this work is IN PROCESS, and still being drafted. if you insist on charging ahead, expect errors, delays, possible major changes, and cliffhangers

This world used to be a world full of magic. Once, there were dragons here. Powerful spellcasters who could create and destroy with only their minds and wills. Now, the only magic left in the world is in one small village, untouched by the cares and changes of the outside world.
In Athelstein, people still live in harmony with the land and one another, cooperating and sharing all they have. It’s near the end of these times of light and joy and cooperation that our story finds us. Let me warn you—this isn’t a happy story. Many readers may want to find something less tragic, less horrific, to read. Perhaps the romance shelves, or a good mystery? No?
Well I warned you.

Hella hurried through the forest, not stopping to greet the Fula trees as she usually did—holding tightly to the various bundles of herbs and flowers in her arms, she rushed passed the fila berry patch and past her favorite mork tree. She was running late. Healer Tama would be disappointed if she wasn’t in the clinic on time.
She stumbled past the guardian trees and onto the path down to the village just as the morning chimes rang. She was almost on time. If she hurried she could make it. She stepped onto the cobblestones that would carry her past the eastern neighborhood and the town hall and the square in the center of their village, to the healing house just north of the square. So focused on speeding through she didn’t notice the man leaning against one of the buildings clearly waiting for her. She didn’t notice him until he had approached her and called out her name.
“Hella! Peace this abundant morning.” he greeted her formally with the words of their people.
She jumped out of her skin, dropping two of her parcels.
“Marek! Abundance to you this peaceful morning.” She bent to pick up her dropped parcels as he watched. “I really must be—“
“I wanted to speak with you today Hella,” he cut her off, “about our pairing during the festival tonight and declaring our intentions together.” Hella badly contained her eye roll at him.
“Marek. for the third time. I have no intentions of pairing with you. Please stop asking. I’m going to the festival with the other apprentices, so i suggest you find some other waifi to nag with your desires.” She turned away to try and move around him dismissively.
But not before he grabbed her arm forcefully, “Hella, be reasonable. I have given you plenty of time for your silly little refusals. I’m the most eligible man in Athelstein.” She snorted back a laugh. He looked at her condescendingly—as an adult would look at a petulant child. She attempted to wrench her arm away and he tightened his grip in response.
“Marek. That you think so highly of yourself is only another reason for me to refuse you. I am NOT interested in you. If you are as eligible as you believe you should have no problem finding someone else to partner with. Let go of me now—you are hurting me and I’d regret having to report you and make this nasty behavior of yours public record.”
He released his grip and raised his hands mockingly in surrender. A slimy, fake smile appeared on his face, as she shuffled the bundle in her arms and warily made her way around him, giving him a large berth so she was out of his reach. Few members of their hatha were as entitled or unbearable as Marek. The son of two wealthy and respected former council people, he had gone away for several years to receive a formal education in the nearby kingdom of Ranstak. He had come back with foreign, hateful ideas that resonated with very few people in the village.
Thanks to him, she was definitely going to be late this morning. Healer Tama hasn’t yet made it to healing house and hella has just enough time to organize the herbs and set up for the day before they arrived.
“Hella! Peace to you dear. Lovely to see you so industrious this find festival morning. Are you looking forward to Ma’Fartha this evening?”
“Yes Healer, I am. Abundance to you this peaceful day. I have your tea ready on your desk and we have three appointments today as well as whatever walk ins show up—i anticipate some injuries with the festival crew setting up today so we may be busy. i gathered some extra herbs and prepared salve and bandages just in case.”
“Always so prepared my girl. You’re almost ready to take over for me completely aren’t you?!”
Hella laughed, “you know that’s no where near true. i have much more to learn from you. i hope you’ll wait many more years before you retire and pass the mantle on.”

the rest of the day passed normally for Hella; preparing medicines for Tama, inventorying their tinctures, treating small injuries, studying for her healers exam.
Soon the sun was setting, and Tama was turning the sign on the door to closed.
“are you dancing for your hatha tonight my dear?”
“yes healer, but only in the Dragon’s dance this year.”
“ah. yes, that’s the story of magic isn’t it?”
“yes it’s the story of the rise and fall of magic, not the one with the evil witch, the other one.”
Healer Tama nodded her head in understanding.
“but your not dancing with all the waifi this year?”
Hella resisted rolling her eyes, tired of answering the question.
“No, I have no interest in catching anyone’s eyes this year. I’m too busy cataloging the forest and studying for the exam.”
It was Tamas turn to roll their eyes.
“You’ll have to make time for having a life at some point Hella!”
“Do i? i think i’ll be happy with my friends and family and healing house.”
“That’s fair enough. just make sure you’re taking time to enjoy your life!”
They walked out the back door and went their separate ways. Tama lived in the house provided for the healer, just a block away. Hella’s family home was much further away, on the edge of the southern neighborhood.
Her family was bustling to get out the door when she arrived. Before she could call out she was home, two of her younger siblings were upon her begging for her attention and assistance.
“Hella i need you to do my hair!”
“No hells please come help with my corset and accessories first!”
her mother called from the loft above, “Hella darling when you get a moment can you come talk to your fathers and rupa and i?”
“yes mama, let me help the twins first!” she called back.
“Zig, go brush your hair first. Leffe let’s take a look at the accessories while i help you put on your corset in your room. shoo, shoo! let’s get to it!”
Hella kissed her older brothers cheek where he was sitting at the table smiling ruefully at their busy family scene, and followed the twins to their bedroom.
In no time at all she had helped with the corset, picked complimentary jewelry, hair ribbons and beads, and veil for Leffe who wanted to do their hair themselves and had braided and woven Zigs long hair into an intricate half up half down style, with beautiful beads and ribbons cascading down their back.
By the time she made it upstairs to the loft all of her parents sat dressed and ready.
“Mama, you said you needed something? i don’t have long i have to go get ready.”
“ofcourse darling but come and sit with us for just a moment. The opening ceremony isn’t for two hours, you have time.”
Hella knew that but had private plans of her own to get to.
“darling,” her father began, “we know you chose not to dance the waifi this year, and we respect that choice, but…” he trailed off, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation.
her papa cut in, “but we’re concerned that you’re too focused on your studies and projects and not giving enough thought or attention to the rest of your life.”
she looked to her mother, waiting for her to add her own input.
“Darling. I only want you to be happy, whatever that means for you. But i am concerned that you’re isolating yourself from others. You know that families can look like anything you desire, are you truly not interested in forming your own family in any capacity?”
Hella looked now to her rupa who had remained silent as they often did. They didn’t move to say anything.
“Rupa. you don’t have anything to add?” she asked.
they shook their head and began to move their hands into the shapes of words.
i think you’re an adult now and this is your path to figure out.
“okay. listen guys. i really don’t want to have this conversation again, okay? i love you all, i appreciate your concern. but i have a family right here. i’m not ready to think about what i want my future family to look like because i’m not ready to leave our family. i’m not interested in pursuing the wafawa with anyone, or any group yet. if and when i begin the pairing process, i promise you’ll all be the first to know. but please, just be happy that i’m happy! i have one of the most vital apprenticeships in our village! My work is important. please just let that be enough. i have to go get ready. i love you all.”
With nothing else to say, and before they could mention her last waifi or anything else troubling, she got up and kissed each of them on the cheek, and went downstairs to her own bedroom that she shared with Marrow, who was sitting doing their hair and smiling.
“another intervention about the waifi?” they asked.
“ugh yes. why can’t they just leave it be?!”
“because none of them know what you truly do in the woods.” they teased.
Hella rolled her eyes. “and now i regret allowing even you to know!”
On her bed was her festival dress and the intricate accessories she was meant to wear for the dance. She loved her part in the dragons dance—the central performer, the dragon itself. Her dress was a simple black sheath dress with slits up both sides of the legs. It was an off the shoulder dress with flowing sleeves that skimmed the floor. Her skin underneath the dress was dyed with intricate designs for the festival, peaking out across her shoulders and legs. Over the simple dress she wore a skirt of strung beads meant to look like flames, in beautiful hues of red and pink and orange. the beaded skirt made music when she walked and danced. along with the skirt was an intricately beaded corset with a dragon wrapping around her torso.
The outfit was the easy part of getting ready. the difficult part was taking her long hair out of the covering she wore it in for work, brushing it, and braiding it for the dance. Her hair fell to her waist, but when she added the ribbons and beads of the dragon, it would fall even longer, swinging back and forth with the chimes of wood and metal and glass beads, making music of its own. each ribbon and bead had significance. Unlike her younger siblings who were not yet past their calling day and could decorate their hair however they desired so long as they wore their veils, Hella had earned every ribbon and bead. Here, a set of glass beads in hues of blue, the color of healing, these she received when she became the healer apprentice. Embroidered ribbons from each of her family members to represent her heritage. Wooden beads from her trips to the ancestral shrine to give offerings. Twelve thin ribbons each with a metal coin at the end represented her official status as a council apprentice; these she received two years after her calling day, on Ta’Rem, the festival of service. Each thin council ribbon was gifted by the current council member. After she had received them all of the current apprentices had taken her out for a joyful celebration with home brewed spirits and an impromptu mushroom trip that had given her a mega hangover. she smiled at the fond memories and quickened her fingers to braid more speedily so she could make it in time.
Soon her head was heavy with braids and beads, and she was ready. She left quietly through the back door, none but her brother seeing her escape. He gave a small smile but no other indication that he noticed. Like Rupa, he tended towards silence. She rushed to the forest as quickly as she could, knowing she had only a short time before she would be expected to be seen among her peers and then be dancing at the central stage in the square.
She made her way through the forest carefully, finding her softly tread path to a small pond clearing. No one else seemed to know of it, and she had always thought of it as her secret place. Until last year when someone else had intruded.
They wrapped their arms around her from behind now, surprising her.
“hello you. back so soon?” Hella received a kiss on the cheek and turned in their arms.
“i told you i’d be back to show you my festival dressing. you wanted to see the beads.” She shook her head a little to make her hair sing. Saphanne smiled.
“you’re beautiful darling.” they leaned towards her and kissed her on the lips, a tender kiss, their lips open to one another’s, both of their breath soft on the others mouth.
“thank you. i wish you could come with me.”
“i know you do. but i promise though you can’t see my physical form there, i’ll be watching.” saphanne gave her another kiss on the cheek. hella leaned into their arms.
“get going my love. you must make your appearances. i’ll see you tonight, at our tree.” with a firm kiss on Hellas forehead, they dissapated, leaving Hellas arms empty and their heart heavy with yearning.

the Ma’Fartha festival was one of seven large yearly festivals that the village of Athelstein put on, attracting visitors from the nearest towns. For Athelstein was the only place left to go if you wanted to see magic. The entire village had been transformed throughout the day. Every street was lined with decorations. Every shop and vendor was open and put on their very best. The town square was the main attraction but not to be overlooked by the many games and activities and entertainment throughout. Council hall was turned into one huge buffet, and tables were littered everywhere for people to sit and eat and enjoy. Young people in veils milled about laughing and playing the games. Foreigners mingled with villagers talking of the larger outside world. Dancers in heavy beaded dress like Hellas milled about saying hello. In all the village though, citizens and visitors alike were enamored with the council. Only 24 people had their hair quite as heavy and musical as Hellas. The 12 council people and their apprentices were easy to spot with the colorful coin ribbons and enormous amount of beads they earned for their service to their community. Each elder and apprentice moved through the crowds saying hello to people, talking to visitors, doing their duty. For them—festivals were work as much as they were for enjoyment.
Hella loved her work though, and gladly answered questions about her beads, about how the apprenticeship was going, about the most recent issues brought to the council, and she even fended off a few more questions about not joining the waifi dance this year. The sad looks of pity in some of the eyes of the elderly who knew her history was just about all she could take before she escaped to the back of the stage where the dragons dancers were preparing.
The dragons dance was the main attraction for the festival. The dancers practiced for months in advance. It was a long dance; for 45 minutes they moved their bodies into the shapes of creatures big and small, and told the story of the old magic.
The story went like this: long before humans spread out on the land, every being had been imbued with the flow of magic, the flow of all living things. Most powerful of all were the dragons, who understood the flow of the magic and could wield it to their desires. The dragons lived mostly in peace with one another and the rest of the land because they wanted for little and understood the cost of whatever magic they used. Until one day, a dragon met a human.
This dragon was the most talented of all the magic wielders—they could create anything they desired with only a wish, or a breath. They loved most of all to create beautiful trees that took on shapes and swayed and danced in the wind for them. Because of their great love for the magic and the trees, and their great respect for life, the trees loved them back. There was nowhere they would rather be than in their trees.
One day a human stumbled into their grove of trees and frightened the dragon. But soon the human’s wonder at their trees replaced their fear of humans with a curiousity to know more about this one. So they revealed themself to the human. It was then the human’s turn to be frightened. The dragon shifted their shape once more so that the human would be less afraid, and took on a humanoid appearance, and they began to talk.
The human came back to the dragon’s grove many, many times. And eventually, they admitted to one another that they felt deeply for each other. And so the dragon used their magic to change their shape once again; reaching deeply for the flow of magic, they changed themselves at their very cellular level, so they could live and be with their love, forever.
But what the dragon didn’t know is that humans are often weak and frail. For many years they lived with their human in peace and happiness under the grove of the dancing trees. They created together many plants and trees and animals to live among their grove, and their grove grew to be a forest. They were blissfully happy and lived and loved with the land.
Until one day their human became ill, and no matter what magic they tried to weave, the human couldn’t fully recover. The dragon was distraught; they had never met a creature who couldn’t be healed by magic! They searched high and low for a way to heal their lover. They even spoke once again to the other dragons in farther reaches of the world, hoping someone would know how to heal a human. But the other dragons still looked at humans with hatred and disdain, they scoffed at the dragon and wondered why they would care to save a humans life. They told them that all humans are weak and grow old and die; that human strength came from weapons and violence, not from magic.
And so the human continued to weaken, until one day, they told the dragon they knew they would soon pass from the world. Distraught, the dragon sat by their side, crying silently, holding their hand until their last breath passed through their lips. And at that last breath, in their grief, the dragon released waves and waves of magic, covering their forest and the land just beyond it, sinking deeply in the soil, the spirit of the dragon sank deeply into the fibers of the forest, the flowers and the grasses, the trees and the herbs, the ponds, the willows and reeds. They felt threads that tethered them to every living thing, and as the grief and magic poured out of them, they watched in horror as their magic passed through their lovers body. Their human began to fade away, replaced by billions of cells that spread through the flow of the dragons magic and binded themselves to the land and to the dragon and to the forest.
And because the dragon was immortal they lived to see their kin fall and die at the hands of humans, and they lived to see humans settle outside their forest. They lived to see those humans have children who possesed magic because they were born and raised on the lands of the dragons lover. They lived to teach some of those humans the rules of magic, and to see those humans live and die as witches. Time passed, and more time passed, and the dragon remained in the forest watching the world change, and the magic fade, everywhere but there on their lovers land. Where the dragons lover had magically bonded with the land, the magic remained, and so the dragon remained also, living peacefully in grief, in their grove.
And that is the story of how magic came and went from the world, but stayed in Athelstein.
Hella danced the dance of the dragon with a passion that only someone familiar with love’s grief could dance. And as she came to the end, her eyes felt wet with tears, and then there was the applause and the flowers and the shaking hands, and the celebration, and through it all she was numb, thinking only of her own lovers, old and new.
Before long, she saw Marek in the line of well wishers shaking the dancers hands and lauding them with flowers and gifts, so she gently excused herself from the end of the line and hid behind one of the game tents. That was where healer Tama found her and scared her out of her wits.
“Who are you hiding from, sweet Hella?” Tama whispered from behind her.
Hella jumped and almost spilled her mulled cider down her dress.
“Tama! good gods, you scared me.” Tama was giggling to themselves now.
“Seriously though, who are you hiding from?” Hella rolled her eyes.
“Marek. He accosted me again this morning.” Tama looked concerned.
“Hella. again? you really should consider telling your family and the council about this. He needs to be held accountable for this behaviour before it lands on some other waifa.”
Hella let out a deep sigh.
“I know I just don’t want to make a stink. Surely he will learn better in his own time?”
“Hella you know that’s not how it works. Yes, Marek is an odd case, but there are reasons we have a process for community accountability here. So this sort of thing doesn’t happen.”
Hella took a deep breath, knowing what she was going to say would lead her down a road she couldn’t backtrack from.
“This morning he grabbed me Tama. Hard. He only let go when I threatened him with reporting it.” Tama looked abhorred at this information.
“That’s it. I’ll be bringing this before the council myself. I won’t force you to name yourself but this has gone far enough. It looks like he’s out of the line, why don’t you take your cider back to your spot and get your flowers. You deserve them; you were lovely in tonight’s dance, my dear.”
Tama kissed her on the cheek and left her to her own ruminations.

1. backstory: the narrator introduces us to the setting and some of the characters and hints that the world was once full of magic and the only magic left is what lasts in the bonds between people in a small village between the mountains and the rest of the world
2. catalyst: there are talks about bad shit happening in the nearby kingdoms and a war that may be brewing; a woman turns down a man who is a little too entitled after spending time in the nearby patriarchal kingdom
3. big event: they’re burning women alive in villages not too far away for “witchcraft” men in athelstein are getting riled up about shit
4. midpoint: the witch hunt comes to athelstein
5. crisis: trying to save them
6. climax: women are burned at the stake
7. realization: things end people die; oppression is miserable for everyone involved

go home to the hearth