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The Witching Hour
Chapter 8: The Midsummer Festival, part 1.

Chapter 8: The Midsummer Festival, part 1.

My work with Lilly lasted until late into the night, with only a minor break for a quick dinner. The others wanted more story time, but since we were on a time limit, it wasn’t like we could stop what we were doing until it was done. And since it was a present for Nettle, they begrudgingly agreed to let me postpone telling, for a short while at any rate.

Once we were done, Lilly left immediately. Midnight padded up behind me and began rubbing against my leg. “Come now, Meowstress, can’t you tell us what that was all about?” I shook my head. “My lips are sealed. You’ll have to wait until the gifting part of the festival like everyone else.” Midnight stopped her rubbing and left with a low growl of annoyance.

The next morning, our preparations for the festival were in full swing, with everyone scattering to grab presents for each other and our friends over in Nettledale. It got so busy I barely found the time to make food for all of us. There was one exception to this, though. Since I was the one packing all the presents, I always knew what I would receive, but everyone was on board with this, since it was inevitable. They tried to get Ivy to help one year, but one of Ivy’s flaws was her inability to keep secrets.

It took her all of thirty minutes to babble about the contents while I was within earshot. It wasn’t on purpose, of course, but the damage was done. After that, the standard order of operations was that I knew beforehand and everyone accepted that. A piece of Amethyst for Ivy, courtesy of some transmutation work. Good thing the ingredients for the transmutation were readily available. There was one issue, however.

“Alright, you three, we have the same problem as always now.” We just finished with dinner and the moment I made the announcement there were the usual groans. “Tobin is impossible to come up with a present for, Mother. I mean, what do you give to someone who has everything, including something to stash it inside?”

A good question indeed. The wine was a common gift, my addition to the festival itself. Such a thing was expected from every family that was taking part. However, that also meant we, once again, didn’t know what to give old Tobin. “You know, Meowstress, I have a suggestion, something that he would be most delighted about.” All of us looked at Midnight. “We all know that Tobin is extremely proud of his long beard. It’s an even greater point of pride for old Brownies like him than Dwarves. So why not give him a magic grooming kit so it can be kept in perfect order?”

That… wasn’t the worst idea ever. More than once we could hear him grumble as he worked himself into a fit while attempting to trim the last bit of renegade beard hair for the day. It wouldn’t be too difficult to make, either, with my ready access to the needed tools and years of practice. “Anyone against the idea?” Dead silence. “Alright, grooming kit it is. As for Lilly, anyone got ideas for a twist this year, or are we giving her the usual?”

Winter flew up and landed on my shoulder. “Well, instead of giving her a jar of jam this year, how about we give her a jar of honey? I mean, she really likes it, and it would be something different, if similar.” Well, that wasn’t a bad idea at all. “Sounds good to me. Do you two have any complaints about that?” Soot and Midnight shook their heads. “Not at all, Meowstress. Good idea, Winter.” Soot took off and landed next to winter, giving her an affectionate little snuggle. “I think it’s a great idea.”

Winter gave a happy hoot and began snuggling back. “Alright, you two, I don’t mind your behavior, but my shoulder is getting crowded.” I gently shooed them off my shoulder. I didn’t want to interrupt their snuggling, as it was adorable. However, to have enough space for both Winter and Soot, I didn’t have a choice but to push my head away from the two. The two returned to the table and resumed their snuggling there.

With the preparations going as fast as they could, time passed quickly. And before we knew it, the midsummer festival was upon us. “Alright, presents, check. Wine, check. Gifts, check. Familiars…” “I am ready, Mistress.” “Same here, Meowstress.” “Let’s go, Mother.” Alright then. I took off and headed northwest into the forest. The early morning mist gave the forest a mysterious look as we flew above the trees.

I could see the telltale signs of their eagerness. Midnight was sitting on the tip of my broom, eagerly looking forward, while both Winter and Soot were flying beside me as their own anticipation was making them restless. As we went deeper into the forest, the trees grew bigger and the glades were less frequent. However, this worked to our advantage, as that made it easier to find Nettledale.

“There it is, Mother, I can see it!” Not that hard, really, as the absolutely massive Iron Oak that Nettledale was beneath was a dead giveaway because it was covered in lanterns and ribbons for the occasion. The tree was so big it would dwarf even Redwoods. Nettledale covered the clearing around the tree, the trunk, and even the boughs of the tree itself. And was one of the largest Pixie villages on the continent if Ivy was to be believed.

Then again, seeing as no humans bothered Nettledale much these days, between me and Nettle both working as deterrents for such actions and the size of the place itself, I wouldn’t be surprised if Ivy was right. As I landed at the edge of the clearing, a swarm of lights rose to greet us, with various pixies wanting to say hello.

About ten minutes later, they dispersed having grown bored with just chatting with us, even more so once they realized there would be no sweet handouts. I tried that once, never again. Pixies hopped up on sugar were a nightmare, so everything I gave to them always contained the minimum amount possible.

Once they dispersed, I felt a pull on my robe. I looked down. “Ah, Tobin, good to see you.” Standing at about half my height, Tobin was actually rather tall for his kin. His bark-brown gnarled skin was barely visible behind his well-groomed, grey beard, which reached down to his toes. He wore his customary maroon cap and dressed in simple grey linen clothes. He was wearing a well-made viridian belt, though, a gift from a previous festival.

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He grinned up at me even as he fetched a pipe from a pocket hidden behind his beard. “Oh, likewise, kiddo. Damn shame there won’t be any mead this year, but I heard from a little green mischief-maker that there might be one last bottle of a certain fabled vintage…” I couldn’t help but grin at that. “While I wouldn’t call it fabled, the bottle will make its appearance during the festivities tonight Tobin, have no fear. But until then, I am afraid you have to remain sober.”

The brownie chuckled at my poke about his eagerness for alcohol. "Well, the festival’s saved, far as I am concerned. With such a fine addition, it will outshine everything else, unless his lord and her ladyship pull out all the stops this year." His smile faded somewhat at the mention of the Fae rulers.

“Oh, they’ll be attending this year?” He nodded. “Got a last-minute mention of it. No doubt the news of a last bottle of ARC 358 strawberry wine showing up was the trigger. You’re underestimating how popular that vintage was, kid.” I might have. Good thing I used alchemy to make more of the wine then. Tobin studied me for a moment. “Wait, I know that expression. What are you not telling me?” I looked around before I bent down so no one else could hear me. “I may have duplicated the bottle and its content with alchemy, to have more for later.”

Tobin’s face lit up like a certain cat that got the cream. “That secret’s safe with me. Make no mistake, I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” That was overkill. A fey creature’s word was already guarantee enough, but going so far as to outright making a promise was a guarantee beyond all doubt.

If the fey in question broke their word, they would face dire repercussions because of the fey’s laws. However, if they broke it after they made a promise, it was a death sentence on the spot. Their own promise would kill them, with no judgment required. Which is why the fey were cautious with making promises.

I could remember such an event happening once, and it was not pretty. The fey in question were saved because they were released from their promise by the one they gave it to before they died, but they were in a terrible state afterward. It took months of being bedridden without the ability to do anything before recovery was possible. And they never fully recovered.

I pushed the grim thoughts away. This was a day for merriment, not grim and gloomy thoughts. “There’s no need to go that far, Tobin. I won’t hold you to that promise. Sure, I’d be disappointed, if you told someone, but I won’t hold you to it.” I gave him a pat on the shoulder and a friendly smile as I rose to my full height again. “Now then, we should both go about enjoying the day, rather than just staying here being all secrets and conspiracies. See you later!”

Tobin gave me a good-natured chuckle as I walked away, before he simply vanished with a small ‘plop’ sound. I would love to use such magic myself, as it seemed quite useful. However, my house worked as a giant teleportation ward. Unless it was specifically summoned into my house’s teleportation circle by someone inside the house, the house would put a hard stop to teleportation attempts within a kilometer of its location. It was what pulled Soot and his former master out of their teleport. Not that we knew that back then. In fact, I didn’t learn that until I began dabbling in teleportation magic myself.

“Quite a delightful morning…” “… Isn’t it Lady Morgana?” I knew those voices well enough, even as they seemed to come from all around me. “Greetings, your highnesses, it’s indeed quite pleasant. I will admit, though, I didn’t expect the two of you would arrive so early.” I didn’t bother to look around, as they were using magic to speak to me. “Oh, we are not…” “… There yet, Lady Morgana.” “We are simply…” “… Greeting our honorary noble…” “… This pleasant…” “… Midsummer morning.”

“I see. Well, I do hope that you have a pleasant morning as well, and I will see you both tonight, no doubt.” There was no response. I couldn’t help but take a deep breath to steady myself, though. Over a century and the two still give me chills. I pushed the thought away as I entered the festival square.

Several tables of all sizes were scattered around, with colorful magical borders showing everyone where you were expected to walk so that you wouldn’t step on the tables of the small folk or any of the houses. Most of the houses were magical toadstools, that grew into houses for the pixies. One of the few exceptions was the stump that served as Tobins house. The Brownie could alter his own size at will, so he could be as small as a Pixie or as tall as a Giant.

The inside of Tobin’s house was well maintained and furnished beautifully, thanks to the Brownie’s skill with woodworking. In fact, all the houses in Nettledale used his furniture. The square itself was full of different Fey, and other Old races, like Fauns, Goblins and everything in between. A few Treants were enjoying the festivities along the edges of the square. As I was looking around, I bumped into someone. “Oh, sorry I, well now that’s a surprise.” I looked at the elf that I bumped into.

The elf in question dusted off his cloak. “I apologize for my tardiness, miss - Oh. Lady Morgana what a pleasant surprise indeed.” Polite, as always, that one. “So, Aurlin, taking the trip all the way from the old woods for the festival, and without the aid of the highnesses at that, you must have left, what… a week ago?” The elf bowed his head slightly. “Two weeks, to be certain I wouldn’t miss it, or the sight of you, oh beautiful moon flower.”

I suppressed the urge to groan. “Aurlin, grow up, you stupid brat. You’re not even past your first century yet. And I’ve already made it clear I’m not interested.” He gave an overly dramatic sigh. “Oh, how your words wound me.” Then he shot me a mischievous grin. “Can’t fault a boy from trying to woo his first crush, now, can you? In all seriousness, though, Milady. I have already found someone more age… appropriate. I will introduce you to one another later, as we seem to have gotten separated.” He gave me a quick wave, then disappeared back into the crowd.

“That brat’s going to get himself into trouble if he keeps doing that.” I looked over my shoulder at the speaker. “I agree with you there, Lady Nettle. Even more so since he apparently has found someone willing to put up with his antics. That aside, how is the day treating you?” Nettle flitted into view, now wearing an elaborate purple dress made from spider silk. “It’s well enough, so far. Unfortunately, Lilly got dragged into a lengthy conversation with one of the treant dignitaries, so I am currently looking for a way to rescue her from them.”

She shot me a hopeful glance. “You are in luck. You can tell her that Lady Morgana wishes to speak to her regarding Lady Nettle’s, yes, your midsummer present. Surely, the Treants wouldn’t refuse her parting ways with them over such an important topic. I will be enjoying a spot of tea at the Curling Bramble’s outdoor area, so you can send her that way.” Nettle shot me a grateful glance and flew off to fetch Lilly, as I headed towards the Curling Bramble.