“ You have to create solutions so the problem doesn’t drown the potential.”-Nimbella, The Water Witch

The Wanderer

The rain thundered on as Thistle attempted to save the last of the vegetables in her rapidly flooding garden.

It was loud enough that she couldn’t hear much—just the splashing, the pitter-patter, and the aggressive, progressive downpour.

That was until she heard a cry.

“Oh no!” a voice exclaimed in the distance, close to her watering well. Thistle rushed, all of her hair standing on edge, to make sure she reached the emergency in time.

Everything had been so tense lately, ever since the rain had continued well past the length of the usual storm.

The residents in the Glade had all but lost their gardens. There had been so many horrible defeats—things that made Thistle wish she could banish the water, make it go away, or destroy it. If she could combust wood instead of mending it together, if she had the power to get rid instead of grow, maybe she’d be able to make enough fire to burn the water back into the clouds.

And there was really no end in sight.

Thistle, trudging through the mud, made it to the well to find a cloaked visitor kneeling beside it, staring sadly at a broken rod in her hand.

“My! What are you doing out in this rain?” Thistle called.

“I’m a water witch,” the visitor said. “Rain is kind of my thing. But this time it has broken my poor, dear dowsing rod.”

She held the rod up in dismay. Her long antennae twitched slightly. “Now I’m gonna have to find and enchant a new one. And I’ve had this one for ages. It’s about as old as me… we’ve done so much together”

“Oh boy… Would I be able to-” Thistle responded, reaching out a hand. “If I may?”

Thistle was happy for a problem she could actually fix in the midst of so many she hadn’t been able to. She gently grabbed the dowsing rod from the wandering water witch’s hands and closed her eyes, petitioning the wood as she held it in place. In an instant, she had mended it together again.

This act of growth magic stopped the witch briefly—a pause, a recognition now showing on her face.

“You must be the Guardian… are you Thistle Rose?”

Thistle blushed slightly. “Yes, that’s me. Though it hasn’t been feeling so much like I’ve been guarding much lately,” she said, as she handed the dowsing rod back.

The water witch simply smiled. “Well, you certainly helped me out. My dowsing rod’s good as new. Maybe better. I can’t thank you enough”

Thistle smiled softly, but inside she was conflicted. Though she felt helpful now, she hadn’t all week.

“Sorry,” the witch added. “I suppose it’s only fair. If I already knew your name, then you should know mine. My name is Nimbella. I’ve been dowsing the Glade for many years. The people around the Glade call me Doodlebug, because of my rain scribing. When I see the signs of rain, I’ll write them in the dirt with my dowsing rod and let the rain wash away whatever I haven’t already notated.”

“A rain scribe! Wait! You said that dowsing rod is as old as you are… Are you the historian that wrote the story of the rain from before?”

Nimbella nodded calmly. “I have written about every storm here for the last 200 years. Yes, of course. It seems like you have a book of mine in your library.”

“I have so much to ask you! I-” A thunderclap cracked above them, interrupting her.

“I’ll make you some tea,” Thistle concluded. “It would be better to go somewhere less noisy!”

Inside the cottage, Thistle was able to get a better look at Nimbella’s features. Because of her hard outer skin, it was hard to tell her age. She resembled the water bugs that skirted across ponds in the Glade, with large, dark eyes that looked like a night full of clouds.

Her long antennae sensed moisture in the air—which was quite useful, because of her powers. She was an aquamancer—a creature capable of moving water.

“How do you do that?” Thistle asked in amazement, as she watched Nimbella move water from the pitcher into the kettle, the droplets dancing across the cottage from the table into the hearth.

“I speak, and the water listens. I figure it’s similar to your growth magic in some ways.”

“Yeah…” Thistle trailed off.

She was deep in thought. She had so many questions for the author of the book—especially questions about the Glade itself and how it had survived.

However, every time she attempted to ask, the words would get caught in her throat. The questions suffocated her for fear of the answer.

Thistle had already read the book and yet still underestimated the severity of the storm. This lack of confidence had become a persistent problem and brought about a shame because of the inaction. What Guardian has a feeling that they don’t immediately act on? Why did she let herself get so comfortable that she didn’t already prepare for the imminent threat? Better yet, why didn’t she know for sure the threat was coming in the same way someone like Nimbella would?

Nimbella sensed a shift in Thistle’s mood.

“What’s on your mind, Guardian?” she asked slowly.

“A lot, I’ll admit,” Thistle replied cautiously. “Truthfully… I’ve been thinking a lot about the story of the last time it rained so fiercely—and your words: ‘abundant growth.’ At first, they gave me peace. But now… now they give me pause. I have so many questions, because of how devastating the storm is.”

Thistle took a deep breath, deciding. “I have to ask. Have the storms before ever gotten this bad? The one you wrote about—was it this severe?”

Nimbella looked away, turning her attention to the hearth and making sure the kettle was properly replaced. When she looked back, Thistle couldn’t ignore the worry in her expression.

“Now,” Nimbella began gently, “like I said, I don’t mind helping out a Guardian… however…”

She hesitated.

“Even for a water witch, this storm has proven… Formidable. Before, the rains were harsh—but nothing we couldn’t weather. Of course, that was before all the residents, and their houses, the roads and blossoming gardens. The first rains allowed for enough abundance to get people started—helped them make things how they are today. The rains thereafter helped the flowers grow. But…”

She looked at Thistle carefully.

“I fear the elements may be too strong for the Glade to handle on its own this time.”

Every muscle in Thistle’s body tightened, and the butterflies in her stomach that had been fluttering nervously since the start of the storm turned to lead.

She stared anxiously out the window at the flooding water and the rain as it pounded the trees, causing them to dance in a violent, anxious way.

She felt a lump form in her throat—like a frog trying to swallow a too-large cricket.

“I see,” was all she could manage to croak.

Nimbella’s face softened as she saw the young Guardian’s anxiety. She crossed the room, placing a hand gently on Thistle’s shoulder.

“Luckily, we have something now that we didn’t have before. A Guardian! Here for the whole community. And one who I know is capable of leading us through it.”

At this, the water finally began to pour from Thistle’s eyes. It’s funny how a water witch has the ability to dowse the water out of anything, including a scared and shaking Guardian sitting on her cottage couch. She was able to find the fears inside of Thistle, the ones she buried deep below, the same way that she was able to find groundwater under hard soil.

Thistle finally let out a small sob. Tiny tears began running down her cheeks.

“I sure hope we do,” she whispered, “but I don’t know what to do.”

She began again, fighting through the tears.

“I don’t think I can fix it. I wish I could destroy the rain, but all I can do is make things grow. Usually, there isn’t something I can’t fix… but I’ve never had a problem that needed me to destroy. Instead, I…”

A thunderclap boomed overhead, making her shrink into herself even more.

“But I believe,” Nimbella said gently, “this is something that needs mending… not more destruction.”

Thistle thought on this for a second. She wiped her tears gently—before realizing Nimbella had already whisked them off her face into the hearth.

“Abundant growth,” Thistle thought. “How can something so devastating still allow for roots to form?”

And at that, she finally understood.

The Glade wasn’t strong enough. But that wasn’t an absolute—that could be changed. The Glade could be stronger.

“I have to reinforce the land,” she whispered, looking up slowly to meet Nimbella’s large, dark eyes.

“Exactly,” Nimbella said. “And who better to lead the Glade than someone who understands growth? Who understands creation? You have to create solutions so the problem doesn’t drown the potential.”

And with that… the kettle began to sing.

🥧Shepherd’s Pie 🥔

Savory lamb meets smooth potatoes

Recipe:

Recipe Information

Total Time: ~1 hour (plus resting time)
Skill Level: Intermediate
Category: Feasts & Forager’s Pockets – Savory Pastries and Pies

🥗 Dietary Information

✅ Can be made Lactose-Free (with Gouda or sharp cheddar)
✅ Can be made Gluten-Free (with GF flour and mashed potato mix)
✅ Can be made Vegetarian/Vegan (with meat and dairy substitutes)

⚠ Potential Sensitivities

• 🐑 Contains Lamb (swap for plant-based meat if needed)
• 🧈 Contains Dairy (cheese, butter, and mashed potatoes)
• 🌾 Contains Gluten (flour; swap for GF option)
• 🍷 Contains Alcohol (red wine used to deglaze; sub tart cherry juice if avoiding)

🌿 Ingredients

• 🌿 1 small onion, diced – For a savory foundation and grounding energy
• 🌿 2 tbsp butter – For richness and protection
• 🌿 1 lb ground lamb (or plant-based substitute) – Heart of the feast
• 🌿 Seasonings of choice – Salt, pepper, garlic powder, paprika, etc.
• 🌿 Splash of red wine or tart cherry juice – To deepen and deglaze
• 🌿 Rosemary (recommended herb) – For memory, warmth, and tradition
• 🌿 2–4 tbsp flour – To bind into a hearty, pie-friendly texture
• 🌿 1½–2 cups stew vegetables (frozen mix works great) – Color, comfort, and strength
• 🌿 2 cups mashed potatoes (instant or homemade; any flavor you like) – A blanket of softness
• 🌿 2–3 slices of cheese (Gouda or sharp cheddar, lactose-free preferred) – For melt and flavor pull

🔪 Method

1. Sauté the Aromatics

• Dice the onions and add to a hot pan with butter.
• Sauté over medium-high heat until fragrant and softened.

2. Cook the Meat

• Add ground lamb (or substitute) to the pan.
• Tenderize with a meat tenderizer while cooking.
• Season generously “until you’re smoothing.”
• Once browned, deglaze the pan with red wine or tart cherry juice.

3. Add Vegetables & Thicken

• Add your frozen stew/soup vegetables.
• Sprinkle in rosemary and stir to combine.
• Once flavors are balanced, slowly stir in flour 1 tablespoon at a time until the mixture resembles a meatloaf-like paste.

4. Prepare Mashed Potatoes

• While meat mixture simmers, prepare your favorite mashed potatoes.
• Flavors like roasted garlic, cheese, or bacon pair well with the filling.

5. Assemble the Pie

• In a pie tin (no need to grease), spread the meat filling on the bottom.
• Lay slices of cheese on top of the meat.
• Spread mashed potatoes evenly over the top.

6. Bake & Set

• Bake at 350°F (175°C) for 20 minutes until the top is golden.
• Optional: broil briefly for crispier mashed potatoes.

7. Let It Rest

• Allow to cool slightly before slicing.
• For cleaner slices, refrigerate and reheat to serve.

✨ Best Enjoyed…

• When you’ve been holding back your power and need a nudge to rise
• Shared with someone who reminds you of your strength when you've forgotten
• As you gather your courage, plate in hand, preparing to lead with heart
• At the turning point of a hard season, when comfort gives way to purpose
• While the world outside feels uncertain, but the warmth inside reminds you—you’re ready