Rachel’s Discontent

The evening was slowly approaching, the normal hot and humid evening weekend that Rachel simply reviled in her steady humdrum life here amidst the castle walls. Casually gazing out the open windows of her room, she sighed not wanting to experience another boring session watching court jesters; her regard for the scribes and nobles entreating the Royal Court seeking favors, ramble on about mythical items or false solutions to the current dilemmas befalling her countries lands.
She wanted to be out with her friends, carousing with the local gentry and citizens, making merry, causing young suitors to be knotted in fits and personal pain as they pined for her affections and close attentions.
But no.
Another sad sigh, Rachel shook back the long streams of her black hair, draping them back to give her a better look at the bowl sitting before her on the table. Inside bubbling and popping in uneven burst of bubbles writhed the latest of the assignments Elder Grandela given to her this week.
“You need to control your growth skills,” she mocked in a false tenuous voice staring down at the viscous green and purple mass of goop. It really wasn’t supposed to be this way, she made a slight giggle knowing that this was purposely bad on her part.
So, a small fuddle in the tomes and spells, Rachel could not help herself from deviating from the ingredients, curious to see what would come of the change. She clasped her hands together, then slowly drew them out to her sides, eyes closing to concentrate, whispers in the old tongue calling out the verses.
A popping splat came, quickly followed by another, Rachel’s heart suddenly beating rapidly. There was the recollection of fear in her mind now, past things that needed the intervention of the elder users to stem yet again another of her ill-begotten dalliances.
She dared a slight peek letting out a gasp spotting the large mass quivering on the table. It engulfed the bowl it had been in, guggling almost asking where it was and why it was there. One of the varied mounds pulsating on its shiny surface suddenly burst sending Rachel scurrying back as the stuff splashed across the tabletop. It hissed a moment before shriveling up into a dark putrid puddle.
“Goodness, can I not give you just one simple task, Rachel my child,” called a voice from the direction of the doorway.
Rachel grimaced, knowing well who it was. A slow turn, hands pulling the folds of her dress together as she turned to face Elder Grandela. Her grey weathered eyes, always crisp and cold narrowed, lips drawn tight to one side deepening the wrinkles that lined her face.
“Uh, a small error in my ingredients,” lied Rachel.
The elder’s head shook, raspy sighs emanating from her. A slight gesture with a hand sent the blob, bowl and all straight into the hearth and fire. As a shrill cry carried through the room, Elder Grandela shuffled her way inside, the tock of her staff thumping menacingly as she approached.
“Simply irresponsible,” said the elder sage.
Rachel knew she had again disappointed her mentor. She put on her best sad face and lowered her head. “A thousand pardons, Elder,” she said low.