When he is not trying to win the approval of Zephyrs stubborn father, Undae spends his days overseeing the waters of the world, to spring forth life to all corners of the world. He is the patron of sailors and pirates who oft pray to the fickle God for protection on his waters. But Undae does not have play favourites. All who traverse upon the waters have a right to it, if they have the skill. This applies to the many grand fae that make their home deep within the oceans and lakes of the world.

From 'Gods and Scandal: Storms Arise’. Author- Luciel Borneov

Walking.

What was her obsession with it? We had besoms for a reason. Lero Rero huffed and puffed all the way to the besom broker. The scene of the ‘borrowing’. The shop in question was on a small alley packed together with an assortment of other establishments. Like sardines in a can, the buildings were pushed together and had warped and contorted- shifted by time itself. The row of shops seemingly leaned and looked down on Lero with contempt, almost taunting them. I always hated this street.

Wistful Wantings.

One of many busy streets in the Witches Brim. The Brim was where all major business and trade happened in Wistervander. Lero Rero was occasionally, but begrudgingly, a customer when in need of research tools and supplies. In the air, they could flit and flutter about to dodge the nuisance of others. On the ground however, they were being pushed, shoved and trodden on. The cobbled street was as tightly packed with witches and fae as the buildings were. Stalls were dotted about around in nooks and crannies, manned with shopkeepers aggressively hawking their wares.

Kal, seemingly noticing Lero’s distress, wrapped a protective arm around their shoulder and pulled them close.

“Stick close, it’s busy.” She said, looking intensely at the besom brokers shop. Was it instinct? Lero wondered, they thought back to the pancakes, to their investigation in the Under Brim. Sure, she was bossy, but she... cared? Lero squinted at Kal with suspicion. Was this truly just in her nature?

In comparison to the street outside, the besom brokers shop was blissfully silent. Lero’s ears twitched and strained as the sound of excited little fae and creatures flit around on shelves and fluttered in the air. They let out a breath. Without realising, they had been holding their breath. Oxygen and magick flowed through their body unhindered once more as their muscles began to relax.

“Feeling better?” Kal asked, their arm loosening its concerned grip. Heat began to spread as Lero looked up at the detective. Why did I let her hold me? Why did this feel comfortable and yet so... Lero immediately pushed themselves away from the confused Seelie.

“Hmph, of course I am. I don’t need your protection nor your concern.” For once, Lero looked away, avoiding all eye contact completely.

Work. That’s what they were here for.

“I assume we’re here to question the shop keep correct?” They asked. Quickly trying to swat away the unfamiliar emotions.

“Ah... yes...” Kal responded. Quieter than Lero had expected. Lero moved to the counter, cautiously looking around. Besoms lined shelves and hung from the ceiling. Framed engravings on the wall illustrating famous fae and witches with their besom companions. A variety of other little trinkets were floating in the air- toys for the fae here no doubt. A small smile crept on Leros face at the sight. They already felt a great deal of respect for the shopkeep, whoever they were.

With a ring of the bell on the counter, Kal joined Lero in observing the shop.

“It has a good feeling, this shop I mean,” Kal said.

“Agreed,” Lero responded.

“Why thank you!” A voice from behind the pair made them jump. “Oh! Excuse me, I didn’t mean to startle you!”

“That’s alright, may I ask for your name?” Kal asked, scrunching her shoulders in an attempt to prevent knocking her head from hanging besoms.

“Moira! I’m the owner of this establishment!” The shopkeep squeezed around the pair to get behind the counter. Their yellow hair, voluminous and made solely of autumnal leaves fell past their shoulders. It was light and springy and rustled gently as they moved. Lero looked on with intrigue. It had been some time since they had last seen a dryad in the main city. Their sandy coloured skin had magicked symbols tattooed on, presumably used to save time when engaged in their besom making. Sparkling red gem-like eyes looked on at the pair, filled with curiosity. A pointed hat, made from crimson felt and adorned with bird feathers tilted with them as they cocked their head to the side. They smiled at Lero, noticing their visual investigation.

“Now then, what can I do for my unusual customers today?”

“The unusual one is you.” Lero stated, matter of factly. Kals head whipped around to look at Lero, knocking her head in the process and interrupting any attempt to interject.

“Oh? Why would that be small one?” Moira mused.

“Dryads often make their homes in the ancient trees they’re birthed from, and they live only for as long as said tree does.”

“And it’s unusual for them to leave these said homes?” Moira asked, carrying on Leros sentence.

“Yup.”

“And?”

“And what?” Lero tilted their head to the side, evidently confused.

“Aren’t you going to ask why I’m so far from any ancient trees?”

Lero frowned. Bewildered. they had merely stated a fact based on statistics.

“No? That’s your business. You said we were the unusual ones, when in fact it is far more likely to see two witches in a besom shop than it is to see a dryad far from their tree.”

“Ah... Lero, I think Moira meant it was unusual to see me in a besom shop,” Kal spoke looking away. She gripped her prosthetic arm anxiously before dropping both arms back to her side.

“Apologies Moira, we aren’t here as customers,” she explained, resuming her usual countenance. Leros mind boggled, unable to take their eyes off the detective, befuddled at their own lack of understanding. Did I say something wrong?

“Is this perchance about the stolen besom?” The shopkeep questioned, rusting about in a drawer. “I already told the Seelies everything I know, I heard a large crash from my flat above,” they pointed at the ceiling, “when I went to investigate, my window had been smashed in and the thief was on the floor, delirious, muttering about a creature... Although...” Moira mused, “the besom was stolen, it was returned...”

Huh?

“When? By who?” Kal urged.

“That I don’t know. it was left on my doorstep with a note- it was written in a strange language I’ve never seen before.” Moira emerged from the drawer with the note, “I did let the Seelies know but no one ever came to collect it,” Kal frowned. She flashed her badge. “May I?” Moira nodded, handing the note over.

Kal scowled.

“Thank you Moira, you’ve been a big hel-”

“The besom,” Lero interjected before Kal could finish her sentence. “May I talk with them?” Moira smiled.

“You may, but the poor thing has been silent since that night,” Moira fetched the besom in question and gently placed it on the counter. Beautifully crafted. The stout pole was made from birch, shaped for comfortable flight- a notch on one end for bags and baskets to hang from. The head of the besom was made with an unusual mix of birch twigs in the centre and then a shorter bundle of heather around the outside. The willow twine holding it together was adorned with thread- silver most likely- and beads made from a variety of materials. Lero was in awe. The souls and spirits within besoms formed entities that were simultaneously singular and multiple. This certainly wasn’t Lero’s specialty- they researched magick creatures that were far easier to comprehend. But they had come across them in their research ‘tangents’ as Lero called them. The researcher held their hand over the besom.

“Name?”

The besom stayed silent but a familiar feeling came over Lero. They were reminded of the first encounter with their besom, Dvita. Lero gently touched the birch tail. A small thrum of magick sent a breeze chattering through Leros hair.

“Astra…”

A collection of voices became one as the voice rushed through Leros mind. The besoms name was Astra.

“Who took you?” Lero closed their eyes.

“Someone that is seen in the night but is lost under Lucis’ rays.” Lero sighed. THIS. This is why they preferred their critters.

“Any luck?” Kal asked.

“A riddle- ‘Someone that is seen in the night but is lost under Lucis’ rays.’” Lero bowed to a smiling Moira before turning on their heels and making for the exit. That besom knew exactly who took it. Why be so fickle? Then there’s the note.... THE NOTE! Lero spun around causing a collision with the detective and several market goers.

“Offt, careful Lero!” She exclaimed, “what is it?”

“The note? Can you read it?”

“No, I was hoping you could.” Kal replied, looking around, “Why don’t we head to a cafe, go over the note and discuss our next move?” Suggested the detective, passing the note to Lero. A cursory glance at the note had the researcher convinced. Lero shook their head.

“No, let's head to Library Linguata,” Lero stated, “I’ll need some help deciphering the language used in the note,” before Kal could stop them, Lero began to walk off.

“Alright, but others can't look at the note without permission from my chief,” she explained, “it was already difficult enough getting her to agree to have you assist me.” She fought that hard? How nonsensical.

“Fine, but I still need reference material so let's go,” Lero said, setting off once again, “... they also do excellent marmalade tarts,” they pouted, somehow feeling guilty. A smile softened Kals face. Leros heart tickled in their chest.

“Hmph... come on, I’m getting bored.” With that, the pair marched off.