all her own, a gift from her ancestors, and she tended it, and her child-like wonder fed the growth along its banks and the flow within its waters for many years.

Once upon a time... A girl met a boy. This girl, for centuries, had worn a mask to protect herself from persecution by the community, for the community did not take kindly to the girl. At first, the mask was simply that—a way for her to assimilate. Though the mask helped her blend into society, sometimes, something underneath would scratch at the inside of the mask, wishing to be set free from the confinement the mask had created. Over time, however, she ignored the creature

The leaves of the trees in this old forest had only just started to change their colouring and some had begun to fall to the ground. Everyone knows this is the time for ripe fruitful bounty, and on this particular day, one such tomato had gotten too heavy from its massive size for its stem, and had fallen to the ground, ready for the next phase of its being.

“Love I desire, come to me, as is my will, so mote it be.”

"...for the smell thereof makes the heart merrie and joyful and delighteth the senses."

Tulsi was one of the first herbs I loved simply because I enjoyed having it around. When I began experimenting with my own herbal tea preparations, I added it to all sorts of blends. It was intensely aromatic, slightly sweet, and somehow seemed to transform whatever I put it with.

“Sell Your Coat and Buy Betony”

I first met calendula because of a swollen lymph node. I remember sitting with a friend one evening, talking about stress and the strange ways our bodies sometimes carry it. She had developed a swollen lymph node in her neck, and I remembered experiencing something similar myself.

Not long ago, I found myself wandering down one of those research paths that begins with a single question and somehow opens into an entire forest.