Follow Jadus and Aurora beyond the Haven Shop and into a hidden forest,
Where an ancient Clutie Well waits among the trees.
As ribbons flutter in the evening breeze,
And moonlight dances upon still water,
You'll take part in a timeless ritual of trust,
Release,
And gentle magic.
The Haven Shop is a fantasy bedtime story series that will reconnect you with your inner magic.
As you dwell in the sacred space between waking and sleep.
My name is Andrea.
And I am deeply honored to be part of your sacred bedtime ritual.
Welcome back to The Haven Shop.
Tonight,
Jen treats us to a journey inspired by the tradition of the Cludewell.
For generations,
People have visited special wells,
Hidden in forests,
Tucked beside streams,
And nestled in quiet corners of the countryside.
They would carry small pieces of cloth,
Known as clutes.
And leave them behind.
And trusting their worries to the care of the well and the passage of time.
Jen has created a way for you to experience a bit of that magic.
We hope tonight's adventure offers you the comfort of placing something into the hands of wind,
Water,
And time,
Trusting that it will be cared for while you sleep.
From here on.
The only thing you need to do.
Is relax and enjoy tonight's story.
The late afternoon sun pours through the oversized bay window of the Haven Shop.
Warm and golden.
A few dust motes catch your eye.
Drifting lazily through the air.
As if they,
Too,
Have nowhere else to be.
The shelves hum with their familiar gentle magic.
Glass jars glow with inner light.
Illuminating Rows of Dried Flowers Polished Stones,
And Carefully Labeled Teas bundles of herbs tied neatly with twine release a calm,
Earthy fragrance that settles easily into the air.
Mingling with the faint scent of candles and old books.
Even though the shop is bustling.
You feel the familiar calm that comes every time you're here.
Voices remain soft and unhurried.
Weaving together like a distant melody.
You hear the chimes above the door.
Sing gently,
As another patron enters.
The newcomer pauses for a moment on the threshold.
Their shoulders relaxing almost immediately.
You can see by their expression that they feel it too,
That curious sense of comfort that seems to greet everyone who crosses into the Haven Shop.
For a few moments,
You simply allow yourself to be here.
You admire the way the sunlight pools across the floorboards.
You listen to the gentle creak of the old building.
As it settles around you.
You notice the comforting warmth of the room.
And the steady rhythm of life unfolding all around you.
There is nowhere else you need to be,
Nothing you need to accomplish.
No demands.
Just this quiet moment.
Held gently within the shop's welcoming walls.
Today,
However.
You haven't come to browse the shelves or discover a new tea blend.
You haven't come seeking books.
Herbs,
Or any magical curiosities.
Something's been resting on your mind for a while now.
Like so many others who've found their way here.
You have come to seek the Sister Witch's quiet guidance.
You make your way to the counter,
Resting your hands on the polished wood.
Its surface worn smooth by years of gentle use.
Somewhere in the shop,
A kettle ticks softly as it cools.
Nearby.
A candle flame flickers behind a glass lantern.
Casting tiny golden reflections across the countertop.
Jadis and Aurora emerge from the back room together.
Jadis's hair is loosely gathered at the nape of her neck.
Though a few strands have escaped,
As they always seem to do.
Beside her,
Aurora wears an earthy-colored dress that brings out the golden-green hue of her eyes.
When they spot you,
Their expressions brighten.
With quiet recognition.
Welcome back.
Jada says warmly.
You've arrived at the perfect time.
Aurora adds with a smile.
We have something rather special for you today.
Their expressions are gentle and attentive,
As though they are already listening for what you haven't yet found words to say.
Jadis carries a shallow wooden tray,
Balanced easily in her hands.
For a moment,
You expect the familiar comforts of tea.
Cups.
Herbs.
Or something warm to hold.
But instead.
.
.
You find yourself pausing.
Sensing that whatever they have brought carries a different kind of intention.
The sisters come to stand behind the counter,
Side by side.
With the easy confidence of those who belong exactly where they are.
Together.
They are caretakers of this magical place,
Guardians of its countless stories,
And steady keepers of the quiet reassurance that has drawn so many visitors through the Haven Shop stores.
And standing before them now.
You cannot help but feel that you have come to exactly the right place.
Jadus sets the tray on the counter between you.
Inside are assorted strips of fabric,
Cotton,
Linen,
And muslin.
They are cut unevenly,
Lovingly.
No two exactly the same.
Some are pale and well-worn,
Others slightly darker.
A few are scarcely more than threads.
Aurora gently touches one of the strips.
These are clutes.
She says with a smile.
You feel a flicker of confusion cross your face.
Your brows knitting slightly together as you glance from the tray back to the sister witches.
Jada smiles.
They are part of a very old tradition,
" she explains.
One that has been carried forward for generations.
In places where special wells are trusted to listen.
She reaches into the tray and lifts a small strip of linen between her fingers.
People bring a piece of cloth.
Often from something they've worn themselves.
They dip it into the water of the well.
And then tie it to a nearby branch.
As she speaks,
You begin to picture it.
Quiet well,
Tucked among the trees.
Ribbons dancing gently in the breeze.
It's a way of releasing something they no longer wish to carry.
Aurora says softly.
The sisters explain that the magic is never meant to be immediate.
There are no flashes of light.
No sudden transformations.
The true work happens slowly.
As the seasons pass.
Wind and rain gradually wear the fabric thin.
Little by little.
Thread by thread.
Whatever has been entrusted to the well.
Is carried away with it.
The cloth fades.
The burdens fade too.
And nature in its own patient way.
Finishes what you have begun.
Your attention wanders from one strip to another as you take in their meaning.
Each piece of fabric carries the memory of a tradition that has endured for generations.
A simple act of trust.
Placed into the hands of Nature and Time.
Would you like to visit the Cluede Well?
Jadus asks,
Her voice warm and inviting.
As though she already knows your answer.
A quiet sense of anticipation stirs within you.
You glance once more at the tray of clues.
Imagining them fluttering gently from tree branches beside the well.
Dancing in the breeze beneath an open sky.
The choice feels easy.
A gentle excitement settles over you as the path ahead begins to take shape.
Whatever awaits at the Clwdy well.
You find yourself eager to discover it.
And somehow.
.
.
Even before the journey has begun.
You already feel lighter.
Aurora gathers the clutes carefully.
The Cluedi Well,
She continues,
Exists in a faraway place.
But we can create a path to get you there.
Quickly and safely.
Follow us.
You don't feel surprised.
Their magic is familiar to you now.
Like the warmth of the shop's hearth.
Or the gentle chime of the front door,
Welcoming a new visitor.
Instead.
You feel the pleasant flutter of anticipation.
That always seems to appear.
When Jadus and Aurora invite you somewhere new.
A magical adventure is about to begin.
And you cannot help but smile as you follow them.
Carrying the tray between them.
Jadus and Aurora guide you away from the bustle of the shop and toward a door,
Tucked into a quiet corner.
It is a door you have noticed before,
Though you've never had reason to pass through it yourself.
Until now.
The sisters lead you inside.
The room beyond is small and cozy.
Lit by the warm glow of candles resting in wall sconces.
A round wooden table occupies the center of the room.
The walls are lined with cupboards whose contents remain mostly hidden.
And in the corner sits a cast-iron cauldron.
Still faintly warm from a spell prepared earlier in the day.
The air feels peaceful here.
Still.
As though countless spells have been whispered within these walls.
And have settled quietly into the wood and stone over the years.
The door closes softly behind you on its own.
And the room seems to settle around you.
Cozy,
And welcoming.
Aurora sets the tray down upon the table and shows you how to prepare your own clutes.
Folding one strip lengthwise,
Then rolling it loosely.
Let it stay soft.
She says.
There's no need to bind anything.
You're invited to hold the fabric.
You choose several strips from the tray and hold them in your hands.
They feel light against your fingertips.
Smooth and comforting.
Jadus guides you to take a slow breath in through your nose.
And then,
An easy breath out.
With each cycle of breath,
Your shoulders seem to settle a bit more.
The fabric rests lightly in your hands as you prepare the clutes.
Thoughts.
Hopes.
Wishes,
And intentions drift quietly through your mind.
Weaving themselves into the moment.
There is no need to say them aloud.
The sister which is never ask you to.
Some things are understood perfectly well without words.
When everything is ready.
Jadis and Aurora step back from the table.
They exchange a glance and move together.
With the familiar ease that comes from years of working side by side.
Their magic is different.
Yet when they weave it together,
It becomes something seamless and harmonious.
Like two melodies joining into a single song.
The candlelight seems to shimmer.
The air grows warm.
And slowly.
The space before them begins to change.
At first,
It is no more than a ripple.
Like sunlight dancing across the surface of water.
Then the shimmer widens.
GoldenLight.
Gathers at its edges.
And a doorway begins to take shape.
Jadus offers you a reassuring smile.
When you're ready to return,
She says,
The way home will find you.
You nod.
Gathering the clutes carefully in your hands.
You stand before the glowing portal.
You step forward.
Comforting warmth surrounds you.
The Haven Shop drifts gently behind.
Not disappearing.
Merely growing distant for a little while.
Study.
And waiting for your return.
You step fully through the portal.
For a moment,
Everything is golden light.
And the pleasant sensation of moving between one place and another.
M.
The light begins to soften.
A cool breeze brushes against your cheeks.
Carrying with it the scent of moss.
Damp earth and growing things.
The warmth of the Haven Shop slips gently into the background as the world around you comes into focus.
You find yourself standing at the edge of a lush forest.
Dusk is just beginning to settle beneath the trees,
Bathing the woods in soft shades of green and gold.
The air feels cooler here.
Fresh and peaceful.
And the ground beneath your feet.
Is cushioned with thick moss and fallen leaves.
That quiet each step,
Almost completely.
You pause for a moment,
Taking it all in.
The forest feels old in the most comforting way.
Not forgotten,
But well loved by time.
The trees rise high overhead.
Their branches,
Arching gracefully above the path before you.
And somewhere in the distance.
You can hear the faint murmur of moving water.
With the clutes gathered carefully in your hands,
You begin to walk.
You feel no need to rush.
The path winds gently through the trees.
Curving this way and that.
As though guiding you exactly where you need to go.
As you follow it.
Your attention is drawn to the pieces of cloth fluttering among the branches.
At first,
You notice only one or two.
Then dozens.
Then hundreds.
Strips of fabric hang from the surrounding trees in every direction.
Bright ribbons.
Faded scraps of linen.
Weathered threads that have danced in the wind for years.
Some still hold their color.
Others have grown pale.
Beneath countless seasons of sun and rain.
They sway softly in the evening breeze,
Creating a quiet rustling sound that seems perfectly at home among the leaves.
You slow your pace,
Taking in the beautiful sight.
Each clute was tied here by someone who came before you.
Someone who arrived,
Carrying a hope.
A wish.
A burden or a prayer?
Someone who trusted the well to receive what they were ready to release.
The thought settles warmly within you.
As you continue along the path.
Gradually,
The trees begin to thin.
The fluttering clutes become more numerous.
And at the center of it all,
The well finally comes into view.
It is simple and ancient,
Built from stones worn smooth by time and weather.
Vines curl gently around its base,
And the water within reflects the deepening sky above.
As the evening breeze moves through the clearing.
Faint ripples drift across its surface.
Catching the last traces of daylight.
And scattering them.
Like liquid silver.
Without quite realizing it,
You find yourself smiling.
For a few moments,
You simply stand at the edge of the well.
Surrounded by trees,
Draped in ribbons and memories,
Left behind by countless visitors before you.
The clearing is peaceful.
Wrapped in the gentle hush of evening.
You kneel beside the ancient stones.
And look down into the water.
The surface is still and clear,
Reflecting the trees overhead.
And the first stars beginning to appear in the deepening sky.
N.
One by one.
You dip your clutes into the well.
The fabric absorbs the cool water.
Darkening as it soaks it in.
Small ripples spread across the surface.
And drift outward.
Dissolving the weight you've been carrying.
You think of the intentions you carried with you from the shop.
The things you no longer need to hold so tightly.
Things you are ready to place in the care of the well.
You don't ask for anything.
You simply let go.
When the moment feels complete.
You rise.
And look among the branches overhead.
After a little searching,
You find the perfect place.
With gentle hands,
You tie your clutes along the many others that have come before them.
You leave them loose enough to move with the breeze.
Yet snug enough to remain among the branches.
The moment you do.
The evening breeze stirs the fabric.
Setting it swaying softly.
Your clutes move among hundreds of others.
Joining a quiet dance.
That has been unfolding here for generations.
A comforting feeling settles over you.
The ritual is complete.
There is nothing left to carry.
The well has received your offering.
And now.
.
.
The wind.
Rain.
And turning of the seasons.
We'll take care of the rest.
You stand for a little while longer.
Listening to the rustle of leaves and the soft flutter of fabric moving through the trees.
Then,
When it feels right,
You turn and begin to walk away.
You do not look back.
There is no need.
The Well will continue its quiet work,
Whether you are watching or not.
The forest seems quieter now.
The path beneath your feet feels familiar.
Each step.
Carries you deeper into a feeling of ease.
And you continue to walk.
In the comforting knowledge.
That home is already finding its way to you.
The trees grow hazy around the edges.
And the evening air becomes dreamier.
As though the forest itself.
Is beginning to settle down for the night.
Somewhere nearby.
Though you can't quite tell where.
You hear Jadus's voice.
Gentle.
And steady.
You don't have to stay awake.
Sleep will carry you the rest of the way.
You smile.
Of course it will.
Your breathing slows,
The forest fades into a blur of moonlit branches and softly fluttering ribbons.
The well remains behind you.
Patient and timeless,
Holding your intentions safely in its care.
And as the last sounds of the forest drift away,
Sleep arrives,
Quietly and gently.
Carrying you onward into the sweetest of dreams.
Good night.
