eshacarlyle

[eshacarlyle]

Dazzling sunrise

A desert's secret beauty

None else can compare

#poetry #haiku #sunrise #I'm biased but does that really matter

[eshacarlyle]

She was a goddess born of gold and fire,

Ruling from far beyond man's mortal sight.

Her true name hidden, stories we'd conspire,

Of beautiful Queen Venus and her might.

Empires craved her glorious favour,

Needless wars of pride sought after her gaze,

And each time men drown lost to their labors,

Losing the blessings she already gave.

Bountiful love from our fellows each day;

Jurisdiction over Earth and its soil;

Animal friendship for work and for play;

And creative minds, the mundane to foil.

Destruction chases those 'filling the gauge',

Joy only settles when focus is changed.

it's monday and y'all know what that means... a weekly writing prompt!

as always, if you use this prompt, please tag us and use the hashtag #BDAprompts on your platform of choice so that we can see it, love it, and share it :)

#BDAprompts #poetry #poem #sonnet #three words #writing prompt #I meant for it to be a sort of fairy tale and it ended up being a metaphor whoops

[eshacarlyle]

I wasn't born as 'Sable Bryant'. Actually my name was Granite. I ran errands for everyone in the orc clan I lived with. It was the only way I was allowed to stay with them, or for me to get enough to eat. Everyone could clearly see I had elven blood in me- I was too lean, my features were too smooth, and my hair was too soft- and they looked at me with disgust whenever they paid enough attention to notice I was there. But I was free labor that came cheap. I lived with multiple clans the first several years of my life, being traded off or passed along when it suited someone.

I had never actually planned to run away. For a long time the thought of leaving didn't seem to exist. Until one day I was out checking animal traps and I just decided to, without ever having considered it before. It wasn't really a wise idea, I had very little in the way of survival skills. But I did; I left the trap line half-finished and picked a direction to start walking.

Those days all blur together, since I never saw them as important to remember, and I'm not sure how long I traveled, nor how far. But I always remember the day I stumbled across an odd little village in a cozy glen. I hadn't seen any kind of houses before, just the semi-portable yurts that orcs traveled with, and these particular buildings seemed especially strange to me because of their size- none of the typical peoples I had ever seen would fit comfortably in these structures.

As I got closer, I could see people milling about, and I realized each on of them was actually quite short. They scurried to and fro with great energy, saturated with a sort of permanent excitement for life. I walked onto their main street and watched everything in great confusion. I didn't notice that one of the small people had begun to follow me until he tugged on the hem of my tunic.

"Excuse me, young man. You seem quite lost, can I help you?"

I looked down at him with a perplexed expression. "What kind of people are you?"

He blinked at me, his eyes bright and looking much younger than the rest of his face. He chuckled after he processed my question, quite amused.

"Why, we're gnomes, of course. Have you never seen a gnome before?"

I shook my head. "No, sir. I've mostly ever seen orcs."

"Well, I suppose that makes some sense. What brings you this far away from their steppes?"

I shrugged. "I don't belong with orcs. I'm not one of them; they've always told me so. I decided to leave."

"Brave choice for a lad so young. What's your name, son?"

I gave him another curious look. I had never been anyone's 'son', not even my mother's. But I answered his question.

"People call me Granite."

He shook his head and tsktsked. "My my. Every time I expect orcs to become more creative, and every time I am sorely disappointed. Tell me, Granite, to you have any place specifically you're headed for?"

I shook my head.

"Would you like a warm meal and a roof to stay under tonight?"

I looked at the surrounding buildings incredulously, and he chuckled again. It was a friendly sound.

"They're probably much smaller than you're accustomed to, yes. But I'm sure it would be nice to get out of the cold of night and damp of dew, wouldn't you agree? My wife and I would be thrilled to have your company tonight."

"Uh... Okay, I guess."

I followed the odd little gnome through the streets and to his home. It was a little awkward to move about inside, but it was nice to have a proper meal and to be able to rest. I don't think I'd ever felt more rested before. When I woke the next morning, they insisted I stay for the morning meal. I was very hungry, and it wasnt as though I was in a hurry to get anywhere. I stayed too when they asked if I might be able to help with a few small errands. They day carried on like that, either meals or small requests taking my time, and before I knew it, darkness was approaching once again, and I accepted the invitation to stay another night. I had never meet such kind people, and I quite liked them. Their name was Bryant- Ketterman and Taylafel Bryant.

I always meant to eventually continue on my journey, but the longer I stayed with them, the more I realized that I had no idea where I would go, and that I had found something better than I'd even thought of right here in this cozy little village. But I didn't want to stay somewhere I wasn't wanted; I didn't want to risk any anger toward me. I told myself many times that once the Bryants didn't need my help anymore, I would leave immediately. That day never came. There was always something helpful for me to do, and they were always so kind, and I always had more than enough to eat. The longer I stayed, the less I wanted to leave.

You can imagine everyone in the village knew who I was. I was still very different from any of the people around me. But I didn't feel different anymore. But for my height, I probably could have forgotten I wasn't a gnome myself. I enjoyed helping these people, and they seemed to love having me around. And finally one day, Ketterman approached me with a question.

"Granite?" he asked. "Do you like it here? You know you could leave any time."

I had never doubted my ability to leave, but I didn't want to. I set down the book Taylafel had wanted me to practice reading and fidgeted nervously in the one chair that comfortably fit me.

"I do like it here, a lot. It's much better than living with the orcs. I think I could stay here forever." I prayed this wasn't him asking me to leave. "But I can go if you want. I know I've been in your home for a long time."

"You think you would like to stay?"

My hair had been allowed to grow out in the months I had been here, until it was long enough to braid, and I tugged on the end of it in anxiety.

"I would... But I know I'm not a gnome."

"Tosh, that doesn't mean anything. You're young, strong, and a very good-hearted boy. And you haven't got a family to look out for you. You must only be eight or nine, right? All our children have long since grown, and believe me, life as a gnome in an empty house can grow quite dull over the decades. Would you like to live here? Permanently?"

"I- perma- ... What?"

"We can work on building you a suitable place to live, and it will be done long before you're too big to fit through our door. Though, if you accept, I would have to request that we stop calling you 'Granite'. There's nothing wrong with being named after a stone, but truly the word does not suit you. You deserve a better one."

"A... A new name?" This was all very much to take in.

"Tayla and I thought perhaps something like 'Sable' might do nicely for you. It's a lovely sounding name, while still be simple and not excessively gnomish. Taylafel particular my likes how it draws the eye and the mind to your beautiful elven hair."

"I- .... But-...."

I had no idea what to say to the small man, and didn't for several minutes. Taylafel eventually came across us and rescued me with by using much questions which were much easier for me to answer. After it had been decided that I was to become the Bryants' youngest son, she then sat me down with my book once more and continued on as if nothing had changed. And I suppose for them it hadn't.

I still call that little village home. It's the place I return to after every excursion or quest I may take. Some people get quite a laugh out of it- half elf, half orc, raised by gnomes. Many of them ask me which race I identify with the most. I always tell them the same thing: I can't identify with something I am not. I was born with beauty and strength, and I was raised to have inteligence and wisdom; it is not the traits of a race do not define me, but the traits of myself. And even if the ballads about my beauty breaking hearts across the lands are getting immensely out of hand, being myself is something I will never be ashamed of, and that I will never disregard.

Writing Prompt: What’s in a Name?

What's in a name? Write something, even just a simple physical or personality description based off of only a name:

Sable Bryant

#creative writing #short story #dnd #dungeons and dragons #half orc #elf-orc #half elf #uniya #writing prompt #writers on tumblr #writerblr #gnomes #adoption #fantasy #I feel like this didn't come out the way I wanted it to #But I still like it

[eshacarlyle]

A wild gale rages

The window rattles its frame

The storm soothes my soul

#poetry #haiku #nature #storm #wind #What do you call it when the howling of wind makes you want to curl up and happily listen to it for hours? #Storms are beautiful #Nature can heal so many things

[eshacarlyle]

Bright snowless winter

Chilling air so crisp and clean

Breathes new life in me

#poetry #haiku #winter #nature

[eshacarlyle]

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom that was known for its twelve handsome and goodly princes. Which quite confused the king and queen, for they only had five sons. Wanting to discover the source of these tales, the rulers hired a man to follow each of the princes on one of their regular outings into the kingdom. Two weeks later, he was back with his report.

"Your Magesties, I have done as you requested, and followed each of the princes."

"And what have you learned?"

"Your eldest son, Geoffrey, travels through the villages and speaks to village leaders. He asks them of their troubles, and what their needs might be, marking them down and promising to do his best to fulfill them.

"Your second son, Simon, travels and studies the skies. He watches the clouds and makes notations of their movements. He speaks to farmers and tells them if they should bring their crops in early, or if it's a good day to plant something new.

"Your middle son, Edward, the strongest of all his brothers, fells trees and moves stones. With the help of his hands, many buildings are raised.

"Your fourth son, Garrett, traps and hunts, bringing the animals to families and villages in need.

"And your youngest son, Albon, the finest fencer in our land, visits every school house and teaches the children to dance."

The king and queen looked at each other, mildly confounded.

"It is true that we have done our best to raise our sons to be kind and considerate," the king said, "in order that our kingdom may prosper at their hands. And though it is honoring to hear of their noble deeds, this does not answer the question of the other seven. We shall have to find another man."

And so they did. They hired a second to go out into the villages and towns and ask questions, to find out as much as he could about the strange stories of The Twelve Princes. He returned after a week's time and gave his report.

"I have asked every village for tales of the princes, and I have heard of deeds done not at the hands of your sons, but still are told as deeds of princes, with crowns upon their heads and garments of beautiful cloth."

"What sorts of deeds?" asked the queen.

"I heard of a man who tames animals amd calms frenzied horses, and of another who who forges the finest new tools. They told me of the prince that travels with a satchel full of story scrolls for all the children, and of the one who teaches every man to ride. They say there is a prince that holds court to settle disputes, another with a needle more deft than any mother's, and another whose fingers could play any instryment and whose voice could sing any song."

"It is true that these services are indeed of princely manner and honorable to our kingdom, but it seems as though these men have led all out neighbors to believe they are something they are not," mused the king. "We must discover who they are."

And so the king and queen hired a third man to find out the true identities of these seven false princes. Weeks passed and they recieved no word. Finally, Geoffrey, their eldest son, asked to speak with them.

"Mother. Father. You are searching for the seven other of The Twelve Princes. I met your man on the road, and he told me that these stories have been of great concern to you."

"Indeed they have, my son," the queen replied. "Their deeds may be good and of noble heart, but there are only five princes in our land. These falsehoods must be addressed."

Geoffrey frowned deeply, and he stood a little straighter.

"I had thought that might be your concern. And thus I wanted to remind you of a great truth you once taught me."

He gestured to a servant, and behind him the grand throne room doors were opened. In strode his four brothers, and behind them, seven young men in princely garb whom the king and queen and never before seen. They arrayed themself behind the eldest prince, and he spoke in a wise and empowered voice.

"All my life you have been preparing me to rule this kingdom. You have guided me and taught me everything a prince should know. Among those lessons were the pillars of what a good and wise ruler must do. He must care for every subject of his realm, from the wizened elder to babe born yesterday. He must ensure the providence of his whole kingdom- food, shelter, and education. His kingdom should be filled with merriment and laughter, for a happy kingdom will never falter. And finally, a king should lean on council of the wise, for one man on his own cannot sustain the world.

"My brothers are the finest men I've ever known, and these other seven I count also as my flesh and blood. For they embody everything you have ever wanted us to be, with hearts devoted to the enrichment of their homeland. There are indeed twelve princes in this kingdom, beloved parents. And together, we shall make this realm the best home and the strongest fortress, to prosper and protect each of her children."

And it was so.

Writing Prompt: Title #1076

Write something based on or inspired by the book title:

The Twelve Princes

#creative writing #writing prompt #writing #fantasy #short story #fairy tale #writers on tumblr #writerblr #princes #prince #I don't know I thought it was cute #If I wasn't ashamed of making long posts I would tell the story of each prince XD

[eshacarlyle]

The warmth of my blankets pulls me under, the soft weight of sand holding my soul like a fragile child. In this moment, nothing else is real. Warm splinters of light glow from hidden sources, but nothing interrupts me. This is a shelter; a hollow separate from the world where I can speak with my dreams. They answer me with warm tones, soft smiles, and welcome arms.

#<3 #prose #spilled words #For a moment each dream is our reality #The beauty of sleep #I'm tired and my bed feels amazing #Each dream has a face and I call them by name #writing

[eshacarlyle]

"Aren't you selling yourself a bit short, Shadow?" Hans asked, concern filling his warm eyes.

"Nonononono, you don't get it. 'Need' implies that if I'm not there, there is a hole that is necessary to keep filled, except it can only be filled me and I'm not there so it's not filled."

".... Uh-huh?"

"Meaning they need me, and I'm not there and whoops, now they're dead. Yeah, no thank you."

Hans blinked at her. "That... seems like something of a drastic situation, doesn't it? I'm pretty sure everyone you know is expert at taking care of themselves. They kinda have to be, in order to spend so much time with you."

Shadow punched him in the arm, in response to which he rubbed the injured area and looked at her like she'd torn his favorite stuffie.

"And that's exactly why I'm happy with people just wanting me to be around. You, Luna, Zach, you can all take care of yourselves. Of course I'm not going to just sit there if something bad happens, but if I'm not needed, then me helping will be a plus, not the key to survival. I don't like the thought of being that responsible for someone's saftey."

"What about Lake? He needs every one of us."

"Exactly, every one of us. He can't defend himself, he needs protecting, but he has one, two... six, he has six people looking out for his well-being every day, and a couple more that love him and worry about him as well. That burden is not on my shoulders alone."

Hans hmmed and leaned back on his hands. "I need you, though."

"You don't need me, meathead, you need therapy."

"Rude, I do too need you. I need everyone, just like Lake does. That's what being a family is, Shad. If even a single piece was missing, the rest would fall apart."

Shadow could see his thoughts drifting into losses from the past, and she sighed dramatically to pull his attention away from that.

"Fine. I'll be needed." She ragdolled and collapsed heavily against him, almost knocking them both down. "But I'm going to complain about it every second."

Prompt #22

"I don't want someone to need me; that sounds like one of the most frightening things in the world. I just want someone to want me."

#short story #creative writing #writerblr #oc #my ocs #writing prompt

[eshacarlyle]

Shadow felt her disbelief at her partner's audacity take physical form on her face. "What?! You're going to stand there and just flaunt that you're better than me?!!"

King gave a long-suffering sigh as he pushed his hair back from his eyes. "You clearly saw a need to comment on it without me provoking you in any way. Therefore, it stands to reason that you subconciously have come to believe it, which would logically imply that your thought is true. Especially seeing how much it would appear to be eating at you."

"I am three syllables away from hitting you over the head with your own crowbar."

"Would you like me to bend down so you can swing it that high?"

The almost seven foot Dane smirked down at her, fully aware of the fury he was creating inside her. She reached up and grabbed the front of his turtleneck, yanking his stick-like frame down to her level.

"I work with you only because you are probably the third best safe-cracker on two entire continents, but I am fully willing to find a new one if I have to."

"Aren't you over-reacting a bit, for something as trivial as-"

"King, I know exactly where you hide that paper thin knife you're so proud of, and if you don't want to personally experience how sharp it is..."

She trailed off and felt immense satisfaction as he paled and swallowed down a lump in his throat.

"Shad..."

"You might be better at some things, but you would be dead so many times over if not for me. So stop. Pushing. Your luck." She shoved him away with an aire of disgust. "Not that you'll remember this discussion by tomorrow."

King placed a hand to the sheath hidden in his sleeve. He was concerned. That lifted her spirits a bit. He could be such a bastard when he wanted. Which was often. It was nice to knock him down once in a while.

"Pick up your pride and let's go. The police are still searching. We need to move on before they think to look here."

A: “You’re just sooo much more skilled than me, huh?”

B: “If you feel the need to point it out, than I suppose it is true.”

#creative writing #short story #writerblr #partners in crime #writing prompt #my ocs #original character #enemies to lovers #Just an angry short bank robber yelling at her future boyfriend #height difference

[eshacarlyle]

"Well it's certainly the most pressing." Jaysin stretched his hand out from the shelter of the gazebo, withdrawing it quickly when the sleet stung his skin.

"Jaysin, you kidnapped a child! I think we need to discuss this!"

"Kidnapping implies taking, usually for nefarious purposes. I'm giving him a home, and it was by mutual agreement."

Joanna rubbed her forehead and let out a carefully measured breath. "You're missing the point, Jaysin. I know you. No one else does. Your son died. Now you suddenly have another. People are going to talk."

Jaysin hugged his coat closer to his chest. "People have always talked. And they won't stop if I cease to be interesting. I'm not going to decrease my life for such fruitless and pointless reasoning."

"Jaysin, please. Your son was murdered in cold blood. You in turn found the murderer and related his actions. You then discover he had a son. The boy's aunt has a long discussion with you and determines that you would be best suited to give the boy a home. I have known you and your secrets for years and even I am having trouble with this."

Jaysin frowned at her severely as he turned up his collar against the chill riding the storm.

"That man treated his own son little better than he treated mine, and his aunt could see that. She could also see a grieving father and someone that would actually give her nephew a loving home."

"Exactly how am I to believe this? A premier vampire hunter is found bled dry in his own study, and his sister decides the one responsible would make the most suitable guardian for her nephew? It's far-fetched, Jaysin, and as much as it matches your personality, I don't think it matches with reality."

Jaysin's jaw tightened and he scowled darkly out into the rain. "Joanna, you have been like a sister to me. You have guarded my secrets as your own, and you loved my son as much as I did. This boy is very aware of what happened to his father, and his aunt is very aware of what her brother did to me. I shouldn't have to explain to you that some people can see vampires still have hearts."

"But the son of Calvin Barrister?!"

"The boy needs a father. A real one. And I haven't forgotten how to love a child, by any means." He turned his dark brown eyes down on her, his gaze sinister and forbidding. "Now tell me, exactly how do you plan to get us back to Darkfield with this much ice and water pouring from sky?"

Writing Prompt: Dialogue

“The weather isn’t the only issue we need to address.”

#creative writing #writers on tumblr #vampire #writing prompt #I don't even know if anyone cares what I post but I have so many stories to tell #So there I guess #Honestly I just want to spam the universe with words but I have no idea who would read it #writerblr #my ocs #original character

[eshacarlyle]

I watch the stories unfold in my mind,

I read the words sprawling across the page.

All the tales that withstand the tests of time,

Adventures that thrill regardless of age.

Yarns, woven and spun for fairy daydreams;

Ballads sung and performed for our delight.

They all are just nonsense, so it would seem,

But nonetheless they make everything bright.

Planted in youth, the magic never fades,

'Til still as adults the words we recall.

The visions and hopes of a kingdom fae

And dreams of a spell under which to fall.

Books never grow old, nor do stories die;

They wait in the wings for new reader's eye.

#reading #stories #poetry #sonnet #love of books #Love of storytelling #Stories go on forever #The best ones have been around forever #storyteller

[eshacarlyle]

Heartbroken facing

The pain brought by solitude

My only escape

#poetry #haiku #lonliness #hiding feelings

[eshacarlyle]

Once, in a small village shaded by ever-flowering peach trees, there lived a bright young woman named Ellia. She was praised throughout the village for her shrewd mind, and all came to her to settle disputes or matters of business. And this was not limited to her fellow humans. Fae of all manner came to her as well, asking (surreptitiously mind you) for help with their bewitching ways of life. And that, dear listeners, is what caught the eye of the Prince of the Faewood.

It was a grand sight when he strode into town, the mightiest of the fair folk. His robe stretched out behind him like a cascade of the richest red wine, and his golden horns shed light into every house he passed by. When Ellia opened her door to his knock, he bowed in the deepest respect.

"Maiden of fairest skin and keenest mind, you have served the people of my realm with greatest honor and wisest words. Today I come to ask you to rule by my side as queen of the fae; tomorrow I shall return to bring you home."

Ellia looked up at the Prince in stunned silence for no small amount of time, until finally she smiled and curtsied as deeply as he had bowed.

"It would be my greatest pride and honor, Your Majesty."

And the Prince left.

That night, another of the fair folk visited the house of Ellia. He knocked softly on the door and smiled bashfully at the maiden who opened it.

"I have heard many tales of your wisdom and kindness, fair Ellia," the elf said. "I wish to grant you influence over the plants and animals as well, so your knowledge may help the world itself grow wiser. If you but become my bride, such powers shall be yours, for I love you." He asked for her hand and in it he tenderly placed a single white rose. "I shall return tomorrow evening for your answer."

He vanished from her doorstep, and Ellia looked thoughtfully at the flower in her hand.

"It is hard to say which choice is better," she murmured. "I shall see what happens tomorrow."

The next morning, Ellia took greatest care to prepare for the Prince's arrival. She put on her best dress and shoes, and did her hair the prettiest way she knew. It was important not to offend royalty. As a final touch, she wove the white rose from the elf into her hair, loving the way it looked. That afternoon, the Prince arrived. But when she opened the door, he wasn't happy.

"What is that flower, maiden?" he demanded

"'Tis just a rose, Your Majesty," Ellia responded with confusion.

He growled in frustration. "It is the token of a lover, with their passion woven into it's creation. I cannot make you my queen with such an item in your possession." The Prince lifted a hand, and the rose wilted in her hair. He turned around with a great flourish of his cloak. "I shall return for you tomorrow."

Ellia was greatly befuddled by these events, and she lay the offending flower on her table, frowning at it. "You have cost me a great deal today," she said scornfully. And she went about making supper.

That evening, the handsome elf knocked on her door once again. She answered it with a stern look, and he seemed taken aback.

"Dearest Ellia, what has vexed you so?"

"The Prince did not take kindly to the gift you gave me. It has made my choice clear. Farewell, young elf, and do not return."

He looked hurt, and before she closed the door he quickly reached to tuck a new rose behind her ear.

"Please reconsider, my heart's desire. I shall come again tomorrow."

Ellia threw the rose into the waste bin as soon as he had gone, and she went to bed.

The next afternoon, the Prince arrived as promised, but once again he felt the power of the rose within her home. His frustration mounting from the day before, the second flower also withered where it lay, and he left, once again with the promise to return. That night when there was a knock on the door, Ellia looked through the keyhole to see the elf, waiting with yet another flower. When she didn't answer after several minutes, he looked in the direction of the Faewood with a scowl, and he left the rose on her front step with a simple note which she read when he had gone- I will return for you. You belong with me. She scoffed and tossed both into the dirt, and the next day waited for the Prince. But yet again, he wilted the rose and left.

The following morning she didn't even read the note, words scrawled across the small page in a furious script, and she threw both parchment and flower into the fire under her teakettle. The note burned, but the flower did not. When the Prince arrived that day, he seemed sad, even wounded by the presence of yet another rose. Ellia apologized profusely, but the Prince still had to return the following afternoon, the rose wilting among the ashes.

That night, Ellia waited on her doorstep for the elf to arrive. She waited until evening became night, but he did not appear. She smiled. It seemed her problem had solved itself. She went back inside.

And discovered a disaster. Books were spread across the floor, all open to different pages, some even with pages torn out and scattered around them. The elf stood in the middle of it, his arms crossed over his chest and his frown curling his handsome face into that of a fiend.

"This is childish behavior from a noble fae," Ellia chastised. It was always best to call a fae's attention to his behavior, as they always wanted humans to think the best of them.

"This behavior is the price for your rejection, Ellia. A fae does not gift their affection lightly, as humans seem so often to do. I wove the best of my magic into those roses, to give you whatever happiness you may have desired, but each day I felt as you let the Prince's magic destroy them. You have spurned me, and you have done so painfully."

Ellia merely glared at him. "You speak like a fool, and you've ruined half my books. A maiden is given the choice to follow her own path. You have become angry at the Prince for doing only what you have done- offering me a gift and a future. And now you have made yourself even less of a suitor with such a demonstration as this."

The elf seemed to boil with rage.

"If only you could understand what you have done, sending my magic back to me with the burning taint of rejection, the twisted feeling of love forcably soured. I choose you, you over all, and you have chosen another."

"Which is my right," Ellia opened her mouth to retort, and found herself suddenly saying it to her own reflection. It stared back at her with a look that matched the confusion and vague rage she felt inside. She turned and looked in every direction, but everywhere it was only her reflection. She reached out to touch it and felt cool metal beneath her fingers. Where had he put her?

The next day the Prince arrived as had become his custom, and those who did saw what happened still wonder what they exactly it meant. The Prince strode through town just as he had the last four days, and knocked grandly on Ellia's door, just as he had. Then with an earsplitting crash and blinding pearlescent light, the house, yard, prince and all vanished, disappearing as if they had never been, leaving behind a beautiful pond lined with glistening silver stones.

Most assume it was the Prince finally taking Ellia home to be his bride. Others believe that it was wild fae magic and that Ellia never truly existed, being only an unseelie trap to catch the Prince. She was always too intelligent to be merely human. But whichever tale may be the truth, both are still told throughout the kingdom. One is a story of true love, a prince rescuing his bride from the locket of a jilted sorcerer. The other is a warning for children to beware the fae and never fall for their tricks, traps, and treaties.

Writing Prompt: Three Things

four withered white roses, a half empty bookcase, a jealous elf

#fae #faerie #fair folk #writing prompt #Fantasy Prompts #fantasy #short story #writing #creative writing #roses #white roses #elf #prince #three things #fairy tale #folklore

[eshacarlyle]

The moment you start to make a hobby a task, you start to lose your inspiration for it. Being able to earn a living off of something you find fun, something you’re passionate about, is probably the best occupation anyone could imagine. But that won’t change the fact that you will be having to work for your livelihood. Whether you want to be a content creator, a photographer, an artist, a writer, a professional equestrian, even dreams like running a coffee shop or starting a landscaping service, you will need to put forth the effort. It will demand your time and you will have to prioritize it over some things you would probably rather do.

The key to combat this is simple. Breathe, and remember why you wanted to pursue this path in the first place. Each morning, wake up and think about the fact that you get to do your favorite thing for work. Look at any progress- no matter how small, no matter how rough a day you’ve had- as a gift; you might have worked painfully hard, and made only a slight dent, but that was time spent doing something you’ve always wanted. You simply must always remember that you are forging your dream; you are creating something that wasn’t there before. And as long as you give it the time it deserves (and give yourself time to rest and recover throughout) every step will lead you to a place closer than you’ve ever before been to achieving it.

#motivational #encouragement #forge your dreams #writer problems #Struggling with my writing and I just wanted to encourage all my friends out there

[eshacarlyle]

The old schoolhouse hasn't been used for generations. The paint has long chipped off the walls, and the roof is sagging with age. But everyone refuses to tear it down, and most reject the idea of refurbishing it just as quickly. They say it's a piece of history, a treasured reminder of where our town came from. I think there's another reason. I think they're afraid of the tree.

They say the tree was planted on the day they broke ground for the school. But it looks older than that. It looks as though it has been there a millennia, with twisted bark and craggled bracnhes silently growing and watching the lives of the humans passing it by. Visitors don't think anything of it- it's just another historic elm with a commemorative plaque. They don't know what I do. They've never seen the way this town behaves.

I'm sure you've noticed how colorful this little town is. It doesn't matter what time of year, color is always burst from some place; flowers, lights, dances, festivals, fairs, there are bright colors all around you. It makes my skin crawl to look at it; something has always felt so very wrong. As a child it took me years to figure out why- nothing is red.

Yes, feel free to look around. No eye-catching red-lettered signs. Not a single red bulb or decoration for Christmas. No red roses, tulips or peonies. No bright, beautiful red clothes. No red bricks, nor any fruits or vegetables. The color is absent in any form or shade. Do you wonder why? I'll tell you. It's because of the tree.

There's a knothole hidden around the back of the tree, but don't go looking for it unless you have something to offer. Something red. Something.... the color of human blood. An apple. A knitted scarf. A bucket of paint. Something must sate the tree. The tree is hollow, and ever hungry. Decades have passed. Gifts have been surrendered for countless years. And yet it never fills; it asks for more.

I've given my share of peace offerings. No one wants to be the next to die. But red. Blood red. We should have seen it all along. Death. A slow death, blood turning black with each offering. If you cut me, any printer would see only the ink for his book blocks. The life has left our bodies, the tree has only grown. My town is one of corpses, cursed to walk until they have nothing left to offer.

No one believes me. They think the tree is all that protects us from dying faster to this horrible disease. To offend the tree, to hurt or disturb it, will only lead to a quicker demise. Yes... I think they leave that old schoolhouse alone because they're afraid of the tree. I'm afraid of it too. That's why I'm going to cut it down.

#writing #creative writing #writing prompt #soft horror #I have no idea if this is any good #I just got a vibe and ran with it #red #spooky #spooky tree

[eshacarlyle]

The ocean was over a week away by foot, but there was no mistaking what it was he wore over his shoulders. Even through the dust and tatters of ill-fortuned travel, the fur coat still held an otherworldly shimmer. Anyone on the street stopped and watched him pass in stunned silence. He strode with determination, choosing his turns as though he had lived in our village his entire life. Once he had passed, people immediately began whispering about what it could mean. I didn't care about whispering theories with gossips. I wanted to know what he was doing here. I followed him, staying to side of the street as he strode boldly down the center. He didn't seem to notice me.

As he walked, the sword flashed dully in the gray light, making me glance at the sun and the clouds slowly closing in over it. Everyone was prepared for the storm to hit. Windows had been shuttered and boarded, all animals were locked safely into barns and stables, and anything that wasn't too heavy had been moved indoors. Storms in this valley were notorious for winds that could bluster a bull from it's feet. I glanced back to the stranger... This certainly was an odd time for a faery to arrive.

I followed him through most of the town, the sky darkening continuously as we went. Just as neared the edge of town and I thought perhaps he was only passing through, he climbed a set of stairs and pounded on a door with the pommel of his sword. A young maid answered it, and when she saw him she squeaked in alarm and tried to slam the door. He stopped it with his boot and shouldered it back open, reaching inside and grabbing her with his free arm. She protested with the repeated words of 'no' and 'please', but she followed him without fighting, as if she knew it would do no good. The selkie warrior didn't say a word, and he brought her to the middle of the street where he turned her to face the storm.

I looked at the clouds once again, and found myself perplexed as to how it could almost be upon us and yet there were only the mildest of winds to herald its arrival. There were hardly any people left outside now, not wanting to be caught in the gale, but I could see the doors all held ajar, filled with curious faces. The first drops of rain began to darken the ground, and the girl whimpered in distress. The man had let go, but she remained where she stood. I took a curious step closer and the stranger turned freezing brown eyes in my direction. I stopped instantly when his grip tightened around his weapon.

In a matter of seconds, the rain increased to a downpour. All three of us became drenched, rivlets trickling away as the water pooled at our feet. The etching in the blade of the selkie's sword began to glow with an eerie silver-green light, and the girl looked at it with something akin to horror. What did she know? It was hard to be heard over the deafening sounds of water, but I shouted at her as best I could.

"What is happening?"

She looked up at me with that same wide-eyed horror as I stumbled from the force of water running down the street. I saw her lips move, but her answer was lost to the storm, and I suddenly found myself afraid as well when I realized that the torrential rainwaters were ignoring the pull of gravity and gathering to flow like a river through the street, the current pushing towards us. Then I heard it. Crisp and clear, reaching my ears as perfectly as if it were a quiet summer morning. Hoofbeats.

It appeared at the end of the street, rounding the corner with perfect grace and beauty. It was the most beautiful dapple gray horse I had ever seen, its hooves striking melodically against the earth without the barest hint of a splash. It wasn't even wet. I began to walk to meet it, pushing against the current. I had to ride it.

The girl screamed, snatching me out of my enthrallment. My gaze whipped back to see what had happened. Nothing had happened. She was unharmed, and the selkie had even stepped away from her. Why had she screamed? Her terrified eyes were boring straight into mine, her mouth still partially open as she frantically shook her head. I gave her a puzzled look and turned to watch the horse approach once again.

It had slowed to a trot, and its deep sea-green eyes met mine as it passed me. It was even more incredible up close. Its mane flowed with the wind and rain, rippling along its neck like an ever crashing wave. Its form was flawless, each muscle and sinew scuplted to equine perfection. The dapple pattern across its back seemed to shift and shimmer, like sunlight underwater. It wasn't afraid of me. I had to ride it.

The girl screamed again, but I ignored her. No one was harming her. I reached out to lay my hand on the horse's side. It stopped instantly, turning its head to watch me and whickering in the most friendly way. I smiled at the creature, and in a moment I had vaulted myself onto its back. It neighed as though absolutely delighted to have me, and continued the last few steps forward to stand in front of the girl. I stroked the creature's neck fondly as it spoke to her.

"You ran away, my bride."

The girl was sobbing, which suddenly I could know hear as if there were no rain at all. Her arms were wrapped around herself as though in pain, and her face was contorted with heartwrenching sorrow. Why was she so sad? How could anyone feel less that joy at the sight of such a beautiful faery creature? The horse spoke to her again.

"I told you I would find you. You tried to hide."

"Please. Please!" she cried. "Just take me. Don't hurt anyone else. I'll go with you, just take me!"

I couldn't understand her. I wasn't being taken. I wanted to go wherever this horse might take me. I knew it would only be to the most beautiful of places.

"My bride, I do not choose those that ride me. They choose themselves."

I smiled and patted the horse's neck, which it responded to by curving back to nuzzle at my hand.

"Just as you chose so long ago," it said, turning back to the girl once again. "You have tried to run, and I have caught you. Now come, and rule my kingdom with me."

The selkie man stepped forward and picked the girl up without effort. He set her on the horse behind me, and I turned to grin at her.

"Don't be scared," I said. "We're going to a beautiful place. You'll like it there."

Her wide eyes looked at me with heartbreak, and as the horse turned to run back the way it had come, her wrapped her arms wround me and sobbed into my back. She was a strange girl. But that didn't really matter. I leaned forward and hugged the horse's neck as it ran. Our lives were about to become a fairy tale.

Prompt: 135

The storm had been gathering on the horizon for three days when the stranger walked into town with a coat of tattered selkie skin and an engraved silver sword.

#writing #creative writing #writeblr #selkie #kelpie #kelpie bride #writing prompt #fantasy #fairy tale #celtic lore #water horse #the selkie didn't really do much #but the whole point is that everyone sees a prompt differently :) #short story

[eshacarlyle]

Fröög

Small, green and friendly

Golden eyes so bright with cheer

He brings smiles today

#poetry #haiku #frog #colored pencil #pencil sketch #he's just a baby <3 #frog loaf