Collection: Home Cauldron

”So Mirabel, have you ever been to Rowanill before?” Erika asks and glances over to Mirabel. “No, never. I have to say I’m quite excited!” Mirabel responds gleefully. “Well, you’re in luck then as the caravan market just so happens to be in the town today!” Erika responds with a smile. “Lots of travelers come here often?” Mirabel asks. Erika lowers her gaze, and her voice shifts into a subtle but still noticeable solemn tone: “Well, not as many as I heard used to. The thick woods make travel difficult and risky for large caravans. But I think many still avoid the place because of its, well, history.” The two women approach the town gates. Beautifully crafted rich woodwork embellishes the stone structures. Bright red trims with splashes of white paint frame the gate and the 10-meter stone watchtower. But despite the quality of the tower, its brother lies crumbled, barely holding the gate together and it too only barely held together by makeshift scaffolding. Two guards stand under the gate in colors similar to the trimmed gate bridge and inside the gates, a stableboy is harnessing a three horned kaurin stallion ready for travel. There is a text box which reads: “At the time I didn’t know of the events that took place in Rowanill during the Avelonian civil war, though it was clear from the first glance that even decades later the place hadn’t fully let go of that night.”

Mirabel and Erika are walking on a quiet forest path. In front of a large old oak is a sun scorched post with a sign that reads Rowanill. ”So Erika, how long have you lived here?” Mirabel asks. “Around four years. My mentor had a summer retreat here which he sold to me after my apprenticeship”, Erika responds. “I take it you are not around these parts then?” Mirabel adds in which Erika responds “No, I’m from Vinen.” Mirabel’s ears zap up in excitement and her eyes glow up. “No way! Across the sea?” she shouts. “I’ve always wanted to see the golden prairies, the endless vineyards, the coastal cities! It all must be amazing!” she says enthusiastically before her excitement fades. “But why would you come here out of all places? It’s not like Avelon is a great place for witches.” Mirabel then asks. Erika smiles. “Oh, Vinen is lovely in its own way for sure! But when I came here for the first time, I just fell in love with this place. There is just something about the atmosphere, the seasons, all this!” she says and gestures around her. The old stone bridge crosses a blue stream and all around them greenery new and old surrounding them in multitude, all bathing in the golden rays of sunrise.
Mirabel snaps out of her thoughts with a tear dripping down her cheeks as she looks towards the sound. She smiles and wipes away the tears. “Coming!” she yells. Mirabel opens the door, the soft morning light illuminating her and her nightgown, one barely posed in a way to cover her body. “Good morning, Erika!” she says as she sees her friend waiting for her. “Good morning, Mirabel” Erika responds, her emerald locks glistening in the light. “Are you ready to g- I- ummm…” she says, but her words get tangled up as she sees Mirabel. She shyly looks away. “Sorry I didn’t realize you were still getting dressed!” she says. Mirabel’s head tilts. “Still getting dressed? What do you me-“ she says in a confused tone but as she looks down on her apparel, it is not her usual robes but her nightgown. She screams in embarrassment and slams the door behind her. “Oh my god I’m sorry be right back!” she yells. Erika chuckles “Heh, no rush! I’ll wait here.”
Mirabel flips through the pages of the newspaper. “As I said, I didn’t have any concrete plans for what to do. I just thought to myself: I’ll figure it out as I go. But in reality, I just didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to stop and face the whispers lurking in my head. I always felt like a misfit. Like a piece of a puzzle that had been put into the wrong box. Never finding its place.” She looks at the job offerings of Rowanill. refurbisher, act illusionist, stable hand. “I’m not really good at that, I’m not a cognizance witch, definitely not interested in cleaning manure…” she thinks to herself as she reaches the end. She leans back to her chair, looking down at the paper. “I was told in the orphanage that the best medicine for feeling down was to smile. A smile makes the gloom go away they always said. So, I did. I smiled. But sometimes I felt like the smile was beginning to wear out…” Her jaw jitters. “What if I couldn’t carry my weight? What if I was meant to be a failure? A pathetic excuse of a wit- “. Her thoughts are interrupted by a voice outside. “Mirabel! Are you awake yet?” Erika yells.
”Huh?” Mirabel turns around after a thump coming from outdoors. “What was that?” She opens Home Cauldron’s front door to the early morning sun and looks down. “A newspaper?” She scans the view down the road and around the yard, but no-one is there. She looks up and her gaze is caught on a figure in the sky. An aven courier. His earthy plumes and bright tunic, otherwise tightly wrapped around him, has a strand of a ribbon floating in the wind. His carrier bag swinging loosely behind him with letters poking through as he waves at Mirabel. Mirabel waves back from the ground and heads back inside tossing the paper on the kitchen table. “I didn’t order anything… I hope I don’t have to pay for this” she thinks to herself. Front page of the Harima Journal has a large headline: “CARAVAN RAIDS ON RISE! Traders and travelers on high alert”.
"AAAAH!" The screams echo in the small round upstairs bedroom as Mirabel jolts up. The tranquillity of early morning light fills the room with a soft haze as Mirabel sits up, holding her violet blanket close to her chest. "Ugh... What a horrible nightmare. Crazy how real that all felt." she says to herself as the dream lets go of her thoughts. She gets out of her bed. Her paws digging into the warmth of her blanket that rests halfway to the floor. “Gods how early is it?” she says, still dazed by the abruptness of her awakening. “I could’ve sworn I slept way past our trip to Rowanill.” She gets up from her bed and grabs her thin indigo nightgown. “Well, I might as well get up now. Erika did say she’s a morning person.” She says as she slips on the silky soft robe barely long enough to rest on her backside. “Me? Not so much. But at least I had made sure last night to have my coffee pot ready for the morning” the text box says as she is holding up a floral-patterned blue porcelain mug with white stalks and light pink flowers. The steam of freshly brewed coffee floating in the air with an aroma familiar to her.
The world turns white as the light envelops Mirabel. "That was the first time I saw the dream of the sky in flames."
Mirabel looks to the crimson sky. Flames engulf the sky painting the oily black horizon into vivid oranges and reds. Against the blinding light of the sea of flames, three bright stars shine through and among them an hole dark like the void devouring a moon.
"Mirabel..." The strange voice grows louder. Crackles spark under her feet as her claws dig into a marble floor under a thin layer of water. Like oil it glitters against the endless backdrop of a starlit sky. Countless rows of marble walkways and statues, litter the landscape in physically impossible orientations. "Who goes there?!" Mirabel yells as she turns around to the direction of the voice. The voice responds in the same calm and soft tone: "Come..." Mirabel's agitation quickly turns into confusion and dread, as she turns around. Her bright purple eyes reflecting the flames. "Wh- What?!" She yelps out in terror.
In the pitch black darkness, there is a soft sound calling her name: "Mirabel..."