Pumpkin Spice Candles Soon

The water is blessed, said the priests; it is holy. Any evil it touches, it will burn away.

But what if it is diluted? asked the acolytes.

The priests smiled.

It can’t be, they said.

***

The first of the holy water splashed across the brow of the baby, wailing and shivering in her mother’s arms, and the droplets ran over newborn skin to fall upon the soil.

They drained into the earth, mingling with the dew; and the dew became holy too.

***

The grass that grew on the soil drank some of the water in, drawing it into cells that were instantly blessed, filled with purity. Later, the sheep grazed upon the grass. The blades were sweet and lush, fat with rain, and as the sheep ate, the blessing in the grass flourished within it, coursing through now-sacred blood.

***

The rest of the water sank lower through the soil, washed down with the rains. Groundwater flowed, consecrated, sweeping below the earth beneath the reach of roots or the eyes of humanity.

There was more water there, and the holiness grew.

***

It can’t be? the acolytes asked. How can it not be diluted?

It converts, said the priests. A drop of holy water in a flask from the lake turns the whole flask holy.

What if a drop reaches the lake? asked the acolytes.

Why would that happen? asked the priests.

***

The butcher slew the sheep, taking the meat for cawl. It bubbled in its pot over the fire, the water from the cells of the mutton leaching out into the rest of the stew until all the family groaned at the sweet scent.

It tastes better today, they said, as they ate heartily. We wonder why?

***

The groundwater reached the river, and the whole vein became holy.

***

The butcher’s son was caught by the vampire the following night, wandering home just a little too late, a little too drunk, a little too alone. I wonder if you could help me? the vampire asked, and the butcher’s son followed where he should not have gone.

The vampire sank hungry fangs into unwilling flesh, and the butcher’s son accepted the end.

But it did not come for him.

***

What can have happened? the vampires asked afterwards. What strange power is held by the butcher’s boy? What did he do?

It was a mystery, baffling and wrong. The vampire had been strong and savvy, a hunter of renown. Now, her veins burned, her body aflame from the inside out.

Sickness, maybe? they said uneasily; but there was no sickness that could take a vampire.

***

The river gave drinking water to all the people of the region, in towns and villages and farmsteads alike. The holiness grew, spreading from land to bodies, young and old, rich and poor, believer and unbeliever, coursing through veins and hearts.

And the river flowed on.

***

Something is wrong, the vampires said. 

It was clear now; every vampire in the land was sickening, burning from the inside out as they fed.

No sickness, said the elders, shivering and broken. A corruption. A taint, spreading unchecked like rot. We must leave this land, move elsewhere.

There is something in the water.

***

The river reached the ocean, and the holiness spread from shore to distant shore.

***

We are safe here, the vampires said, collapsing on foreign soil. We cannot touch the ocean; but why should we need to? The humans cannot drink it either. We are safe here.

We are safe.

***

The sun shone over the waves.

Water rose on the warmth, evaporating to the sky. It greeted the clouds, and the holiness blossomed through them.

***

When the rains fell, the vampires screamed; for they knew the end was coming. Every raindrop burned, every splash agony, and they wept and watched in horror as the rains filled the wells, filled the soils, filled the lakes and rivers and valleys and moors, the corruption seizing the new land in its iron grip.

This is the end, they whispered, crumbling to dust. This is the end.

This is the end.

***

The water is blessed, said the priests; it is holy. Any evil it touches, it will burn away.

But what if it is diluted? asked the acolytes.

The priests smiled.

It can’t be, they said.

Tag urself I’m pug

I FINALLY FOUND THIS POST

decay sounds more gentle than rot. when something decays, it is gently taken apart in it's comfortable eternal slumber. when something rots, it's violently taken apart with agony. in this essay i will

Circus Tree: Six individual sycamore trees were shaped, bent, and braided to form this.

What if the forgotten gods have forgotten themselves? If they have taken on the forms of our beings and wander among us searching for something they just can’t recall? What if when they were forgotten they forgot themselves and fell away from their bodies to become spirits drifting aimlessly? Perhaps they made the rest of the world forget too, they fell into the silent reaches after sound and light have faded and steer others away from them. Perhaps we’ve all been forgotten as they were and now we truly are alone. Or perhaps they guide others to this forgotten place to make them join in their fate, driving them to madness and pain, a place where reason and time are gone and all that once was and is now destroyed lives? Perhaps even the forgotten can forget

If the bus carries the rat maybe it’s the bus that carries the plague

all I want is to have a room that looks like I'm old biology professor whose been away from human civilization for half a century in the forest who spends my evenings reading old books researching about cryptids with my cat surrounded by my many treasures and trinkets I've collected over the years and my many, many growing plants that nearly take over all of my house.

Advice for your local Fantasy Knight

gif by the amazing @and-speak

⚔️ Never snub your Gambeson. Gambeson is padded fabric armor that’s usually worn underneath chainmail and plate, so it provides an extra layer of protection. It’s essentially like hitting a pillow. Plus it separates your skin from the chainmail which is uncomfortable and tends to snag. Many people like to snub the Gambeson but those people are idiots. Wear your padded fabrics.

🛡️ When riding, always have your toes pointing up. Otherwise you’ll fall off way easier.

🐎 When your Horse is going uphill, lean forward. And when it’s going downhill, lean back.

⚔️ Since quivers are incredibly impractical on horseback, traditional archers instead carried their excess arrows between their fingers. This also allowed for quicker draw time between shooting.

🛡️ When doing archery, always lift the arrow a little higher than you’d think. Since your eye is not perfectly at-level with your arrow, you need to lift it up to shoot so it will hit your target better. Your eye is playing tricks on you, so aim high.

🐎 Shortbows are ideal for hunting and horseback archery, while Longbows are better for stationary defense on castle walls. If you’re defending a fort, use a Longbow. If you’re a Ranger, go for the Shortbow.

⚔️ Always have some Yarrow on you. It’s a natural antiseptic and was known throughout history for its healing properties. Great in a pinch. Just make sure not to mistake it with Poison Hemlock because the two unfortunately look quite similar. Poison Hemlock has reddish or purple splotches on its stem and is much bigger than Yarrow (8 to 10 feet tall) so that should give it away.

🛡️ There’s two types of Chainmail - Buttermail and Riveted. Never buy Buttermail. It gets that name because cutting through it is that easy. Instead go for the Riveted Chainmail, which has its rings bolted together. It’s way sturdier and harder to cut or pierce.

🐎 Never snub your Helmet. Ever. I’m sorry to tell you this, but an orc won’t care how good your hair looks. It will just grab it and snap your neck.

⚔️ Don’t snub your shield either and make sure you know how to properly use it. Don’t be like Boromir, kids. We all know what happened there.

🛡️ Always have Faulds on to protect your hips. Hanging off the faulds are your tassets to protect your upper thighs.

🐎 For the love of Eru, wear appropriate foot gear. If I have to watch another blockbuster lady knight run into battle in wedged heels I’ll throw a hammer through the TV screen.

⚔️ Strength Training and healthy eating. Armor and Weaponry is heavy, y’all.

🛡️ Always listen to a witch’s advice. There’s a thousand folktales with this exact premise and people who don’t listen never turn out well.

every photo of a shoebill eating is progressively worse than the last