Ariana's Story

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Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme,
The story of Ariana Rhiannon.
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,
Remember me to one who lives there,
She once was a true love of mine.
Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,
Without no seam nor needlework.
Then she’ll be a true love of mine.
Tell her find me an acre of land,
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,
Between the salt water and the sea strand,
Then she’ll be a true love of mine.
Tell her reap it in a sickle of leather,
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,
And to gather it all in a bunch of heather.
Then she’ll be a true love of mine.
Ariana Rhiannon flew over the rolling green hills on white-feathered wings. Unlike the countryside where she’d grown up, this land was lush and long cultivated. The hills below were a patchwork of different shades of green, divided by piled stone walls and rough wooden fences. Sheep or cattle grazed contentedly in some, while neat rows of crops grew in others. Here and there a modest farmhouse stood, and narrow, winding dirt roads led between them.
It was quiet country, and just then it looked like something near to heaven to her. She was on her way home from the southern desert where she and her fellow adventurers had been tracking a murderous mage. She had seen her fill of bleak, barren land, and had had more than enough of darkness, death, despair and violence. Of course she would return when she was next called upon to right some wrong, she knew that, but for the moment she was very glad that the whole affair was over and done with.
She was still passing over farmland when the sun dipped down near the horizon. Best start looking for somewhere to spend the night, she thought to herself. She selected a farmhouse below at random and dropped down out of the sky. She landed in the road in front of the neatly kept yard and entered through the gate, not wanting to startle anyone who might be inside by landing on their very doorstep. She made her way up a paved walk to the door and knocked. When no one answered she waited a few minutes and knocked again, but there was still no response. She shrugged and turned to go when a voice said, “Oh! Hello! Sorry I didn’t hear you knock.”
She turned to see a sandy-haired man with cheerful blue eyes standing by the corner of the house. “I was just finishing up a bit of work in the garden,” he said. “How can I help you?” She noticed him sizing her up, his eyes darting from her fire-orange hair, to her white wings, and taking as well the sword at her hip and the light coat of mail she wore.
“I’m looking for somewhere to stay the night. I don’t know the area well enough to be sure of finding someplace with an inn before dark, so I was hoping someone around here might put me up.”
“You’d be welcome to stay here,” the man said. “We’ve several spare rooms since all my siblings moved out.”
“Thank you very much. I’m Ariana, by the way.”
“Jonathan,” he replied. “Quite pleased to meet you.” And he stepped forward, holding out a big, calloused hand. Ariana took it, her own grip firm and her hands just as rough as his, though her calluses came from sword work rather than farm work. “My mother’s about to put on dinner, and if you don’t mind plain country fare I’m sure there’s room for one more.” He winked cheerfully as he ushered her inside. “Mother still forgets sometimes she doesn’t have all my hungry brothers here to feed these days.”
“Thank you again,” said Ariana. “I have to admit a real meal would be quite welcome. I’ve been eating my own cooking for the last few days, and I’m afraid it leaves something to be desired.” Especially since half the time I don’t bother to actually cook my dinner, she thought to herself with a smile. There are advantages to being half firecat after all. But I think I’d just “weird out” this farmer, as Dad puts it, if I told him that I frequently have my dinner raw.

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Page 1
Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme, The story of Ariana Rhiannon. Are you going to Scarborough Fair? Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme, Remember me to one who lives there, She once was a true love of mine. Tell her to make me a cambric shirt, Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme, Without no seam nor needlework. Then she’ll be a true love of mine. Tell her find me an acre of land, Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme, Between the salt water and the sea strand, Then she’ll be a true love of mine. Tell her reap it in a sickle of leather, Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme, And to gather it all in a bunch of heather. Then she’ll be a true love of mine. Ariana Rhiannon flew over the rolling green hills on white-feathered wings. Unlike the countryside where she’d grown up, this land was lush and long cultivated. The hills below were a patchwork of different shades of green, divided by piled stone walls and rough wooden fences. Sheep or cattle grazed contentedly in some, while neat rows of crops grew in others. Here and there a modest farmhouse stood, and narrow, winding dirt roads led between them. It was quiet country, and just then it looked like something near to heaven to her. She was on her way home from the southern desert where she and her fellow adventurers had been tracking a murderous mage. She had seen her fill of bleak, barren land, and had had more than enough of darkness, death, despair and violence. Of course she would return when she was next called upon to right some wrong, she knew that, but for the moment she was very glad that the whole affair was over and done with. She was still passing over farmland when the sun dipped down near the horizon. Best start looking for somewhere to spend the night, she thought to herself. She selected a farmhouse below at random and dropped down out of the sky. She landed in the road in front of the neatly kept yard and entered through the gate, not wanting to startle anyone who might be inside by landing on their very doorstep. She made her way up a paved walk to the door and knocked. When no one answered she waited a few minutes and knocked again, but there was still no response. She shrugged and turned to go when a voice said, “Oh! Hello! Sorry I didn’t hear you knock.” She turned to see a sandy-haired man with cheerful blue eyes standing by the corner of the house. “I was just finishing up a bit of work in the garden,” he said. “How can I help you?” She noticed him sizing her up, his eyes darting from her fire-orange hair, to her white wings, and taking as well the sword at her hip and the light coat of mail she wore. “I’m looking for somewhere to stay the night. I don’t know the area well enough to be sure of finding someplace with an inn before dark, so I was hoping someone around here might put me up.” “You’d be welcome to stay here,” the man said. “We’ve several spare rooms since all my siblings moved out.” “Thank you very much. I’m Ariana, by the way.” “Jonathan,” he replied. “Quite pleased to meet you.” And he stepped forward, holding out a big, calloused hand. Ariana took it, her own grip firm and her hands just as rough as his, though her calluses came from sword work rather than farm work. “My mother’s about to put on dinner, and if you don’t mind plain country fare I’m sure there’s room for one more.” He winked cheerfully as he ushered her inside. “Mother still forgets sometimes she doesn’t have all my hungry brothers here to feed these days.” “Thank you again,” said Ariana. “I have to admit a real meal would be quite welcome. I’ve been eating my own cooking for the last few days, and I’m afraid it leaves something to be desired.” Especially since half the time I don’t bother to actually cook my dinner, she thought to herself with a smile. There are advantages to being half firecat after all. But I think I’d just “weird out” this farmer, as Dad puts it, if I told him that I frequently have my dinner raw.
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