Hot, steamy tears fell into the calm waters of Honeysap Lake late one
night. A young furrikin kneeled on the shore by a small grove of apple trees
crying and lamenting being born. On the other side of the lake the Ackleberry
commune was throwing a grand celebration for the coming rainy season which
would refill their water reservoirs and bring about new plant and animal life
empowering their patron spirits of Lake and Bear. All of the furrikin and
tae'dae were seated on willow benches with trays of candied fruit and tart
salads casually watching the Lakewood Coven perform their Dance of the Rain
Cloud. The sweet and delectable smell of the food wafted across Honeysap Lake,
but the crying furrikin had no interest in such an aroma that any furrikin would
have trekked miles to find. She sat crouched with her head down and let the
tears fall like the upcoming rain for the only fruits of the earth she would
eat were stones.
Her name as Lapida, and she was a furrikin shaped like a rockeater, one of
the last creations of the Elder God Bollikin from which the furrikin race
splintered. From her physical appearance, she was no different from a very
small rockeater with her stony skin and small gray eyes. Steam escaped from
her superheated insides with each sob until she could cry no longer. She dug a
few smooth pebbles from the soil and munched on them slowly for she was hungry
and had been by the shore since sundown when the festivities started. Mid-chew
she heard an irate voice coming from behind her and advancing quickly.
"Jest what are ye doin' in mah orchird?! Ye better not be a'filching mah
apples whilst tha rest o' tha commune be at tha gala!" A grumbling and
near-sighted old tae'dae caretaker hobbled out of the darkness with a small
lamp in one claw and a young tree for a walking stick in the other. He looked
absolutely furious with the source of the munching sound until he got close
enough to discern from Lapida's shape that she had no interest in his apples.
"Bear's strength, child! What're ye doin' out in mah orchird in tha dark
o' tha nigh'? Ye ought'a be celebratin' wit tha rest o' the commune fer tha
rainy season! Come, come 'fore tha rain starts!" He beckoned her towards a
small hut next to a greenhouse in the middle of the orchard. Completely
surprised, the young furrikin followed not knowing any other suitable action.
The caretaker led her into the cottage's cozy single room and struck a small
flint to start a fire and set a kettle of some mysterious herbal tea on the
stove. As he blew the kindling to get it burning, he asked, "Really, child,
why ain't ye celebratin' o'er there? Duty keeps me 'ere, but ye ought'a be
havin' fun!"
Slowly seating herself away from the fire, she timidly replied, "I don't
belong there."
"Aiee, child! Dun say tha! 'Tis too clee-shay an' ain't true at all!"
"But really, sir, I don't. The others hate me and make fun of me behind
my back all because I was born like THIS!" She threw up her stoney hands with
the last word and started sobbing into one of the caretaker's oversized
armchairs.
The caretaker grabbed his walking stick and rapped her on the head as her
hot tears started falling onto the chair. "I'll have no cryin' on mah
great-granpappy's prized! Calm down, lil' one." He waited until she had wiped
all of her tears away before speaking again. "Mah great-granpappy use ta always
say talkin' 'bout yer problems helps make 'em go away. Why doncha say wha's on
yer mind?"
Lapida paused and thought to herself before responding, "No, I can not. I
will not. This does not concern you and I have intruded long enough. Thank you
but goodbye!" She quickly climbed off the armchair and flung the door open.
"Bother! I jest made jade tea an' rock cakes a' now whad'm'I s'posed ta
do wit 'em?"
She stopped mid-step halfway through the doorway. "Jade tea? Rock cakes?
Are those just names for normal food or are those something I can eat?" She
was quite hungry for the caretaker had interrupted her meal.
He chuckled to himself and poured a brilliant green tea into a tae'dae
sized stone teacup before handing it on a saucer to her. "A'course, a'course,
here, sip this here tea. Made o' prime tea leaves an' teeny crushed jade.
'Twas mah great-granpappy's recipe as well. Feel free ta eat tha cup."
Lapida returned to her seat and accepted the drink. "Thank you, sir. No
one has ever showed me such kindness before. All the others do is make fun of
me for my lack of fur, my tastes in food, and the fact that no guild would ever
accept someone as ugly as me. And that black foxkin is the worst of them all!"
Her beady grey eyes filled with hot tears again, but the caretaker quickly
fetched a small rag for her.
"Dun say tha'! Guildmasters see potential in ev'rybody, an' I kin say
ye're full o' potential. Wha's yer name, missy? Ye dun hafta tell me if'n ye
dun wanna. Mah name's Gilm." He a stone box off of a shelf on the far wall
and opened it revealing several small cakes of earth studded with various
gemstones. "'Ere, 'ave some rock cakes. Gems're like 'oney to ye rock-kin,
no?"
Willingly accepting the box, Lapida thanked him and took a bite out of
one. "Wow! These are really good! What would a tae'dae like you be doing
with food for rock-kin though? Does that mean there are more of us?"
"'Course there're more o' ye! How'd ye like tha cakes? Made o' earth
from tha bottom o' tha Inner Sea. Use ta be tha fav'rit o' one rock-kin I
knew. She would munch 'em all day." He stared down into the burning hearth
and got a faraway look on his eyes.
"Mmph, who was this rock-kin?" Lapidia asked with her mouth still full.
He did not reply immediately but continued to stare at the fire. After a
long pause, he muttered, "Sacksa Honeyberry." As soon as he said the name a
heavy downpour began thumping on the hut's thatched roof. Small holes dripped
water into buckets and pans already positioned to catch them. The old
caretaker looked up at the straw of his roof and shook his head. "I need ta'
fix tha one o' these days. I reckon 'tis time fer bed now. Ye can take mah
bed, I'll sleep in tha greenhouse on tha mulch."
"Thank you, Mr. Gilm, sir." Lapidia had been sleeping in a small cave on
the side of Avechna's Teeth, the nearby mountain range, and was grateful for
any soft cloth she could find. She climbed into bed as her host put on his
oilskin tunic and exited the hut. She attempted to sleep for a few minutes but
the constant drip, drip of the leaking raindrops into the assorted containers
prevented any peaceful rest. With a sigh, Lapidia threw off her covers and
looked about for a spare bit of straw to plug the holes. In the far corner was
a pile of hay in a small chest which she assumed Gilm was going to use for
fixing the roof. Grabbing a handful of hay, she was surprised when felt
something cold and hard brush across her hand. Lying there amongst the straw
was a small brooch of honor in the shape of the Great Honeysap Tree awarded to
a Sacksa Stonefur for collecting the most power in a year. Lapidia muttered to
herself, "But Sacksa, Gilm said your name was Honeyberry." She lifted the
brooch to her eye to get a closer look at it, and directly underneath it was a
matching brooch in recognition of Great Chieftain Gilmreth Honeyberry for
collecting the most power in the year previous to Sacksa's. The truth finally
dawned on her. "Sacksa and Glim were married!? Gilm was Great Chieftain?! I
wonder what happened to her to make Gilm so distant when thinking about her."
Still thinking about Sacksa and Gilm, she carefully plugged each leaking
hole in the roof while standing on a stool. As she replaced the excess hay she
did not use in the box, her curiosity got the better of her and she reached her
hand down as far as it would go into the hay and grasped something cold that
immediately turned warm. Intrigued, she pulled it up and there in her hand was
a silvery blue wiccan athame of the Lakewood Coven. A she carefully fingered
examined the ceremonial instrument and there etched in script on the blade was
"High Priestess Sacksa Honeyberry." Even more surprised than before, she
dropped the athame and gasped. "A rock-kin like you could be High Priestess!"

She picked up the athame again and gripped it resolutely. "I will gain
respect like you did, Sacksa, and no one will make fun of me for not having
fur. If you do not mind, High Priestess, I shall take your surname and
eventually your position for you have inspired me." She sat down, still
staring at the athame in her hand and thanked Sacksa and every other ancestral
spirit of which she knew. She then carefully returned the athame to the bottom
of the hay and went back to bed ready to speak thoroughly with Gilm in the
morning.
When she woke and went to look at the athame once more she saw the name on
the blade no longer read "High Priestess Sacksa Honeyberry" but "Seeker Lapidia
Stonefur, Lake Droplet."