Mylin set out in search of the gods equipped with a book of spells she wrote down after each dream that came to her every time she fell asleep by the town river. Her decision to get up a go came after one particular dream wherein she could not understand the spell. Try and try as she might to write down the words in her mind, they came out jumbled and twisted on the page. She decided at that point that she had had enough and needed to seek more expert council than the town sage, Moreagan, who was more concerned with the town wealth than the needs of its patrons. “If these spells don’t make money,” he once told her, “then they are no good to us. We need currency to exchange for better building materials, paper, and fabric from our neighbors, not a bunch of poppycock words.” He exclaimed as he slammed his fist on the open book, creasing the binding. Mylin winced. “Why don’t you get your head out of the clouds and just settle down like a good young lady with Toreagan, he’s going to need sons to manage all those fields someday. The sooner the better!” The sage shuffled Mylin out and slammed the door. Feverently, she knocked on the door, “Mr. Sage, my book!” Suddenly the side window opened with a furry and out tossed the book out the window into the sage’s trash heap.
With two fingers, Mylin picked up her precious book of spells, shaking off a banana peel, rotting opinion slice, and rogue caterpillar clinging hungrily to the edge of the delicious pages. She glanced, embarrassed at the townsman all chuckling at her situation.
Mylin hopelessly walked back to her cabin and tossed the book on her lonesome bed in the corner and went about preparing her dinner. “How is it that my own people do not understand me? Or maybe I just don’t understand them?” Mylin sighed a heavy sigh and decided to calm herself by reciting a spell seemed fitting for the moment. “Peace may come and peace may go,” she whispered stirring her soup, “Peace may come and peace may go, echos bid me follow so, peace may come and peace may go, peace may come and peace may go, fear not the shadows of which thy not know.”
That night, unable to either fully wake or sleep, Mylin tossed and turned at the often violent images that passed through her mind screen. At dawn she was finally able to wrestle herself up and out of bed. Grogey from not having a proper nights rest, she stumbled backwards over her bedside table and landed on top her book of spells. “OUCH!” She yelled leaping up in a panic grabbing both her head (which had hit the floor) and her right hip (which fell on the book). “What could possibly have burned me?” she thought to herself as she turned wide eyed toward a glowing light illuminating her floor. Rings of light danced off the book’s cover. Mylin, carefully touched the surface with her finger. The light was hot. Puzzled she wondered how it could not catch fire, surely it was just made of leather and wood paper. She opened it carefully to find the little caterpillar had eaten a hole in the pages and built itself a cocoon safely between the covers. It’s slimy, swirly tracks marking its path danced brightly along the cover leading to the edge where it entered the safety of the pages inside.
She jumped up to the mirror to investigate the burning sensation on her back. There it was, the shape of the caterpillar’s path, burned into her skin. “If the Sage won’t help me figure this out, I must find someone who will,” she thought to herself as she set about packing her belongings.