thesundowncrew

[thesundowncrew]

"Mhhm~ Mhhm~" Ophelia hummed and nodded along, listening intently to Nettie explain about the headstones she knew. She did not know that 'Mam' and 'Tad' or what the other words meant specifically but she guessed they were terms for her family members. Human languages were just as diverse and many as the fae after all and there were still plenty Ophelia was not familiar with.

Sow'in had explained to Ophelia that while the children had been taken care of by guardians previously (the ones who perished when they barely escaped capture), Nettie was in fact not an orphan but did not divulge any more details than that. Despite how much curiosity burned within her, she knew it was best not to bring up topics of the past unless the children brought it up first. Or unless it was absolutely necessary.

They walked the trail, both of them giggling when their paper crane chaperones fluttered and flitted about them. Sometimes they flew ahead of them before turning back and circling them again. One (the one that Nettie pointed out was hers) stayed perched on her shoulder, semi-buried under her wild, red curls.

Ophelia still had her cloak around her shoulders. This morning was not as chilly as previous days, but if the wind blew against one's chest it would certainly sting. But the skies were clear and despite the thin layer of fog, one could see the morning sun just peeking out past the clouds and giving them some much needed warmth. Ophelia was right; the weather was perfect for a walk outdoors.

“This one is all alone. It hasn’t got any other stones.” Ophelia noticed Nettie's tone had changed slightly. She looked down and their eyes met, Nettie looking up at her with a sorrowful expression in her sky-blue eyes. “Do you think it’s lonely?”

The faerie smiled back warmly. "Hmm I'm not sure," she said, giving it some thought. "Just because something looks like its all by itself doesn't mean its lonely."

"What about you, Nettie?" They stopped momentarily when she noticed the fallen branch in the way of the trail. She gestured to the child to hold onto her hand as she playfully lifted her up and over the obstacle, as if she weighed nothing at all. "Why do you think its lonely?" Ophelia asked instead, seamlessly continuing their conversation on their peaceful walk towards the meadow.

Atop the study table, the faestone didn’t appear to affect Bran much. He remained asleep beneath the blankets, his breathing still shallow and still with a quiet rasp to it, but much calmer than before. His fever refused to relent entirely but it had dropped from boiling to a low simmer. His tears had dried.

A faint frown lingered, his forehead creased slightly. A common expression for him when he was awake as well. His dreams troubled him as usual. Even so, it was a vast improvement from past nightmares.

It seemed Sow'in needed rest just as much as him.

—

Sow'in had let Nettie teach him how to fold cranes, and now Ophelia asked for guidance in finding the foggy meadow with the stone. Nettie beamed and nodded, thrilled for another chance to help.

“It’s a headstone,” she explained as she began to lead the way, still holding Ophelia’s hand. “Mam and Tad showed me ones for Nain and Taid.” Mother and father; Grandmother and grandfather. Nettie’s tone stayed light. “They said the stones are so we don’t forget them. Their stones are together ‘cause they loved each other. There were lots of other stones there too, but I don’t know who those belonged to.”

Dragonflies had accompanied Nettie on her last journey to the meadow. She smiled when she saw their paper companions this time, though her smile faded as her mind returned to the headstone. “This one is all alone. It hasn’t got any other stones.” She frowned, brow creasing, and looked up at Ophelia with sorrow in her eyes (still walking, of course, and in danger of tripping on a fallen branch if her gaze stayed off the path). “Do you think it’s lonely?”

[thesundowncrew]

[thesundowncrew]

Suddenly the two were gone and Sow'in was left in an empty den; faestone in hand and feeling absolutely drained. He groaned, wondering why he always felt that way whenever Ophelia visited.

Before retiring to his quarters, he visited the sleeping Bran and placed the faestone ring on the study table. He did so to observe if the fae object being near the boy would have any effect on him as opposed to wearing it on his person. If anyone argued he also did so because he did not want to wake the boy after his chaotic fever spell, he would not deny it was a valid reason either.

Ivory claws brushed the hair from the boy's eyes ever so gently, giving Sow'in a clear view of his sleeping expression, before finally leaving him be.

Back in his room, Sow'in removed his cloak and practically collapsed into his bed. He instructed Sundown to wake him if Bran showed signs of waking or if the two ladies returned; whichever came first. For now, he wanted to rest his eyes and weary bones and enjoy the peace and quiet while he could.

—

“I love it a lot!” Nettie's bright smile and newfound excitement continued to echo in Ophelia's head, replaying the moment she accepted her gift over and over and causing her to giggle every time. Oh, Ophelia simply adored her and she knew perfectly well the kind of affect she had on the human child. Oh yes, the child liked her very much. She might even be presumptuous to say the child loved her and trusted her all too easily. Ophelia knew this wouldn't do. They would have to sit down and discuss about this very soon.

As they left, a few paper cranes flew after them and accompanied them on their walk. Obviously they were used to keep an eye on them and to report to their master should anything go awry. Ophelia recognized the magickal handiwork and thought it cute, having paper foldings as their chaperones.

“I picked some a while ago, down there—” Nettie answered her question, pointing to a trail not far from the ghoul's home. Ophelia was familiar with it but had no idea what lied at the end of the trail; she'd never been down it before. “I gave them to the stone. It had flowers already, but they’d gotten dry and sad.”

"A stone? How amusing! What kind of stone?" Ophelia asked, her pointed ears moving up and down curiously. The faerie already had an inkling as to what Nettie could be referring to but now that her interest had been piqued, she just had to know more. There was still so much she did not know about the ghoul after all; an unmarked grave so close to his home being one of them. "Could you show me? I'd love to see!"

Ophelia liked the gift. She called it beautiful. The remnants of Nettie’s sadness melted like snow under the sun as pride warmed her chest, and a smile flitted across her flushed face, shy but genuine.

And… Ophelia had a gift for Nettie in return. Surprise and curiosity brightened Nettie’s expression even more. Ophelia unclasped a bracelet from her wrist and placed it on Nettie’s wrist instead, and it shrank to the perfect size. With another soft gasp, Nettie lifted her hand to admire the bracelet closer. A chain of tiny metal daisies. “Pretty…” she murmured.

A mark of our newfound friendship. Pure delight rushed through Nettie, and she looked up to meet Ophelia’s golden gaze, blue eyes shining with more wonder than ever before. Friends with a faerie. She nodded, stunned into silence before she found her voice again. “Mm-hm.” Still soft at first, then brighter as she beamed at Ophelia. “Mm-hm! I love it a lot!” She truly did. Her excitement bubbled so much that she couldn’t help bouncing on her feet lightly.

Her admiration for the faerie meant some shyness remained, but with the bracelet confirming their friendship, she gained confidence. She pointed out the fluttering paper cranes and explained how she’d taught Sow'in to fold them after Sow'in helped her read. Timidly, she took Ophelia’s hand — as well as she could manage with her own small hand — and led the faerie to the den, to the tall bookshelf where her current favorite crane (spring green and patterned with tiny daisies of its own) liked hiding. Ophelia’s height meant she could spot it easily between two books. Nettie was overjoyed when Ophelia scooped her up so she could see as well.

Sow'in appeared. Nettie grew quiet, but Ophelia’s closeness comforted the child so much that her earlier nervousness around the ghoul faded.

She leaned her head against Ophelia as the adults spoke. At first, she tried to listen, wanting to learn if Bran felt better. A frown crossed her face when Sow'in said otherwise. A ring glimmered into Sow'in’s ivory palm, something about a stone, moss… Nettie’s thoughts swam. Drowsy, she bit her lip and fiddled with the slender bracelet on her wrist, glancing up at the faerie’s face for guidance. Don’t you agree? Nettie nodded, knowing she agreed with Ophelia even though she’d lost track of the subject entirely.

Her uncertainty eased as soon as she realized Ophelia intended to bring her outside. Once Ophelia placed her on the floor, Nettie took her hand again (without hesitation this time) and glanced back at Sow'in to give a timid wave goodbye with her free hand before she and Ophelia left the treehouse.

The fresh air renewed the child’s energy. Nettie hummed and smiled up at Ophelia, grateful that she could understand the faerie’s words again. Sunlight danced among the fluffy red curls of her hair.

Had she walked the rest of the isle yet? Nettie shook her head. At the mention of flowers, she nodded eagerly. “I picked some a while ago, down there—” She pointed to the trail that led to the meadow with the headstone. “I gave them to the stone. It had flowers already, but they’d gotten dry and sad.”

[thesundowncrew]

𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍

First post of the year & it was the first idea that came to mind - spooky Sammy 😳 My new years resolution is to draw/sketch whatever idea comes to me rather than write it down & "draw it later" cus lets face it, I never do!!!! Lets see how that goes~

[thesundowncrew]

"Oh! For me?" Ophelia's ears perked up the moment she heard it, a delighted smile on her plum-colored lips. "Oh my, how splendid! It is beautiful and I do love beautiful things~ I accept!" She looked over the picture warmly, already coming up with ways of how to frame it and where to hang it back home. "A gift this wonderful must be repaid in kind~ Fortunately I already have a gift ready for you!"

From one of Ophelia's wrists hung a gold chain, its metal crafted to look like tiny daisies tied together by their vines. She unclasped it and placed it around Nettie's own wrist - to which it magically changed its length to suit the wearer's hand. It was loose enough that it dangled but not enough to slip off the child's tiny form. It was a fine piece of jewelry but not because of its craftsmanship or its valuable metal.

"Daisies are a symbol of friendship and everlasting bonds. I would like you to have this, lovely Nettie, as a mark of our newfound friendship. Whosoever sees this chain around your wrist will know that you are a friend of Lady Ophelia~" explained the faerie, her golden eyes glittering. "Do you like it?"

—

Bran drank it all and the effects were almost immediate. The pain withdrew and his eyes fluttered closed. The flush of his tear-stained cheeks began to fade along with his fever. Sow'in laid Bran down to rest and stayed by his side for a while to measure his breathing. Finally, the boy had settled down and was fast asleep.

Sow'in couldn't help but replay that moment when Bran grabbed his arm. The fear in his eyes, the desperate gasps of air. How he could almost hear his heart beating against the innards of his chest. All too familiar expressions to the ghoul, yet he found it difficult to look away. He pressed his forehead to Bran's one last time before tucking him under the covers and leaving him be.

"Ah leave him in your care... old friend." Sundown replied as a breeze blowing past with whispers only for the ghoul alone to hear.

—

He was surprised to find Ophelia carrying Nettie in her arms in the middle of the den. She spotted him as he glided down the stairs and greeted him with her usual cheer. "Oh hello, Lord Sow'in! And how are you faring this morning~?"

"Good morning, Lady Ophelia," sighed the ghoul, pinching the bridge of his nose. "..Ah've had.. better days. But ah admit, ah've also had worse."

He looked up at Nettie for just a second. The child looked calm in the faerie's arms and Ophelia looked like she didn't mind the arrangement one bit. Sow'in turned his focus back to the faerie. "I must offer apologies on behalf of Bran. He is in no state to greet you this morning an' ah suspect he will be unwell for the rest of the day-"

"Ah! I had a feeling that was the case~ Which is why I brought this for you, Lord Sow'in!" Ophelia held out a closed fist. When the ghoul held out his ivory claw to receive the item, she dropped a ring with a glittering amber stone in its center. "May it help you with your troubles!"

"This is... a faestone?"

"Yes! It doesn't have any extraordinary properties in particular but I thought having something from the realm on his person would help lessen the damage, hm?"

"..You knew this would happen." Sow'in's tone suggested he was more intrigued by Ophelia's gesture than surprised.

"Honestly, I was surprised it didn't happen earlier - but you can thank the moss agate for that," said the faerie, referring to the ring she'd noticed on Bran's hand the first time she met them. "I'm sure you're aware by now that while the moss agate helps to some extent, there's not much it can do against the worst of his symptoms."

"What exactly are these the sy-" "And of course, I can't say for certain what such symptoms are, or whether or not they are what I think they are, unless we observe him for, oh I don't know, maybe another hour or two? Just so we can be sure? It's so easy to confuse these things with another. And when trying to help someone feel better, we should be sure about these things - don't you agree, Nettie?" She turned to the little girl in her arms, smiling gently.

It was then Sow'in understood that Ophelia thought it best not to discuss it when Nettie was present. The ghoul wouldn't have thought much of it but Ophelia definitely didn't want to cause the child any more distress if she could help it.

"..Yes. We'll observe him for now." Before the ghoul could suggest anything else, Ophelia spoke up once more. "In the meantime, Nettie and I will take a walk! Get some fresh air and explore Sundown for a while! I still have some gifts to share with you so shall we reconvene later in the day, Lord Sow'in?"

The ghoul looked pressed but he couldn't find it in himself to turn down Lady Ophelia's proposition. He was now so very curious about Bran's condition and how it was more complex than what he first presumed it to be. Since Lady Ophelia was the best source of knowledge they had at hand, he would have to be patient if he wanted to get his answers.

"..Of course, Lady Ophelia," he bid her with a slight bow of his head and a clawed hand on his chest. "Sundown would be pleased to have you walk its grounds. We shall.. speak more of this when you return."

Ophelia, with a large smile on her face, placed Nettie down and was already leading her out of the treehouse by the hand. "Come, Nettie! Lord Sow'in will take good care of Bran, not to worry. The weather is gorgeous today! Have you walked the rest of the isle yet? Perhaps we should even pick some flowers to put in your room, hm? Wouldn't that be nice?"

If Bran hadn’t been sick, his embarrassment would have burned fiercer than any fever by now. In his current state, his mind smothered such feelings so his body could focus on surviving. Emotions reached him from someplace distant and detached, like they belonged to someone other than himself.

Fear could always reach him, though. Especially the fear of being helpless, captured, trapped.

When Sow'in pulled him into the crook of his arm, Bran’s breath hitched and his eyes flew open, his gaze bright as panic cut through the fog. He gripped Sow'in’s arm tightly enough for his knuckles to turn white. The pain in his chest worsened as his heart raced. His strength failed a moment later, and his grasp loosened, his body going limp once more.

Sow'in told him to drink. Bran obeyed. Obedience was always safest; he knew this by heart.

The ghoul lay him flat again. At some point, without the boy realizing, tears had begun tracing silent paths down cheeks already damp with sweat. When he turned his head to hide his face from Sow'in on instinct, they left small dark spots on the pillow.

The last thought that crossed Bran’s mind before he lost consciousness was that he wanted to go home, even though he no longer knew where home was.

—

Oh, how Nettie had longed for such a comforting hug. Relief washed over her as she melted into the embrace, small hands gripping tight. With each shaky breath between sobs, Ophelia’s sweet scent soothed the child, and her gentle touch eased the horrible boulder of fear and guilt in her stomach.

Crying blurred Nettie’s vision, but as the faerie’s gentle voice washed away her worries, she calmed enough to glimpse how the wavy reds and golds of Ophelia’s hair surrounded her. Like the glow of a sunrise over an autumn meadow. She inhaled softly in awe and blinked away tears to see better.

The swoosh of paper reached her ears, and Nettie looked to see her drawing fly toward them. Such a simple trick and yet it captured the child’s attention easily. Nettie shook her head and rubbed her eyes with one hand, the other hand still latched onto Ophelia’s sleeve. A slight tremble lingered in her words. “Umm… no. It’s for you.” A meadow filled with vibrant flowers, mostly deep purples and reds and oranges that had reminded the child of Ophelia.

“I do want him to feel better,” Nettie added quickly, as though Bran would get sicker if she didn’t wish for his recovery aloud. Sincerity steadied her voice. In fact, she had barely resisted the urge to color him a feel-better drawing as well. “But he said, um, he’s run out of room for drawings, ‘cause I gave him lots.”

[thesundowncrew]

Happy Valentines Day! Here's a super short super sweet comic for ya 💖

PS. Percy is short for Percival 🐍♥️🕶️

And yes, these two belong in the Tales of Sundown universe ;) This wont be the last time you see them!

[thesundowncrew]

Adorable kawaii frog bag <3 <3

[thesundowncrew]

"Oh dear, oh dear~" the faerie hummed as Nettie practically crashed into her. She was so tiny, Nettie was only able to hug her legs. The faerie knelt down and pulled the child into a tight embrace. She was so warm and soft, and held Nettie with just the right amount of pressure. Ophelia's hair was so long and smelled so sweet, it pooled all around them in a mess of reds and gold as if they were surrounded by a patch of flowers beneath a sunset.

"There, there, little darling. There, there. Let it all out." She stroked the child's hair and rubbed circles on her back as she wept. Ophelia had no idea who Maude was but guessed it must have been her guardian that Sow'in mentioned before.

Perhaps a distraction would do some good. Ophelia noticed Nettie had been drawing something; the piece left behind on the kitchen table. With a flick of her finger, the drawing tugged and slipped perfectly into her hand. "Oho, what's this? Were you drawing something for Bran, perhaps? A gift to make him feel better?"

—

Back upstairs, Sow'in had decided that the best way to ensure Bran sat up long enough to drink the concoction down was to sit him upright and lean him against his own body. Sow'in had no qualms with such close physical contact with another and thought it was nothing to fuss about, deeming it absolutely necessary and practical. But anyone else watching would admit it was still an awkward position for them both.

The ghoul sat against the headboard and, as gently as he could, pulled Bran up into a semi-cradle position. While Bran laid defenseless in the crook of one ivory arm (sharp claws and all), the other fed him the bitter medicine. "This will help with the pain an' fever. Drink." At the first sign of reluctance, the ghoul reminded "Dun' make me ask you twice."

Sow'in felt the Lady Ophelia's presence the moment she set foot in Sundown, and knew she was taking care of Nettie downstairs. As soon as the boy settled down, Sow'in would leave him to rest and consult the fae on Bran's condition. Suffice to say, the piece lodged inside of the boy could not be tempered with something as simple as a magickal artefact. It wasn't the matter of how strong the artefact was either; it was a matter of the source.

The ghoul was a master of the arcane arts but the source of his magick came from spirit energy. Fae magick was something different entirely from spirit magick. Like oil and water, the two types of magick could work alongside each other but at their core, the two magicks could not mix - at least not without devastating consequences. Now that Bran, at his core, shared characteristics of the fae piece, he could no longer use or be surrounded by spirit magick painlessly. Alas, that was the extent of Sow'in's knowledge when it came to fae magick. Since he himself could not wield it, everything else he knew, or was at least aware of, was in theory.

Fortunately for them, Lady Ophelia had taken a liking to the children and was more than willing to lend her expertise.

Bran processed Sow'in’s presence more than his words. Just leave me alone, the boy begged silently. He wanted to stay there, curled in the muffled dark beneath the blankets, until the torment stopped on its own. Surely it wouldn’t last much longer. He didn’t need help; he’d already burdened Sow'in enough.

The blankets slid off him. He shivered and turned his damp face toward the mattress — away from Sow'in and away from the light the blanket had shielded him from. His knees folded closer to his chest as though trying to fold him from existence entirely or into a better hiding place where no one would find him.

Sow'in wouldn’t leave him alone, it seemed. Bran gritted his teeth, eyes squeezed shut, and resolved to at least keep from passing out again. One fainting spell in front of the ghoul within the last day was bad enough; Bran would need to dig himself a hole and hide there forever if he fainted a second time.

He didn’t faint, as far as he could tell, but his sense of time wavered as though ink blotted his perception. One moment Sow'in had reached for him; the next moment he lay on his back, dizzy and with a ghostly sensation of feeling cold ivory on feverish skin. The ache in his chest stole most of his attention.

Sow'in pressed his forehead against his. Faint surprise stirred in Bran, but he barely tensed at all. The ghoul moved from his narrow line of sight and Bran lost track of him instantly. Fuzzy darkness floated across his vision. Bran closed his eyes against it and took a shuddering breath. “I… I’m fine. Don’t worry.” Escaping into sleep sounded like the best option now. If only his head would stop pounding and his lungs would let him breathe properly.

—

Ophelia had arrived.

She looked just as much like a princess as before. Nettie gaped at her in wonder from the kitchen table, grasping a purple crayon above a colorful drawing of a meadow. The faerie’s words were so gentle, so warm and comforting and kind. Water welled in the child’s eyes. The crayon slipped from her hand.

She burst into tears again. Without a moment’s hesitation, she slid from the chair, nearly tripping in her rush, and ran to Ophelia to hug her. “Bran’s sick,” she wept into Ophelia’s gown. “And- and he told me not to tell, but I told, and I miss Maude, and-”

[thesundowncrew]

[thesundowncrew]

𝕽𝖔𝖆𝖉 𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖕...⛧

[thesundowncrew]

please bro beat the shit out of me I need it for enrichment

[thesundowncrew]

Before entering the bedroom, it dawned on Sow'in that he was responsible for Bran's condition. He should have realized sooner that the boy - with his already poor constitution - should not have been out in the cold so late at night. The ghoul rarely felt angry with himself and it was usually when he made simple oversights such as these that really irked him. He would not repeat such mistakes in future; he would make sure of it.

But then upon entering, he realized something else. The piece inside Bran, assumedly contained by the mossy agate ring, was flaring up like a wildfire. It was a blazing energy, much too large and chaotic for a body as small and human as Bran's to handle. It was more than just a piece of fae realm reacting to the surrounding magic; it was rejecting his entire being. It was a piece that should not have been but here it was, stuck in a changeling that was not. Yet another oversight on Sow'in's part, and he couldn't help but hiss at the admission.

“I’m sorry.”

Bran's voice was small and muffled but it broke through Sow'in's thoughts well enough. "You say that," he hummed in response. "An' yet, ah'm not sure you know what you're apologizing for." Calmly and slowly, as to not alarm the boy, Sow'in pulled back the covers to see the extent of Bran's condition. It was worse than he thought.

The boy was covered in sweat, body balled up and twisted from pain. He looked exhausted, expression foggy and breath ragged; he could barely keep his eyes open.

In an instant - an image of a young boy curled up in a bed of warm furs, rasping and coughing, flashed in Sow'in's mind. It had been so long since he last felt ill or like he was on the verge of death, he no longer remembered what it felt like. But seeing Bran in such a state, it brought him back to that very same night of the warm furs and coughing and wondering if he would see the next sunrise. Seeing it face to face, he could almost imagine the fear gripping at his throat.

Without saying another word, Sow'in's dark form bent over and attempted to reposition the boy at least to the point he could lie facing up. His ivory limbs could no longer feel pain, but neither could they feel cold or warmth. He needed to know if the boy was suffering a fever and so he did the only thing he could-

-and rested his forehead on Bran's.

It lasted mere seconds; long enough to confirm that the boy was definitely burning up. Once he had his answer, Sow'in straightened back up and got to work.

He summoned some additional herbs out of thin air and popped them into the mortar. "Water," he demanded as he was grinding the ingredients and it was Sundown that answered, dutifully providing a flask from out of nowhere. The herbs now ground to a pulp, Sow'in took the flask and poured some hot water in - the mortar now a makeshift bowl and the pestle had transformed itself into a wooden spoon. After stirring the mixture, blowing on it and taking a sip (both to test out the heat and taste), it was finally ready.

Now all he had to do was help Bran take his medicine.

—

Nettie was still drawing when a gentle breeze blew past her, wrapping around her and tousling her red curls. Several paper cranes emerged from their hiding spots to flutter about her, trying to let her know that someone was fast approaching and to get ready.

And just like before, Sundown's entrance soon yawned and stretched and the tall Lady Ophelia appeared before her once more. She tried to dress a little more 'plainly' this time around and while her gown was not covered in as much finery or pearls, she still looked very much like a princess. "Hello Nettie darling~" she cooed as soon as she saw the child, her voice warm and soothing as always. "Sundown tells me you've had such a distressing morning. Won't you tell me all about it?"

Questions about the reason behind her tears. Nettie could only shake her head and manage a feeble answer between sobs. “I- I don’t know.” Why was she crying? Worry, guilt, fear… a muddle of emotions that swelled in her chest until it overwhelmed her. Did she always cry when Bran got sick? No, not usually. Not in the past, when Maude had reassured the child before her tears could even begin to surface.

Sow'in stood. Nettie’s heart ached for comfort so much that she found herself reaching to clutch the edge of his cloak. It didn’t stop her tears, but its softness eased the lump in her throat. At Sow'in’s instructions, she rubbed her eyes with her free arm and nodded. Crying had dampened her excitement to see Ophelia, but a spark of eagerness sputtered back to life. Her guilt for disobeying Bran lingered.

Reluctance slowed the child’s hand as she released Sow'in’s cloak. Before she knew it, he had vanished upstairs. Nettie sniffled, feeling small and alone, and tried to calm herself as Sow'in had instructed. She could do this. She could be a good greeter. With a deep breath, she went to fetch crayons and paper to draw flowers for Ophelia before the faerie arrived.

—

The jagged thing lodged within Bran’s chest was trying to tear him apart from the inside. He didn’t know how else to describe the sensation. It felt like the flu in some ways, in how it ached and exhausted him, but also like no illness he’d experienced before. It burned in his lungs and dug into his heart. It sent chills through him and then scalding warmth.

Dimly, Bran wondered if this sickness was a sort of punishment for his failure to run away last night.

He’d been trying to muster the strength to get up — because Ophelia would surely arrive soon, and more importantly, because he’d told Nettie he’d be okay — but the more he tried, the more everything hurt.

The knocking at the door slipped past his awareness, but he heard the voice at his bedside. Sow'in. Dread twisted in Bran. Feigning sleep likely wouldn’t fool the ghoul. He inhaled, shaky, and curled into a tighter ball in an attempt to smother the pain into something smaller, more tolerable. It let him talk, at least, quiet and muffled further by the blanket. “I’m sorry.”

[thesundowncrew]

Wasn’t sure I’d get this one finished in time but luckily I did! For Mermay’s Mythology prompt I bring you Suvannamaccha. 

Suvannamaccha is the mermaid princess sited in Ramayana and is the consort of the God Hanuman. Her image is quite popular in Thailand and you can commonly see paintings or Pha Yant of her in homes or businesses as a good luck charm. 

[thesundowncrew]

At first she shook her head but it was much too quick an answer. More likely a cover and moving on instinct; moving out of fear. And finally, Nettie nodded.

“He said not to tell you,” she squeaked, tears rolling down her flushed face. “He said—He said he’ll be okay.”

Despite seeing it happen countless times by now, Sow'in was still unprepared for when a child cried. Startled, a white claw almost reached out for her - but unsure what to do next, the clawed hand fell back on his bent knee. She was quietly sobbing now and the ghoul couldn't help but ask "..Why are you crying..?"

Sow'in was at a loss at how to comfort her but more importantly, he couldn't understand why the thought of Bran being sick was enough to bring Nettie to tears. Was it serious? Was he dying? Surely not. He could read his spirit energy from here, he would know if he was actually dying. Humans were fragile and fell ill from time to time so why did it warrant such a reaction? Sow'in was stunned but curious at the same time. "..Do you always cry when Bran falls ill..?"

Nevertheless, the children were his responsibility which included their health and overall well-being. Regardless what Nettie answered, Sow'in had already made up his mind.

He stood up and looked back at the little girl, overwhelmed and still sobbing on her feet. She had been told not to tell anyone about his condition. It was then Sow'in surmised that perhaps her tears were not out of fear but of guilt. He sighed, the tension finally leaving his shoulders while a small ache burrowed in his chest.

"..Stay here an' calm yourself. Sundown will show Lady Ophelia in an' you will greet her," Sow'in instructed her, slowly and surely. If it had been any other guest, the ghoul would not risk leaving Nettie alone to greet them but thankfully it was Lady Ophelia, whom Sow'in trusted would grant both children understanding and grace. And even if Nettie was not in any state to welcome her, Sundown would most likely take care of everything in his stead. "..If she asks for me, let her know ah will see her shortly. Do you.. understand?"

Despite how gently the words came out of the ghoul's mouth, there was no room for defiance or protest. Both children understood that in his home, Sow'in's word was law. He was going to check on Bran upstairs and there was nothing Nettie could do about it.

----

knock knock

The door opened and soundless steps made their way into the bedroom, cushioned by the wooly carpet. The ghoul found Bran where he expected him to be - curled up in a ball under the covers and bound to the bed. He walked over to the desk nearby and made some space - pushing aside Bran's papers and notebook - to set down a wooden bowl. The bowl already had a pestle and some ground herbs. He just needed to do one final diagnosis to determine what ailment befell the boy.

"Answer me if you are awake," said Sow'in, standing by the bedside.

Nettie could no longer see Sow'in through her hands and hair, but his initial reply carried such sharpness that she still flinched and stepped backward, fearful once again. The lump in her throat grew.

Footsteps approached her. Not Bran’s quiet and careful steps, which Nettie had memorized; nor Maude’s brisk stride or Arthur’s deliberate tread, which the child longed to hear again. Sow'in’s steps. Nettie was still learning how to recognize his.

Before her fear could overwhelm her into backing away again, the sound of his steps stopped in front of her. When he spoke, his tone no longer sounded as sharp. It sounded… uncomfortable. And also lower to the ground. Nettie’s fingers parted so she could peek through them, hair slipping to bounce against her shoulders. Watery blue eyes met his green gaze.

A question. Somehow both the hardest and the easiest question for the child to answer.

Nettie shook her head quickly, fingers pressing back together to hide her face again. The rest of her curls shook themselves free. Bran had trusted her. She trusted Bran. But… but she wanted him to be okay. And… her fragile strength crumbled. The shield of Nettie’s hands weakened, loosened. She swallowed and nodded once, slow and guilt-ridden.

“He said not to tell you.” Her voice wavered. “He said—” A hitch in her breath broke through her words this time, and hot tears spilled down her cheeks at last. Nettie gave up on hiding her face altogether and wiped her eyes with a little hiccup of a sob, tears blurring the ghoul into dark shadows and a hint of green. “He— he’ll be okay. He said he’ll be okay.”

[thesundowncrew]

Herb's Properties

Basil:  money, luck, prosperity, happiness

Bay Leaf: energy, cleansing, can be charged with almost any intention

Camomile: Caring, kindness, luck, growth, self-love growth, confidence, avoiding negativity, happiness

Cinnamon: passion, quick success, fire magick

Chia seeds: Growth, health, kindness, Property

Chilli flakes:  Pride, confidence, power, strength, Passion

Cumin: Courage, bravery, protection, loyalty

Dandelion: wishes, charisma, success, good luck

Dill: sexual love, luck, protection

Eucalyptus: cleansing, healing, purifying, relaxing, comfort

Fennel:  hate, anger

Flax seeds: Prosperity, growth, new beginnings

Ginger: fiery passion, success, and personal power

Jasmine: love, dreams, sensuality, luxury and kindness

Lavender: love and attraction, purification, relaxation, restful sleep

Nutmeg: luck, Health, Fidelity, Love, Prosperity, comfort, loyalty

Oregano:  comfort, love, warmth

Paprika:  Pride, confidence, power, strength

Parsley: Cleansing. purification

Peppermint: healing, purification, love and energy, cleansing, prosperity

Poppy seeds: protection, intuition, self-assurance, hexing and cursing

Rose: love, beauty, harmony, romance, attraction

Rosemary: cleansing, purification, wisdom, protection

Sesame seeds: Prosperity, growth, health, nurturing

Spearmint: love, cleansing, renewal, blessing

Sunflower seeds: happiness, growth, joy

Thyme: beauty, strength, courage

Turmeric: confidence, creativity, energy

Vanilla: love and sexuality

tip jar

[thesundowncrew]

Time does not heal your grief, it teaches you to how to wear it.

-@lipikkawrites

[thesundowncrew]

The littler child was always so expressive, it was almost amusing to the ghoul. Sometimes he could almost tell what she was thinking. Almost.

The moment he mentioned taking the dishes to the kitchen, she did just that — zooming past him and leaving the second half of his instruction behind. At the second mention of Lady Ophelia, he could see how she scrambled to the window to get a glimpse of their guest only to be disappointed when she realized she wasn't here yet.

Sow'in heard light footsteps coming towards him and when he turned to face her, suddenly there it was. An expression of pure dread.

The child basically wore her heart on her entire being. Movements like how her body froze, or the brief hitch in her breath, or how her tiny hands tightened on the folds of her dress, did not go unnoticed.

“Ummm…!” She was trying to hide within her hair. “Could— could she play with me first?” Her voice was growing softer and softer, the ghoul had a hard time hearing her. “And Bran later?”

"Speak up. Ah didn't hear you," said Sow'in. He hadn't meant to sound so sharp but before he knew it, a jolt of energy slapped him — hard — on the back. He almost tumbled forward but he stood his ground, a hiss barely escaping gritted teeth. He got the message.

As if being guided, he took a few, slow steps towards Nettie before -begrudgingly- crouching down on one knee. "..Ah meant to say... Could you.. repeat what you said..?" He looked and sounded uncomfortable. He must not be used to taking such a position. Now at eye-level with the child, the ghoul cocked his head to the side studying her further.

And then he remembered Bran, standing in the middle of a grassy field with nothing but a quilt wrapped around his small frame. The pieces had clicked together.

"..Is something the matter with Bran?" Sow'in finally asked, his voice firmer now.

He declined her offer. The hope in Nettie’s eyes faded, and she wilted like a flower without sunlight, her gaze falling. She truly did want to help. Moreover, without a task to occupy her attention, Bran’s secret rose in her throat and begged to be set free.

Clear your dishes in the kitchen. Nettie appreciated the distraction so much that her mind briefly blocked out the second half of Sow'in’s request. She retrieved the plate and glass and ran to the kitchen.

The words ‘Lady Ophelia is here’ sent a jolt of excitement through the child, and she set the dishes down with a slight clatter in her hurry to reach a window. No sign of her yet. Dismay colored Nettie’s expression when she turned back to Sow'in. She opened her mouth to ask when Ophelia would arrive— but froze when the ghoul kept speaking.

It would be rude to be late. Rude to Ophelia.

Oh. Oh no.

… Sow'in had told her to fetch Bran, hadn’t he? Nettie’s heart fell into her stomach. She bit her lip, her face flushing. “Umm…” Bran had told her not to tell the truth. But if she didn’t tell, Bran would be late, and Ophelia would be upset with them. Upset with Nettie. Nettie gripped the folds of her dress again — a dress carefully chosen in hopes Ophelia would find it pretty. She didn’t want to disappoint the faerie. The mere thought made her eyes sting.

“Ummm…!” Blinking back tears, Nettie released her grip on her dress and covered her face with her hair, trying to hide without running away entirely. Her ears burned with indecision now as well. “Could— could she play with me first?” Tangled red curls muffled the child’s desperate suggestion. “And Bran later?”