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Welcome to Get Sleepy, where we listen, we relax, and we get sleepy.
I'm your host Thomas, thanks so much for listening.
Tonight, we'll be visiting a magical town where a young apprentice mage is learning to make candles.
A big thanks to MJ for writing this tale, and to Chloe, who'll be reading it for us.
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Tomorrow night, in our weekly premium bonus episode, we'll join a man named Yuto for a day of adventure as he paraglides through the skies high above the island of Tenerife.
I'll be reading that one, so I hope to speak to you tomorrow night.
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Thank you so much for your support.
Now then, before we begin our story in a special, magical place, we'll wait for the sun to rise over the town.
So make sure you're comfortable.
Take a couple of slow, deep breaths, enjoying the calming release of the exhale.
And once you're settled, Imagine a picturesque town with cobblestone streets and beautiful little cottages and shops.
An orange light begins to rise in the east.
With the warm embrace of the morning sun, the coolness of the night is chased away.
Gentle light bathes the little town.
As the sun inches up the horizon, dew on the grass and leaves begins to sparkle as the magical warming light shines between trees and slips down the quiet streets.
Wisps of fog dance and disappear.
The sky turns from orange and purple into a brilliant blue.
Even as the town begins to wake up, The gentle buzz of activity is just as soothing as the quiet of morning.
And now, let's join Shalewise, an apprentice mage who's pondering the intricacies of candle magic.
This is where our story begins.
Candle magic isn't flashy like other arcane arts.
Enchantments dazzle and shimmer, elemental magic sparks and fizzes, and transformation magic snaps.
Suddenly, a pigeon is a cat.
With candle magic, you need to know the chandler, or candle maker, it came from.
Otherwise, you'd never know a candle was infused with a spell.
Shalewise wonders at this as he watches a beekeeper mage wave his hand.
A purplish, glittering smoke washes over the hive and the buzz quietens, at least from one of the dozens of hives in the apiary.
Bees flit back down into the hive or simply find a comfortable place on the mage's robes to take a quick nap.
The mage smiles to himself as he carefully pulls one of the frames out of the hive.
Sleepy, grumpy bees skitter around.
The maid gently taps the frame, letting the sleepy bees split off back to their home to rest.
Lost in thought.
Shalewise jumps a little when one of the apprentices pops her head out from under the desk.
The apprentice is a young girl with dark hair and dark brown skin.
She asks Shellwise how many he's after today.
Four, please, he says.
Her arms flex as she hauls the big golden yellow bars of wax down off a shelf, one at a time.
Each bar of wax is about the length of her forearm.
The girl watches amused as Shellwy sets them gently into a huge satchel which almost hangs down to the floor by the time it's loaded up.
As payment, Shalewise slides a box of sleep candles across the counter.
They're a favorite of the head beekeeper mage.
Then, Shalewise heads out into the streets of Offrian.
The library city of Offrian is bustling with scholars.
Mages coming and going from the colleges or the great arcane library.
A bunch of law mages in long silver robes stand on a corner debating the improper use of shield spells.
Nearby a handsome bard with locks of dark hair tied up prettily and a brilliant white smile expertly strums a harp.
People clamber to throw coins into his hat.
But Shalewise gives him a wide berth.
He barely has enough silver for his favorite broadsheet about night's adventures which is coming out on the weekend.
Shalewise walks on through the town.
A tanned, freckled woman with strawberry blonde hair and a wolf almost as big as she is ambles down the main street.
She's probably a druid, in town for a lunar ceremony.
Ophrian is full of mages from every walk of life.
And there are townsfolk mages or not going about their business, keeping the town running smoothly.
That's not always easy.
Often, mischievous enchanted chairs will slip out from underneath the unwary.
Or sometimes, you give a dog an ear scratch, and he transforms into a disgruntled mage.
Or else a drink of your favorite juice turns you purple.
That happened to Shalewise once.
It only lasted a day, but now he studies any juice he's offered with a cautious eye.
There's a reason why they call them magic tricks, Marion always says.
Shalewise loves living in Offrian, but he also finds the bustle and noise a little overwhelming.
That's why he likes Marion's chandlery.
It's calm and quiet there.
No flashy, noisy, tricksy magic.
Shalewise waves to the alchemist as he passes by her shop.
He rounds the corner to the sunny street he moved to about a year ago on his eleventh birthday.
At the end of the street, on the left, is a shop with an old wooden sign.
A candle is painted in pearly white and the light in gold.
Little wisps of painted smoke form the words Marion the Chandler.
Hello, Marion, Shalewise calls out.
He heads past the shelves stocked with candles and past the shop desk.
Usually he'd be sitting there when he's not running errands for the Chandler or helping her clean and tidy things.
But today, he heads straight into the workshop.
Today...
He'll be making magic candles.
The workshop is a magical place in itself.
At least, Shalewise thinks so.
There's the pleasant musty smell of wax everywhere and the decades of wood smoke that have seeped into the walls.
And there are subtle scents from fragrance oils which Marion sometimes adds to bolster the magic effects.
Lavender for calm, and citrus and camphor to chase off bugs.
Magic changes a place, too.
Years of Marion's gentle spells have woven into the fabric of the workshop.
Sometimes sunlight streaming through the door will make Shalewise's head nod in drowsiness, or else make him feel like he could tackle any task.
Light catches the wisps of old spells.
By the time Marion has tottered in, Shalewise is already stoking the fire in the enormous hearth.
The brick-lined hearth is big enough that he can stand inside it when there's not a fire lit, of course.
Marion's lavender robes swish as she pulls her snow-white hair up into a messy bun.
She gives Shellwise a gentle pat on the head, then grabs the kettle off the shelf.
On the same shelf is a big cauldron, which Shalewise hauls down.
Marion claims the big, cast-iron cauldron is as old as she is.
It's got small dents along the rim and the handle's been used so much that the coating has flaked off to reveal the cool grey metal beneath.
The inside is shiny from use. while the outside is scarred and mottled from age.
It's big enough that Shalewise has to cradle it in both arms and waddle over to the hearth, where he lowers the thick handle onto its holder.
When the kettle's boiled, Marion pours them both a cup of fragrant chamomile.
Shalewise has to suppress a smile as he watches Marion's thin, wrinkly hands wrap around the ceramic mug.
Her skin is thin, like old parchment paper, and spotted by time.
But he's always found her hands strangely beautiful.
Not just the way they look.
But the way she moves them, graceful and flowing like a conductor directing a band.
She makes picking up a mug look like an enchantment spell.
She blows once over the top of the mug, takes a small sip, then smiles and looks up at Shalewise.
Now, Marion says, let's make some candles.
Together.
They get all the supplies out, putting them on the big wooden table in the middle of the workshop.
A couple of balls of wick, string scissors, a few wooden spoons, a mold and a little cup to scoop up the wax.
Marion tuts that they're forgetting something and shale-wise runs over to the bag he left by the doorway.
They need wax, of course.
Walk me through it.
Love, says Marion as she helps Shellwise lift the heavy sack of wax bricks onto the table.
First, we melt the wax.
Shalewise explains.
He slides one of the bricks of beeswax out of the bag, smiling as he holds the weighty golden yellow brick in both hands.
These are going to be his candles.
And this is what he moved to Offrian for.
To study with Marion, and to become a candle mage.
He glances up and realizes that Marion's beaming down at him.
With the brick in his hands, he skitters over to the cauldron.
Once the brick is lying inside, he pushes the cauldron so it hangs over the fire.
The room begins to fill with the soft, sweet, and musky smell of melting beeswax.
Shalewise grabs a spoon and starts to prod at the wax as it melts, the fire crackling merrily underneath.
We want the wax to melt, he says, but not to boil or hiss.
The wax blackens if it gets too hot.
We also want to charge the wax with a setting spell.
Marion nods her head encouragingly when he looks at her.
Then he turns back to the cauldron and takes a deep breath.
Shalewise holds his fingers out over the cauldron.
He traces an enchantment symbol over the large pot. and mutters the incantation.
He feels the spell beneath his hand as if it was liquid hanging off his fingers, dancing around without ever dripping down.
Shalewise pulls the spell around and lets it release.
He can feel it slipping into the cauldron as the wax melts.
He finishes the incantation.
The spell is part of the wax now, as he stirs the viscous liquid with the spoon.
He grins as he puts a loose cover over the cauldron rim.
He did it right, his first try.
Shale Wise and Marion keep an eye on the wax as it melts to a shimmering golden liquid.
Meanwhile, they prepare the wick strings.
Shalewise holds the strings up to the mold.
Two metal plates are connected by six long, thin tubes.
The wick should be as long as we want the candle to be, says Shalewise, plus about six inches.
Since they have far too much wax for Shalewise's six candles...
He helps Marion prepare a half-dozen molds with their own wicks.
One mold would be sleeping candles, like the ones the head beekeeping mage swears by.
The other will be concentration candles for the mage scholars.
Another set will be candles that ward off nightmares and another an alarm spell for people out in the wild.
For every spell that Marion could dream up, there's a mold for her helpful, practical magical candles.
When they have all their strings ready...
Shalewise goes over to the cauldron and lifts the lid, nodding.
He takes the fire poker and uses it to swing the large pot off the fire, feeling the golden melted beeswax sloshing with the momentum.
For now, they can leave the wax to be kept warm by the ambient heat on the bottom of the cauldron.
They can always warm it up again later, if they need to.
Next, says Shellwise, we dip the wicks in the wax and straighten them with our fingers.
Marion helps him.
One at a time, she hands him the hemp string wicks that he cut.
ShaleWise carefully lowers the wicks into the pot, letting the thick liquid coat them in wax, while leaving the ends dry.
Next...
They lay the wicks down on some cheesecloth, which covers the big wooden table.
And they make sure the wax-coated string is nice and straight.
Then, Shalewise helps Marion do the same thing with the dozens of wicks she's prepared.
It feels good to be working beside her like this.
He spent the last year mostly running errands helping her clean, preparing the materials and keeping shop.
Now he'll be able to help her with the simpler magic candles as he learns more and more about how to be a candle mage.
Thank you, dear, says Marion.
What's next?
Shalewise reverently picks up the mold he's going to be using.
The mold is open on one end, with six holes that he'll be pouring the wax into.
The other end has much smaller openings, barely large enough to spool the wicks through.
Now we're going to string the wicks through the bottom of the mold and tie them off.
Shale Wise explains.
He picks up the first wick, expertly slipping it through the small hole at the bottom.
Once he's made sure there's some extra length coming out the top opening, he ties off the string.
Then, he picks up a little chunk of partially melted beeswax that dripped onto the cheesecloth.
He runs it between his fingers until it's soft and moldable.
And now, he says, we seal the bottom with balls of wax.
With some sticks from Marion's garden they tie the other end of the wicks coming up through the top.
The sticks are used to hold the wicks straight.
Shalewise needs a little help to make sure they're taut.
Then, he helps Marion do the same with her molds.
String goes through.
Make sure there's some extra length, tie it off and seal with a ball of wax.
Then tie the other end to a stick so the wicks are standing up straight.
They do this over and over again until they have a bunch of molds standing upright in front of them, ready for wax and magic.
What spell are we thinking for your candles, Shale?
The apprentice scrunches up his mouth in thought.
I know it's easy, he says, but I want to try a calming spell.
Marion nods sagely.
Parents of newborns will be very thankful for them, she says.
But calming candles can be used for more than that.
If someone's frightened by thunder, maybe they light one during a storm.
You'll never know all the ways that something simple you do can help other people.
And just because something is small and simple doesn't mean it helps them any less.
Shalewise nods back, feeling his face going red at Marion's kind words.
She's quiet, like him, so whenever she speaks, it always feels important.
He appreciates her encouragement.
Shalewise takes another deep breath, then walks over to the cauldron with one of the cups for wax.
He dips it in carefully. then turns back to the table where his mold awaits him.
This is the moment of truth.
This is when he'll truly make magic happen.
He holds his hand over the mold and begins to whisper the incantation for his calming spell, while slowly and carefully pouring the wax in.
As he feels the warm, tingling energy clinging to his hand, he twists his wrist slightly.
So the wax catches the spell.
Over and over again, he murmurs the incantation.
It's hard work, concentrating on the spell as he pours the golden liquid of the melted wax over the top of the mold, slowly filling each of the tubes.
When he's done...
He huffs in exhaustion.
It takes practice to be able to hold spells for a long time.
But Marion leans down and studies the mold with a practiced eye.
Then she looks at him, beaming.
The spell took.
He's tired, but can barely contain his excitement.
Except they now have to wait for the wax to dry before they can finish the candles.
So, Shalewise helps Marion with her line of moulds.
She makes it look easy, one hand drawing symbols in the air above the molds, as she whispers the incantations in her quiet sing-song voice.
Shalewise runs back and forth between the cauldron and Marion.
He makes sure she always has a fresh cup of melted wax ready to be poured into the molds as she casts her spells.
Finally, she finishes the last, and they both let out a contented sigh.
Marion says it's time for lunch.
When they return from sharing sandwiches in the garden, the candles are ready for the next step.
Normally it would take the whole day just to wait for the wax to settle, but they're helped along by a little enchantment on each of the molds, which makes the work slightly quicker.
Shalewise stokes the fire again, tossing on a couple of fresh logs.
He hauls the cauldron back over the fire until the remaining wax melts.
Then they do another round on each of the molds to fill in any hollow centers.
Since the wax runs down the sides of the molds and begins cooling instantly, there's sometimes a little hollow space to be filled up by more wax.
More cups of liquid gold, more incantations.
And then Marion coaches Shalewise through the final incantation to seal the spell into the candle, only to be activated by the gentle burn of a flame.
Then he watches her do the same with hers.
His whole body is exhausted, but he feels the warm, buoyant feeling of accomplishment.
He did it.
He made his first batch of magical candles.
By the time they're done, the sky outside is changing from blue to orange and pink.
This calls for a cup of tea, Marion says as she grabs the kettle.
Shalewise doesn't know if he'll be able to stay awake long enough to enjoy it, as he's worn out by the work and concentration.
But he washes out their mugs from earlier. and brings her the tea strainers.
They carefully cut the knots on the end of Shellwise's mold.
Then, Marion uses the leftover hot water from the kettle to fill a big bowl.
Shale-wise lowers the mold into the water and counts to thirty.
Then he sets the mold down and gently, delicately, pulls out the candles.
They've been softened slightly by the hot water.
He lays the candles out on the table, smiling from ear to ear.
But before we enjoy some tea, says Marion, I would like to be your first customer.
She places a coin in Shalewise's hand.
He looks at it, then looks up at her and throws himself against her in a tight hug, tears of happiness welling in his eyes.
She places his candle on a holder, and he carries their mugs out to the garden.
Normally, Shalewise loves reading his magic theory out here.
The small patio with a couple of comfortable outdoor chairs looks out over the river that runs through town.
The bustle of Ophrian feels gentler, as magical lamps begin to flare to life in the dusk, bathing the town in a soft twilight glow.
As Marion lights one of Shale Wise's magic candles, he feels a calming, subtle warmth wash over his body.
He slowly lifts the cup of tea, blows across it once, takes a sip and then sets it down, feeling his head nodding to his chest.
The last thing he remembers is smiling drowsily when Marion tells him that he's a candle mage now.
Shalewise the Chandler Thanks for watching!
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