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Aurum in Fairy Robes eating noodle; Yes, this illustration was supposed to be switched with the 3rd chapter.

Tale 43: The Small Apothecary (chapter 5 - The Moon 5/5 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams

The next day, Qilin sleep; unable to adjust to the time-zone change. He reluctantly got up, to start his work. Firstly, he asked various people what elixirs they might need. Qilin knew the local doctor required remedies to naga venom, flu symptoms, and bone repair; And others wanted light viles and water clensing; Things the traditional village lacked. So, next it was time to gather. Even if no recipe called for it, Qilin looked for specialties. Some mid-day golden dew, from the ruffled Dok Cahmpa was right there; beaming light the light of dawn. Good for pain, and only found in Doi Veng. These were the yellow flowers he dreamed of. But for the final request, he was comissioned sugar plum jam for sleep.

Qilin walked to the ever blossoming orchard; Various cherry, plum, and orange fruit fey, were planted neatly together; A fluffy arching crown of plush purple and pink. They sweetly whispered above a pool of lucky carp. But the enchanted fish no gave scales of fortune; they rejected every coin. Even the frosted plums forbid Qilin from having a single pome. With a despondent sigh, and empty basket, Qilin realized he needed a witch. For his recipes, the fey had to consent to being picked. Their gifts have different properties if taken without asking. Qilin preferred asking. He considered it violent, to steal pieces of fey.

Having lost, Qilin’s left the orchard in search of Aurum. It was his lucky day; He saw golden silks glow from the corner of his eye. Aurum was riding his familiar off the butte top. Qilin gasped, and ran after him. He had completely forgotten Aurum was showing him the water temple today.

The walk was silent between Qilin and Aurum. Qilin’s thoughts were busied by finally being able to perform traditions from his people. Also, the consuming frustration at current barriers to his craft. Meanwhile, Aurum shuddered at the thought of his neglectful mother being there; He was equally irational in the moment. Ironically, Aurum’s mother came to Doi Veng for the same reason as Qilin. However, money had corrupted her, and she succumb to depression while destroying Doi Veng. She was the very reason they fey acted so cold. For this reason, she now tended the temple and retired from magic.

At the temple, the walls crumbled as nature grew through them. But inside, there was a hall with carved jade walls. There was a set of bells, large gong, and trough of chalk, before a powdery wood floor. Light shone through the gaps of the pillars, and holes above the red beams. Pixies were sleeping about the ledges, that wafted of rose and sandalwood. Their honey would be perfect for making hex incense. Qilin was overwhelmed as he looked above, and walked closer to the chalk.

“How does this work?” Qilin inquired. He bumped into Aurm who was kneeling. Qilin decided to join him. The sound of a steam silently echoed, and Qilin felt himself merge with the moment. His previous thoughts now smothered. His face bright. Then, Aurum’s deep breaths ceased. He had never met someone of the Eastlands, who didn’t know how to give gratitude.

“Well?” Qilin smiled.

“Um, you grab the chalk in your palms, then slam your hands while bowing, and gently interlace your fingers behind your neck. Then reflect on what satisfies your being in that moment,” Aurum said, his head tilted. “Then meditate on the phrase ‘I am greatful for...” He demonstrated. The thud of the bow, and puff of chalk, nearly made Qilin second guess the ritual. He performed it perfectly, powdering white into his black hair. Soon, a singing bowl rang through the room. They sat up as one, in a state of serenity.

“What are you grateful for, Lin?” Aurum grinned. His own father would always ask the same. You can tell a lot about a person from what they appriciate.

“Having the opportunity to live here with my family. You?” Qilin smirked. Aurum stalled, and looked into the brushed bell brass before him.

“To see the colour yellow.” He said calmly. He gently got up, and left to the courtyard. Qilin tip-toes in suit. They sat in the shade of the clensing gingko, growing into the a wall. Crossed legs, well poised, silent, and resting.

The novelty of meditation, wore off quickly for Qilin. His mind wondered back to the rejection of the plums. He fidgeted with the urge to ask Aurum for aid, while unsure if disturbing meditation was allowed. He had meditated little in his life, aside from breathing exercises in school programs. Despite reading the teachings within the poetry of water. Qilin opened his eyes, and turned to Aurum. Tears were streaming down Aurum’s face, as his steady breath trembled. It came from the chest, no matter how hard he tried to use his stomach.

“Why are you crying?” Qilin whispered.

“It does not matter why I am sad. I get sad sometimes, then it goes away. I concentrate only on emptiness.” Aurum sighed, melting into his posture.

“Then how do you process emptiness? How do you let go?”

“Maybe I cry, because I am sad that I have let go. Purhaps right now, it is time to greave.” Aurum said, opening his eyes. His mother was adjacent, and smiling slightly. She wore orchid, with shimmering lotus trim.

“I’m bad at letting go.” Qilin shrugged. “Like, I can’t let go of those stupid sugar plums. This place was supposed to be....perfect.” He petered out. Aurum nodded, having already assumed as much. Aurum’s mother readjusted.

“I’m going now. Those are great thoughts to practice sitting with, Lin. Thoughts that when overcome, make you one with nothingness. Letting go, requires wisdom of what we cannot control. The world will not end because the fey are hesitant, and we feel strongly.” Aurum said, walking away. He seldom took his own medicine, despite his effort. To Qilin, those words made him go red from frustration.

Aurum didn’t fully embrace a single thing he touted most days. He had only been practising for a few years. It can take a lifetime to act on such beliefs. Aurum may need two lifetimes; He had a lot of issues: Feeling incompetent for being coddled, traumatized for being imprisoned, and hard feelings towards his parents for their mistakes. He knew being in the moment would prevent looking back, and alternatively the now is not always pleasant. Like Qilin, Aurum also struggled to sustain his meditation. Aurum radiated a dark presence as he rode back to the village. Like he would block out the sun for anything that dared to near him. That stupid boy was summoning Aurum’s pain with all those questions. Testing his ability to remain present. The flaw of the ways of water, is that human hearts are responsive, thus creating desire and hate. People seek opposites, and fulfillment. They are not like fey. The flow of all things, is inconsistent with humanity’s stubbornness.

Aurum spent three hours coaxing the trees to give up a few plums to help Qilin.

“I don’t believe he is a greedy wizard. He is not from my family. I think he is like our village’s people. He wants simplicity, and your charity, to aid us all. What If I ask you for plums? As your mage who adores you, am I worthy? Am I able to receive your gifts to help the forest?”

“We will trust you for now, mage. But if this boy misuses our gifts, we will gladly have the more mobile fey scare him off.” The orchard threatened. It was so unlike them. Fey catastrophizing? Often, the childlike neutral nature of fey, made them the best teachers of embracing each moment’s wonder and joy. But like people, they know fear and desire. Nothing is immune. Aurum was only able to procure half the ingredients Qilin needed.

“Can you give him more? I want to sleep.” A familiar voice called into the trees. Kugu was feeding rice cakes to the lucky carp, while listlessly humming a lullaby to endear them. She wore her same printed pastel clothes. The trees dropped more flowers and fruit. Aurum’s gaze lingered on Kugu’s forlorn face. He snapped out of it when she thanked them.

Aurum walked over to crouch next to Kugu; The garden was empty in the afternoon. All they heard was birds and fey whipers.

“Thanks.” Aurum smiled.

“I just want a regular sleep cycle.”

“No, I mean for going outside so we can smile with you. You even helped Qilin,” Aurum said, looking at his reflection in the pool. “Honestly I’m sick of only seeing you stare at the wall, each time I sneak in to rid the goblins from your yard.”

“I don’t need pity.” Kugu scoffed.

“Maybe you need tea? I’ve heard good things about tea. I’d love to make some for you some time.” Aurum tensed. Kugu laughed a little. The carp gave them scales.

“Maybe after you give that apothecary his ingredients, and my father overcomes his worry. He should go to the temple too,” Kugu growled. “I like to think it’s working for me. I hope magic can cure me. I should’ve never studied in the city.”

“Should is a toxic word. Like always and never. Best advice my nanny ever gave me.” Aurum said, examining the orange scales. He got up to leave, and waved goodbye. Kugu tried to smile back. Even lost in his glow, she couldn’t do it quite yet.

Qilin nearly feinted at the basket of goods; He could start brewing this very night. There was an encouraging note from his mother. Qilin read it while setting up. The plum jam needed to be brewed under a full moon, all night; Qilin would need to multitask to stay awake. As the sun set, he got to work cutting and grinding. Sugar plum, frosted orange peel, and starlit sugar cane. He had brewing flasks, vials of every material, and all the tools and stoves he needed; Including a pot to make smoked fish rice, as he missed dinner.

After a night’s work, the jam had turned white. To test, he put a spoonful on a plate; It froze the entire table. The plums hadn’t fully consented to sharing their gifts. The elixir could be used in small does to cool food or make ice, so it wasn’t a full loss. But Qilin was deeply disappointed. Not only did he fail brewing for the first time in a year, but the fey didn’t like him. As dawn came, Qilin staggered back to the temple, and feel asleep while meditating until midday; When he could make the golden dew. He was given a singing bowl for the very task. If had a fierly lusture from the dragon forged bell brass. However, Qilin’s confidence was shattered. He lost his posture. Having awoken, his breathing was uneven, but still deep. Like a gasping fish.

“Why are you crying?” Kugu asked. Silence.

“Well, I cry for failing to get a degree, and believing for a moment such things mattered when places like this exist.” She continued. Qilin looked up to see her undone hair and calm face. She wore a silver satin sabok skirt, that glimmered like the moon. She looked nice today. Their eyes met. Qilin’s tears soaked his dirty emerald wrapped pants and sash; He wore only the pants of his dirty wizarding robes.

“You don’t have to share.” Kugu shrugged.

“I cry, because today my mind reminds me I can fail.” Qilin admitted.

“The plums hate everyone. You’re not special,” Kugu snorted. “Well, they like me I guess; Enough to give the other half of your ingredients when I requested your potion.”

“Thanks. Now tell me your secrets. The fey here are resistant to friendship.” Qilin grined.

“I would have ascended to the next spiritual plane, if I knew the ways of fey.” Kugu rolled her eyes.

“Well, me and Aurum know the ways of fey, and I assure you we’re both currently incompatent.”

“He offered to let me watch him burn himself on a stove; To make tea to warm me. Something about it having special properties.”

“Probably something my mom said.”

“I think I said yes, even though I have trouble bonding with people. But with that workaholic, whose smile and misguided mind; He makes me weak. It feels like he’s always there for me. But I can’t get myself to-”

“bonding and getting attention? Just crawl into his window uninvited! I got a week’s detention for that, and I wasn’t even the one naked. The guy didn’t return my textbook, and I had a test the next day. You’ll never forget a moment like that. That’s the secret to bonding with someone.” Quilin suggested. Kugu finally managed a smile.

Hot Water

The following week, Qilin decided to earn the trust of fey the old-fashioned way: bribery and proximity. He failed fey studies, but was a believer in power of confidence. Qilin was now desperate to gather ingredients; Preferably without Aurum or Kugu. He watered and tended the wondrous flora daily. Trying to tell himself it’s ok if they don’t give him anything. It’s just a low rank potions, he’d repeat like a new mantra. When he dare feel the frustration boil, he decided to seek other useful ingrediant.

Thus, Qilin stood at the graceful falls on the red lacquer bridge, being misted gently by the cleansing water. He wanted one of Goober’s golden scales, to make glistening dye; dragon-yellow was good at thermoregulating houses. Useful in tropical climates, like here in the Eastlands. Summer, was indeed upon the baking butte; Making Qilin’s cloths stick to his every inch. Goober requested a watch. Qilin didn’t have one. Like Aurum, Qilin shook an open palm over the rail, and into the pool below. The bottom was littered with clocks. After wading to the shore, Qilin sat there causing at the universe between breaths.

Meanwhile, Aurum had melted into his sleeping mat. Finally, he was able to let his trains of thought come and go freely. One with existence. He felt the come and go of joy, in this accomplishment. Calming gratitude for the sun and Kugu’s courage, and Qilin’s spirit. His breath deep and relaxed. He was lost to the world, for what might have been ninety-minutes. Even the crash on his balcony, and tumble through his open shutters, didn’t stir Aurum. Must be the birds. He thought in passing. Kugu was angered Qilin’s advice didn’t work.

Kugu had crawled out of bed for nothing. Like those around her, Kugu’s ability to be one with acceptance, was being tested. She sat an inch from Aurum’s face for fifteen-minutes before stillness left her. She ran back out the window; Not before seeing the entire kitchen littered with burnt pots, and random perfectly clean tea cups. Kugu wondered if he washed things with soap, cleansing water, or just alchemized dishes as he needed them. Once again, a train of thought brought someone out of the moment, and over a rail. Kugu fell into a mundane gingko, and then landed her tailbone on the walkway. She covered her face in embarrassment, and pain, as she passed people who weren’t watching.

A week later, Qilin gave the cooling jam to the local cook. His brother was baking in the back, and mocked Qilin’s chalk powdered hair. The temple had quickly become Qilin’s favourite spot between brewing.

“Are you sure you don’t need it? It will keep food from spoiling in the heat,” Qilin insisted. “One drop in the centre of a room each day, should keep any place a cool.”

“Brilliant! But... Why can’t a mage do this? Wouldn’t a winter spell, or whatnot, be permanent? How can I be sure a wizard used ethically sourced ingredients? I don’t have money to pay you either.” The cook questioned.

“Words of thanks, or food, will be payment enough,”Qilin smiled. “Potions are made to be used. I would never waste goods made from the gifts given by our local fey. Besides, Aurum can be busy, now that Whitestead is not in Doi Veng. Sir, I assure my elixirs are fit for our current needs.”

“I supose.” The man smiled. Qilin smiled back, as he handed over the potion. The man gave him his day’s worth of calories in dumpling soup, and peanut tofu. Qilin decided to go home to sleep it off, since he was unable to brew anything that day. He had given in to his failure, and tended the fey only out of admiration. Which led to several baskets of ingredients, by Qilin’s side. He was admittedly content. Maybe he had gotten his Happily Ever After enchantment. Things seemed to bother Qilin less with time. Maybe Doi Veng was rubbing off on him, as he wished. Each moment became succulent. Even his mother and siblings seemed to be calm and rested.

After waking up from meditation, Aurum decided to eat some leftover stuffed buns, and ride his familiar to the greater Doi Veng area, outside the gate. He had nearly forgotten there was a large town nearby. Everyone in Doi Veng forgot about it eventually. Which is good, because the town felt sad. Aurum attended magic school here, and got a witchery masters. When Aurum arrived, and gave a beaming aura as he walked. It contrasted with from the roughed up neighbourhood. He decided to buy incense for the temple, and as gifts. Aurum received some nasty looks. The people even walked around him, or switched sidewalks; People feared mages. Aurum could feel their impulsive reactions, through the traditional smiling greetings. He briefly remembered those things used to bother him, then moved on. Aurum decided to go back with taro rolls, offer the incense, and return home.

In his abode, Aurum examined the tea he bought. He had no clue if Kugu liked tea.

How does one know if something is made with love, or rant serenity? He held up the box, and looked at it vacantly. Aurum felt the unsteady breath panic. But he had a resolve of independence. A desire to become a calm grown individual. His nanny was gone, and taught him many things.

How hard could it be to make tea? I know magic after all! Surely making tea is easier then cooking or bartering with dragons. Aurum thought, tensely exhaling.

Instead of sitting with that, he ate the rest of the taro rolls like hotdogs, while watching Qilin appease the foliage. They were now trying to give him too many gifts, of which he would refuse.

“You wanted their gifts so bad… Why are you turning them away?” Aurum asked.

“Because I don’t want thing I won’t use. Their to kind to reap...” Qilin shrugged. There was a pause as he commanded winter water, from his wand; Sprinkling the garden with glittering dew. Water spells always have an explainable lustre to them. Like living glass.

“Actually, I’m also scared I’ll mess up, Qilin confessed.

“It’s pretty hard to truely mess up.”

“ But I botched the jam, and now I have to wait another lunar cycle to have a full moon. The cooling potion was the best I’ve ever made, if that were what I was making.” Qilin grumbled.

“That’s a lot of looking forward and back. I hate when I do that too.” Aurum said. “For example, I don’t know how to make tea, and I offered it to Kugu. To help her. Because I like her. The thought of failure is intrusive... Wait! You brew stuff, Lin; Any hints?”

“Great. We’re on the same page. The human attachment to time and social pressure. Well, since one of us has to succeed: First you grab a pot. Then you fill the pot two-thirds with water. Then you heat the water until it bubbles, and-” Qilin started. “Are you taking notes?”

“Yes. Keep going.” Aurum smiled innocently. He had summoned his mage journal and ink. Qilin looked into middle distance as if a wind of lukewarm essence flooded into him. Or perhaps a sneeze; It can be hard to tell sometimes. Qilin’s vision greyed, and hearing blurred, as he provided instructions. What sort of person doesn’t know how to make tea? Is that a judgment... Wait, should this man even be near fire?

“Thanks! I knew an Apothecary could help! Are you ok, Lin?” Aurum said, bending a little to look into Qilin’s eyes.

“Spaced out I think.”

“Yeah, that’ll happen when you become aware of your stupidity. Happens often.”

“Stupid? Actually, I think I was thinking too hard; You don’t possess the skill of tea brewing. Do you struggle to wash your clothes? I keep meeting people who can’t wash clothes...” Qilin huffed. Aurum gave nervous laugh.

“Yeah. Um, anyway, I meant you looked consumed by regret. Are you embarrassed that you forgot the full moon is actually tomorrow night? We do encourage forgetting time here. Don’t feel too ashamed.”

“WAIT. WHAT.” Qilin yelled.

By Evening, Kugu sat quietly on the mat by Aurum’s tea table. Jewel coloured walls, and dusty wood floors. His possessions were few, and the minimum quality needed to function. Every object traditional second-hand antique. The glaze on the ceramics had crackles, and the wall scrolls faded. Wood furniture losing lacquer, and cushions nearly flat. It gave the room personality. Kugu was intentionally not watching Aurum, who was behind her in the kitchen. He had burnt himself twice. But at last, he sat across from her.

“I’m sorry, it’s um, steeping.” He said. “How was your day?”

“Fell from a tree, again. Now I am here. Again.”

“Oh no, are you ok?”

“I am here.”

“I am not here. My mind is presently in that kitchen, watching the tea brew, worried you’ll hate it.”

“We offer tea because it’s neutral. I neither love nor hate tea. I actually have very few opinions. Which is why I have no friends, and ended up here.”

“Then you’re in the right place! I lack the full concept of most things, but I try my best to be ambivalent and absorb each second of being. Like being uncomfortble from tea.”

“Do I talk like that now, too? Without any emphatic words?”

“No. I normally don’t. I just hope that if speak like that, it will sink in. It’s super hard. I feel it might be working. Sometimes.”

“huh, never thought of it like that. Also, tea only takes three minutes to steep. You should check on it.” Kugu laughed. Aurum jumped up and dashed to the kitchen. There was more swearing, shattering, a little sobbing, some silence, and then Aurum returned with a white pot and two simple cups. He set the table perfectly. Kugu went to pour before Aurum could offer. She filled his cup, then hers. She put down the smooth warm pot, and went for her beverage. Then she noticed the tea was clear. She drank it to be sure. After a swallow, Kugu made eye contact with Aurum. He had also dranken it, and tensed with nerves.

“This is hot water.” Kugu said. She tried not to snicker. She took another sip, maintaining eye contact.

“Um. Nah. It’s tea! Brewed with love.” Aurum said calmly. His face was calm, and holding back nervous laughter. He finished the cup. The soft tap of his cup on the table sounded, before he gently poured himself more.

“It is warm, and maybe burnt. A little calming. Things we make for others, are of lesser quality; But still valued.” Aurum continued. Kugu put her hand over Aurum’s cup, before he could pick it up. She had started giggling. It’s contagious nature causing Aurum to join her.

“Alright, fine. I dropped the previous pot and improvised.” He admitted. Kugu took her cup and also refilled it. It was like a child’s tea-party. They drank simultaneously.

“Thank you for the tea.” Kugu bowed. Aurum put his cup down.

“It’s hot water.” He looked down biting his lip. Holding back both laughter and embarrasment.

“Yup. Just boiling water. That’s uh… Yup.” Kugu requited. “You tried though.”

“Hm.” Aurum wilted. “But did it work? The new lady said tea made with love brings inner peace.”He continued. Kugu reluctantly nodded. She thought herself above being swooned by such tomfoolery.

The following evening, Qilin held his basket of requested plums. His lab was fully prepared. Thus, it was time to brew. He didn’t need the sleeping elixirs himself anymore, but knew it was useful enough to make regardless. He remembered Kugu showing interest. While Qilin worked by the stove and couldon, and the sun set, and sweat dripped. His mother silently entered while her son was lost in his craft. Smiling, she sat by the table.

“Mind if I watch? Your brothers said they find people using magic unsettling, and refused to visit. I brought your sister though.” She gleamed.

“You want to stay up all night, watching me brew random things, cook rice, and make mystical jam?” Qilin checked. His mother nodded, and little sister smiled.

“I want to see why you love it. I always wondered where potions came from. You turn all these pieces of fey, into substances that help us. Like making tea, that cna make anything happen.” His mother said. Qilin lit the stove with moon fire. She flinched, but held her ground. Qilin smiled to comfort her. He enjoyed her company, but didn’t need to say it. His inner child was happy to have his mother to himself, after so long. She was his greatest blessing.

“Is Doi Veng what you dreamed? Is being a wizard what you imagined, Lin?” His mother asked. They shared rice while they watched the pot simmer. It had a crisp and sweet scent, akin to pure vanilla.

“Well, no. It was really exciting, I guess. But somehow, I thought wizardry would be cooler than cooking by another name.” Qilin sighed. “Doi Veng is as magical and whimsical as I thought, but it doesn’t feel that way. It’s simply another place now. I think I got my Happily Ever After, and everything lost its flavour. In a good way. It melted into perfectly still water.”

“I like it here. I came because you inspired me, Lin. You’re full of good ideas. Once I came here, I became content with the flavour of my life. It had been so long since I felt that. Like the rain no longer stops me from going about a day. It’s so colourful, and the things speak. I find the clothing comfortable, and have time to paint more scrolls. Now that all my babies are grown, I have time to spend with them.” Qilin’s mother explained. He gave a small chuckle and stirred the pot; Scrapping the thickened jam on the side back in.

“I have no clue what made me choose any of this, nor why I’m ok with it. I almost hate that it worked out so nicely. You gave me doubt. Maybe something inside, decided I wanted to do something random, right that minute; I kept saying yes, and I ended up here.” Qilin said, checking his watch. He looked out the window, as a soft light illumined the village. Qilin pulled his mother in, and they looked into the pot.

“This is the best part; And what separates a cauldron from a crock-pot.” He jitterred. As light beamed against the cracks of the roof, the jam went from purple to opalescent blue. Qilin jumped up in laughter, hopped in circles, and hugged his mom. Success!

Qilin’s mother and sister watched keenly, as he used a small spatula to pour the elixir into violet labelled vials, with floral caps. They shimmered like his smile. Around him, the glassware glittered brilliant colours, in every inch of the shop; Glistening jewels, that made one see more the longer they looked. A memory being made.

“This must be the best part.” His mother said.

“Actually, it is one of many good parts.”

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talesofealdancynedom · 5 months

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Tales of Ealden Cynedom: 24. The Small Apothocary (4/5)

Tale 43:The Small Apothecary (chapter 4 - The Plum Trees 4/5 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams

“Well?” Qilin smiled.

“What are you grateful for, Lin?” Aurum grinned. His own father would always ask the same. You can tell a lot about a person from what they appriciate.

“Having the opportunity to live here with my family. You?” Qilin smirked. Aurum stalled, and looked into the brushed bell brass before him.

“Why are you crying?” Qilin whispered.

“It does not matter why I am sad. I get sad sometimes, then it goes away. I concentrate only on emptiness.” Aurum sighed, melting into his posture.

“Then how do you process emptiness? How do you let go?”

Aurum spent three hours coaxing the trees to give up a few plums to help Qilin.

Aurum walked over to crouch next to Kugu; The garden was empty in the afternoon. All they heard was birds and fey whipers.

“Thanks.” Aurum smiled.

“I just want a regular sleep cycle.”

“I don’t need pity.” Kugu scoffed.

“Maybe you need tea? I’ve heard good things about tea. I’d love to make some for you some time.” Aurum tensed. Kugu laughed a little. The carp gave them scales.

“Why are you crying?” Kugu asked. Silence.

“You don’t have to share.” Kugu shrugged.

“I cry, because today my mind reminds me I can fail.” Qilin admitted.

“The plums hate everyone. You’re not special,” Kugu snorted. “Well, they like me I guess; Enough to give the other half of your ingredients when I requested your potion.”

“Thanks. Now tell me your secrets. The fey here are resistant to friendship.” Qilin grined.

“I would have ascended to the next spiritual plane, if I knew the ways of fey.” Kugu rolled her eyes.

“Well, me and Aurum know the ways of fey, and I assure you we’re both currently incompetent.”

“He offered to let me watch him burn himself on a stove; To make tea to warm me. Something about it having special properties.”

“Probably something my mom said.”

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talesofealdancynedom · 5 months

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Qilin in his fairy robes, and new lab.

Tale 43: The Small Apothecary (chapter 3 - The Fair Lady 3/5 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams

When the school year ended, Qilin came home with his magic license; A full fledged wizard. There was no ceremony, as students who graduated with enough credits for a license, were given their’s directly from the Principal. Qilin cried when he held it. The stiff paper, handwritten and foiled; enchanted with a spell so it may never wither. Qilin’s only regret, was that he didn’t ask the potion’s master for her recipes.

After an exhausting trip home, Qilin walked up to the apartment building with a saigh. Neighbours yelling, a fire alarm, overgrown grass; There’s no place like home. Quilin couldn’t wait to show his license to his mother. If it weren’t for her, he’d never know his dreams. But before he hit the buzzer, another occupant threw an empty soda can at him.

“Your mom left. Looks like all four parents want to stay away from you!” The kid yelled. Qilin pressed the buzzer without acknowledging their existence. The land lord came up quickly.

“Lin, I’m sorry. They left,” He said, cracking the screen door. “But your mother told me to give this to you.” He handing over an envelope. Qilin took it, feeling suddenly weak.

“Thanks.” He responded despondently. The man stood there a minute. He nodded and lingered. Qilin blankly stared at land lord.

“You want me to open it now, because you’re curious what’s inside, aren’t you?” Qilin sighed. The land lord twitched, and gesticulated through the stages of grief.

Qilin went on a boat, then a train, another train, followed by another boat, and one last train to Doi Veng. His mother had left him all the tickets he needed; Even some money for food. She had planned it all. Qilin could barely contain his excitement. Along the way, every person next to him, seat or booth, got to hear his rambling praise of his mother and Doi Veng. Qilin was off to be an Apothecary surrounded by the childlike wonders of this world. His dream completed with his mother and a heroic mage.

Miles of tall chipping red walls, protected Doi Veng; They were intimidating to any who neared them. They stood seven-stories, resistant to time and natures wrath. The very top hosed slanted roves, of black liquored arched tile. The many ornate layers of the massive black entrance, had wavy spires on the eaves; fluid designs, similar to a candle’s flame. The door was as immeasurable as the walls. Before Qilin even knocked, the beast unlatched, and silently opened. Magic never ceased to take his breath.

“You’re the new kid, right?” A young woman groaned. She stood slouching, on the other side of the wall; Wearing plain pants, and a traditional chest wrap. She waved for him to follow, as the door closed behind them. She was paler than the sky, and had an unwelcoming aura, unlike many of the Eastland people. Her lustrous brown hair was done up so intricately, with ornate pins, that only a loved one could have done it for her. She had the step of a wandering goat, and posture of a wet box. Qilin asked for her name, and if she was well; But, she just pointed to the temple. It was of equal disarray and grandeur. The temple stood mostly intact, surrounded by the rice fields; Oranges and incense in tipped bowls, strewn about the eroded stone steps. Trees and vines grew out of, and threw, it’s arches. People wrapped in metal and saffron silks, sat perched like golden hens. Qilin clutched his poetry. He could hardly wait to go there, after hugging his mother.

The sights enthralled Qilin further, as the young lady led him up the butte’s ochre strata. Carpenter nymphs, jade lions, and three-legged crows, perched along the path. Stripes of verdant rice fields were visible below, as they ascended into shimmering blue skies. across the tropical marshy yonder farms, the steaming mist of the tropical air loomed. They crossed several red bridges over soothing falls, that shone bright against the grooves. However, the scrambles made Qilin to wish he hadn’t skipped gym in school.

Qilin got lost in the labyrinth walk, that formed the streets of the village. He kept smiling hello at everyone, and greeted the fey. There were springs for bathing, sights to see, and orchards of blushing legendary fruit trees. The trickle of water, and sound of birds. Scent of burning incense and wet rock. It was dinner, by the time he stopped at an open door; His mother patiently waiting for him.

“My boy! Come here!” She smiled, hugging Qilin. There embrace and breath lasted just long enough. However, when Qilin saw his siblings, they looked angered. Qilin tentatively crawled up and into the house. He showed off his license, and new brewing equipment; He had just seen the perfect place to set up shop; A shack by the orchards. No one but his mother seemed interested.

“Enough about me then; How about you?” Qilin asked his brothers.

“We got jobs instantly. There’s a nice sorceress on the flats I fancy. I bring her the sweets I bake when she goes to the bathing house.” His middle brother said. Qilin nodded.

“Mother, when will he be here?” The eldest brother asked.

“That’s not being very present; Did you not prepare for this sanctuary?” Qilin scoffed. “Wait. He?”

“Aurum is most kindly! He offered to bring us his special-order noodles.”

“That’s nice of him. Wait, the mage!? You mean I get to meet Aurum?!” Qilin gasped. “That’s so nice that he offers food to people, even though that’s not a Witch’s prerogative.”

“No, dear. He can’t cook. Every other evening he brings us food the lady he likes won’t accept. But yes, he is otherwise charitable with honest.”

“Ah. Well, I learned the hard way, that it’s not good to pursue someone that aggressively. He must not be one for accepting things... Who is this girl? This place is small; do we know her?” Qilin said. Still fresh from school, he was not above the gossiping.

“No. We’ve yet to see Kugu. Actually, I’m uncertain if he’s seen her either. Her father is pulling that poor boy’s leg too,” His mother sighed. “But speaking of boys, I haven’t seen a single queer fellow your age here. Given you came alone, I assume you didn’t find love.”

“I don’t feel like I have to.” Qilin affirmed, with youth within him. Aurum was at the door the whole time, with the tins of curry and broken rice; Just as predicted.

“I genuinely bought these for you this time! I sensed Qilin enter the gate.” Aurum said. His soft golden gaze looked right through Qilin. A that is as vacant as he is soothing.

Over the meal, Qilin asked Aurum to take him to the temple; Which he enthusiastically agreed. However, Aurum avoided each question about his fame and family. Qilin received a map from his mom, and he made a list of ingredients. It was time to settle into his new job. What is an apothecary, without a well stocked inventory. Since Aurum was incompetent at preparing anything, Qilin found his services in higher demand then he thought. He began to wonder why his mother told him things might be to good to be true.

After breakfast Aurum decided to visit Qilin again, to make sure the boy was not going to be a bigoted wizard. He brought jade and bronze tools, that were made by an ancient mage of Doi Veng; They did the opposite of what they should. The gong absorbing noise, a singing bowl causing anxiety, and a blade that repaired anything. Wonders that symbolized of the water’s way. Purified prizes of Doi Veng’s very being. Surely a kind wizard, would marvel at such things. However, Qilin’s awe was breif; He had a shop to set up. But the jade collection reminded him of the temple, and thus the odd lady who led him here. Qilin stopped Aurum before he could leave. If Aurum was a witch, that meant he must know everyone here, magic or mundane.

“Who was that girl in simple clothes? She had auburn hair, done up with garnet and silver pins. Any time I asked her something, she pointed to the temple.” Qilin inquired. Aurum inhaled, as his face lit up:

“You saw her! You saw Kugu!” Aurum exclaimed. “I was so worried. I spent the past two day’s looking for her, on behalf of her mother. Kugu had bribed the fey to stay quiet. Thank you, Lin.” Aurum beamed like the rays of dawn.

“For a place so set on the becoming one with serenity, everyone sure seems over the top...” Qilin murmured. Aurum shrunk. He thought he was making progress in calming his mind. First it was anger at his family, and now it was a girl. He went grey.

“Qilin, that’s a bit out of touch. Aurum, don’t take that so hard; It can take a lifetime to accept all things,” Qilin’s mother said, staring down her son. “By the way, Aurum, I was told you hadn’t seen or met Kugu...”

“Her father must have told everyone that. That’s an odd rumour to believe, given i visit everyone who comes here. Not to mention, one doesn’t just fall for someone they’ve never met.” Aurum laughed, hopping out the door.

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talesofealdancynedom · 5 months

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Tales of Ealden Cynedom 43: The Small Apothecary (2/5)

Tale 43:The Small Apothecary (chapter 2 - A Gold Watch 2/5 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams

Aurum stood on the red lacquer bridge, that crossed one of the many waterfalls of enchanted springs. The bridge was crossed precisely half-way up the Skyward Falls. One could see the withing the soothing, and glittering waters, the vague shimmer of golden scales. The water was bright teal, and was breathed by a serpent cloud dragon. Which is not to be confused with the dragon Aurum came to interrogate. The water fall’s occupant, was a gold luck serpent, that hoarded watches; That ended up collecting at the pool below.

“I have this special alchemized one here!” Aurum gleamed, holding up a high end gold and craft leather watch. He leaned forward, to present the magnificent prize.

“But I found this one. Meaning, it has flowed into my possession. It is meant to be in my clutches.” The dragon retorted, poking its nose from the falls.

“We cannot possess without not-possessing; Thus, that watch is not yours, even if you claim it. What I propose an equivalent exchange: If that specific, gold, minted, Grand West made, watch flowed back into the pocket of its owner, and this practically identical, mage made, dazzling replica flowed into your hoard, wouldthat really change things? To dragons that hoard specific treasures, surely the human assigned meaning of a trinket, is truely proven meaningless. Aren’t all watches equal, if they all fulfill your desires?”

“Perhaps.” The dragon said, stubbornly. There was a silence.

“Oh come on, Goober! I’m trying my best here! Remember what my brother did to you last time?” Aurum huffed, holding out the replica in one hand, and an open receiving palm in the other. He leaned further forward in frustration.

“I’m your witch! Everyone asked for this! Even me! Being a witch is to negotiate between men and magic; I’m not backing down!” Aurum exclaimed. Upon exhaling, he tipped over the rail, and into the steaming pool full of watches. Aurum’s hand remained above the surface, offering the fake watch.

“Oh fine. But if-”

“Thanks Goober! I’ll see you tomorrow!” Aurum gasped, when he surfaced. A large talon handed him the authentic watch, and Aurum waded to the shore. With his cotton wraps drenched, he walked back to the village, while checking the watch for damage.

In the village, Aurum headed to the door of the watch’s owner. They were one of two families to move in that week. As a Witch, a diplomat of magic matters, Aurum took pride in knowing every occupant of the butte. Which included eavesdropping on the man who had radically accepted the loss of his property. Regardless, Aurum wanted to return the watch, and knocked on the door. After a moment the door slid open.

“Oh, you’re that idiot who keeps this legendary oasis.”

“Oh sir, we do not use judgments in this sanctuary.” Aurum said calmly, handing the watch over. He tried to sneak a quick look into the house.

“If you took offence to my adjectives, I fear it is you are the one not practising our philosaphy,” The man smiled. He bowed taking the watch. “Thank you for returning this, but it is but an object to me.” He continued, gently sliding the door closed, with a saticfying woosh and clunk of wood-on-wood; cutting off Aurum. He was working hard on the ways of water, to overcome childhood neglect; But his mind was bruised by those words. Pent-up young rage, clung to his overzelous personality.

“Your clothes.” Aurum’s pony familiar said, nuzzling his master’s side. Aurum looked down to the clear wet cloth of his shirt, and back at the door. His soul nearly left his body.

The reason Aurum wished to peak into that abode, was that the man was the father the most radiant daughter of this paradise. In Aurum’s opinion. Aurum spent the day trying to leave his immodesty before that man it in the past. No judgments. These emotions will pass. He kept repeating.

After burning his soup again, Aurum decided to just buy some. He ended up in his nice sampot, picking up an extra pot of curried noodles. He decided to visit the father’s door again. Unimpressed, the man still exchanged the traditional smile and wave greeting. This greeting was unlike by people from all lands, due to how fake it was.

“I brought noodles for your daughter,” Aurum smiled. “I hear you have brought her here, to support her in her troubles. I wish to do the same. My mother seldom ate, nor cooked for us, when she too was drowning in a tide of woe.”

“Kugu hasn’t left the house since we got here. How do you know of my daughter’s crippling depression?” The man glared.

“Magic?” Aurum shrugged. He put on his charming golden smile again, offering the dinner. Aurum was told his smile could warm the heart of the coldest man. The father scowled, then looked down the hall.

“Kugu, the mage has brought you food as a gesture of love.” He yelled. He waited to the count of fifteen seconds of utter silence. He then stared at Aurum coldly.

“It appears my daughter will not eat now. maybe the other new family may need support?” The father said, sliding the door closed again.

“I will now walk.” Aurum said absently, staring at the spires on the arched eaves. He did a loop of the labyrinth, before settling at a komiho’s feet, to eat his pot of noodles. He used the traditional large chopsticks, and liked that the chief knew he preffered extra chilli, lemongrass, and coconut. Aurum got up, grabbed the reins of his familiar, and continued to walk until he arrived at the door of the new family. He knocked, the door slid open, and a kneeling lady with a little girl looked up at him. She looked worn, cold, and thin. Her layers of cloth hung loose, and her hair uncempt. Aurum held out the food, his face overcast.

“I bought extra food, but I have no one to share it with. I am the local Witch, Aurum Bridlebellen. I apologize for not introducing myself sooner. If you see me, never be scared to ask for help.” He said in a meandering voice. The woman tenderly smiled, and took the food; It was still warm.

“Thank you dearly. You are as my children hear.” The woman smiled. Aurum looked into the unfurnished home. Pristine screen walls and matted floors. A single vibrant and gilded scroll hung mid wall.

“Your home is vacant; Where are your loved ones?”

“My boys are at work or school. One bakes, another builds, and last brews.”

“Rice cake, temples, and beer?”

“Better! A potions master who just graduated with so many credits, he can work immediately! He will be here in two seasons, to aid this community with you. Do you wish to stay for tea?” She smiled, gesturing into her home. Aurum tensed at the word Apothacary; A wizard was intended to work with him peacefully. He disliked wizards. But, that woman’s warmth was alluring. Aurum crawled in, and held the child who he couldn’t help but share laughter with.

“You flinched hearing my second youngest was a wizard. Is this because of your Whitestead family, Who left this place nearly as worn as me?” The mother continued, starting to eat. Aurum wilted.

“Yes. Your son might be disappointed. The Tree Fey here have only just recovered from the reaping; They may be shy to share their gifts with him.”

“Surely an acclaimed, love-struck, two-cents, kindly witch, could help with that?” She giggled. Aurum let out a wheeze.

“Thanks for the tea, it’s lovely.” He said, to calm himself.

“Why don’t you take some with you? I have plenty.” She chimed in return. “Nothing says inner peace, like a warm quality drink made with love.”

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talesofealdancynedom · 6 months

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The wall Scroll of Doi Veng; hours of Thai art and a scanner's inability to digitize red and blue.

Tale 43:The Small Apothecary (chapter 1 - The Wall Scroll 1/5 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams

Qilin Celestine was on a cushion, at the low dining table, eating reconstituted soup from the food bank. The white lights of the apartment flickered, emphasizing the sloppy white paint, and the decaying infrastructure. The light scent of drywall, and cooking, lingered. He stared into a painting of a Naga. Teal, red, and gold-leaf; Dapicted with unicorn, with vibrant simpor and Ratchaphreuk. This single scroll, was the only colourful thing in their unit. While he was lost in it’s beauty, Qulin’s brothers started fighting again, and his mother was soothing the toddler. Qinin gazed deeper into the scroll.

All four of the children had different fathers. The last ‘dad’, left to ‘work’ abroad eighteen-months ago. Qilin felt unwanted, in spire of his mother’s love. It left him wanting to escape somewhere truly enchanted. Somewhere with colour and whimsy. The painting was the most magical thing in the room, and thus a glimmer of escape. It was something that connected Qilin to his heritage; He knew little of the Eastlands, having been born in the Grand West. Sometimes, his mother would tell them stories from that distant land, and give proverbs from the Philosophy of Water. But it wasn’t enough; Qilin hated his cramped home: His mother sweet and desperate, no paternal figures, and his brothers beat him up after school for not doing chores.

On that day, when he was dazzled by the scroll, something in Qinin snapped.

“I want to be a wizard.” He said abruptly, in the middle of his bickering family. There was anger in his assertion. He got no response. Qilin simply slumped, and hopelessly attempted to get the bits from the soup with his chopsticks; Longing for the resurrection of their rice-cooker. and chili oil. Qilin sighed, as he left the table. In the next room, he unrolled his sleeping duvet, in their shared bedroom, and retired early. As the house quieted, Qilin heard his mother gather her things for a night shift. When the door creaked open, Qilin pretended to sleep. Then his mother knelt to his back, and kissed his cheek.

“I filled out an application for the International and Troubled Youth Academy. It’s across the isle. The only thing missing, is the field of wizardry you want to work in.” She whispered.

“We don’t have the money mom. Even if one of my three dads is paying child-support.”

“It’s a public-school, Lin. They can help you. Maybe you can meet someone to love, or find a friend from the Eastlands. There’s boarding, and you need space to grow. Even I will rest well knowing you’re taken care of and heading toward happiness.”

“Fine. Apothecary, maybe? I like flowers. Yellow ones.” Qilin sighed. Before she left, he rolled over to give her a soft hug goodnight. He drifted off in comfort. She was the thing in his was most grateful for.

Qilin arrived on campus alone, with a book of water philosophy poetry, a wand, and freedom from his low-income abode. He got excellent grades the first month. The second month he got detention for coming onto another gay student, and snapping back at a teacher. His sentence was helping fey professor Hara water the floral fey in the conservatory. Perverts the lot of them. Made Qilin smile; They understood him. It was as if each day, magic brought him joy in new ways. He felt being an Apothecary was the perfect choice.

“Master Fyrstan, the magic of Tree Kingdom’s gifts very, depending on if I ask or not; Is this garden where all the potion ingredients come from?” Qilin asked.

“No. Alas, we have to source from other nations. All schools do that. The Tree King shares her generous children with all; Normally by placing her said children, in the strangest and most random locations.” Hara shrugged.

“Professor, have you ever seen a Ruffled Dok Champa? Or Winter Blood Ceros? They make powerful S-Rank healing potions; I’ve always wanted to talk to one. Do you think I’ll ever be a good enough Apothecary to do so? What if they don’t like me, for asking for their gifts?”

“Don’t worry about that; They love to give. As for your enchanted flowers, I’ve never seen the first sort; They’re exclusive to Doi Veng Butte in the Eastlands. A self-sustaining magic forest I read. Nothing leaves that heritage site. It’s Grand Snow, but with less publicity.” Hara said. He was enthralled to have an engaged student,

“Regardless, you’re only in first year. Thing’s like that, are dreams awaiting you post graduation. And I bet you’ll make a fine Apothecary yet, Qilin. Fine enough to graduate right into the feild.” He smiled. Qilin took that as a challenge. It made him giddy to hear. As Qilin tried alchemizing water for the fey, he held onto Hara’s insight on his favourite healing flowers. Doi Veng was the grandest Magic Forest of The Eastlands. Of the kingdom of Vieticia. Hara done his duty as a teacher. Qilin was even more inspired; More desperately desiring the Golden Butte’s haven. Somewhere away from his home-life, and a place to belong to. The scroll could become reality.

In third year, Qilin’s pursuit of the adorable Far South boy, Rah, was abruptly halted. Not just because his flirting had resulted in punishment; Rah had became spoken for, by the Fish Kingdom. When she called, Qilin’s mother berated him about harassing people; She seldom got mad, and she was frustrated by his lack of character growth. It made Qilin sink. He was so far from her. Maybe he liked the idea of having a boyfriend, to just have someone to love him. Perhaps, it was the human need for attention, given his childhood. Qilin was left meditating in his dorm-room, with the unrelenting feeling of shame and loneliness.

By the next year, Qilin’s hard work made him the school’s top Apothecary student; Nearly S-rank in mid year. The prestige of an Apothecary, was indicated by the letter-rank of the potions they’d perfected: A to Z, where Z was the most complex and forbidden brews. Hours of fascinating books, and obsession with novel ingredients the professors gave him. Qilin’s competitive spirit thrived. This was better then his heart imagined. He ceased each chance, and persisted until he achieved perfection. Qilin let go of the idea of romance, and wed his studies.

Yet, being alone weighed on him. Qilin tuned into the Eastland station, on the radio, as a distraction, while he concocted advanced potions; for extra credit, or detention if the recipe was dangerous. Good or bad, all results fed his addiction to attention.

Like the scroll, that radio was all Qilin had for his culture. Even though his mother assumed an international school would have Eastlanders, Qilin turned out to be the only one. It seemed, there were peers from everywhere else. The scroll and a radio continued to be his only connection to the tropical far-off land; A place known for spicy food and mythical golden flowers. His mother and siblings always talked Modern Vietician at home, so he was the only one who understood the news and music. It became company enough. He was unable to make friends as school progressed. It truth, it made him aggressive, and his academic achievements made other students envy him.

When Qilin went home that year, the potions professor let him take the lab radio. He listened to it at home. As the high of an exciting school life wore off, Qilin found himself crying silently in the night. Being surrounded by supportive people at school, and a better quality of life, made him comprehend the extent of his poor hand in life.

The apartment was hot over the summer, and Qilin’s brothers were off working now. However, he couldn’t work in the summer, as Qilin had to babysit his little sister. But his mother was home a little more, to share time with him. She had a better position at work, and missed him over the semesters. But still, he could hear her shame for being unable to provide, in the quiver of her voice. Qilin sat on his cushion, eating instant noodles while drifting into the scroll again. After studying magic, he could finally recognize it; It was of Doi Veng.

Right before the next school year, there was news that Doi Veng had a mage. Qilin had met some mages in school. They were to nice for all the rumours of their dark powers to be true. Hara for one, seemed to glow of magic’s joviality. Qilin realized they were simply talented obsessed nerds. Like him. So when hearing he may work with one in the future, Qilin jumped over the low table to turn of the dial. He was in his pajamas, on all fours. Whitestead had ravished the legendary butte’s wonders, and their son, Aurum, found out he was a mage in a presentation. He was imprisoned, which is odd, as laws were loose in a nation of non-judgmental egalitarian culture. According to the news, Doi Veng’s community finally had an opinion; They protested successfully for Aurum’s freedom, and elected him as their Witch. Qilin gasped at the strength it must have taken, to stand up against such powerful wizards; Surviving persecution, and work to the bone to be a beloved sweet community mage.

“That mom! I want to be like that! I want to be in a community of magic users, atop the golden meditation labyrinths of Doi Veng! Strength and serenity among people like me! Flowing with the philosiphy of the water’s way” Qilin cheered. For once, no silence. His mother nudged the bowl of yesterdays rice at his arm.

“I warn against looking too far into your future, and being so invested in your aspirations. And assigning thoughts to people and places you’ve never known? Things may not be as perfect as you think. Now eat before you miss the boat across the isle. You have another year of school left.” His mother said calmly.

Qilin got stitches running to the marina. He felt his sweat. Fear instilled, not two years before graduation. What if it’s not what I imagined? Moving won’t fix my family, nor me. Qilin pondered. Deeply breathing the salty air, reflecting on his work and wayward soul: What if I’m not accepted as a local Apothecary, when they have a mage? And will the temple take me, and road be rough, because my stubborn obsession and thirst for love, made me stray to far to one side?

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talesofealdancynedom · 1 year

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Ouroboros in casual clothes, in the springtime fire weed; Pardon the Tumblr resampling...

40. The Fire weed (chapter 4 - A Candle 4/4) part 8. Stories of Dreams.

Once the shock wore off, many began to have concern for Ouroboros. He was sick in the healing cabin for ten days after the ceremony; Leaving the village without a doctor. He then spent ten more days, within the walls of his inherited lumber cabin. The gold liquored arched ceiling, dragon carved eaves, large fireplace, and fur throw beds in the loft. The hide and bone decorations, made from Hydra’s hunts, hung bittersweetly. Ouroboros, had little apatite, and when Ragnar visited, he found Ouroboros not one for conversation. His once passionate flame, and gone out.

Soon the fey asked for Ouroboros. People wondered if he’d actually recovered from his illness, or passed from a broken heart. But he was simply sitting there in an empty hall, devoured by emptiness. While he chopped wood, he wondered if there was anything he could have done differently. While bathing Basil and Levi, he ran through his day’s roster; Eventually becoming overwhelmed, and doing nothing. It was easier to cry, or stay home looking after children, then caring for himself; Even if it brought up now sour memories of his father’s care for him.

After three weeks, Quetzalcoatl visited. She’d been doing much the same. She stopped wearing kohl, as it kept smudging. She took off her silver, and didn’t put finger-loops in her sunny hair. Her grief had stripped her culture from her. It had been so isolating, she missed her brother now. As she sat by window, of her and Ragnar’s cabin, she saw there was a delivery of medical supplies; Arriving behind a Goldenscale daughter by the ridge as always. When she looked for her brother by the healing cabin, he wasn’t there to receive the order. She’d had enough; Quetzalcoatl got up, and went to Ouroboros’s house to summon him.

“Ouroboros, come out; The medicine has come.” Quetzalcoatl knocked. Silence. “Please? Not even to embrace your big sister? It’s been long since we talked; Can we be ready to support each other?” She persisted. Still silence. Quetzalcoatl drooped and gave a good tug at the door, to no avail; Yet, Quetzalcoatl swore her childhood home had no locks. She banged once more, and yelled for her brother. it turned into gasping and crying, as she slouched to her knees, with her forehead gently leant against the door.

“Quetzalcoatl, can I help you?” Saianne said, coming from the back. “You sound like you need a friend.” She said, crouching next to Quetzalcoatl.

“Is brother, ok?”

“He’s never been broken. He’d stay strong for the world, but I think this is the final straw. I think he needs to finally be sad. Blindingly bright passion can’t burn forever.” Saianne whispered. “He’s trying his best, but each time I say so, but I can tell he doesn’t believe me anymore. It hurts; He’s my world, as are our children. I can’t bare to see him so cold. It reminds me of loosing control.” She shivered. Quetzalcoatl looked at Saianne, and curled into a ball. Saianne rocked slightly, trying to hold it back.

“Are you sure I can’t help you in any way, Quetzalcoatl?” Saianne continued.

“Can you physically pull my brother to the medicine storage room?” Quetzalcoatl asked. Saianne looked up in surprise.

“That’s today?” She tilted her head. Quetzalcoatl nodded. With a smile Saianne agreed; She was of equal stature to her husband, who’d never fight her. Saianne picked up a branch, and transmuted it into a sharp knife. She began sawing between the doors.

“Rope?” Quetzalcoatl whispered. “He just tied the nobs together with hemp?!”

“He’s been tying them at the same rate I’ve been cutting; I’ve been trying to get in for fifteen minutes, to feed the twins. When I open it, tackle him, and then I’ll start dragging.”

Saianne helped Ouroboros put away the medicine and supplies. She’d stop intermittently to kiss his cheek. Ouroboros would return the favour. While her brother was distracted, Quetzalcoatl tried to read some of the bottles; Curious what Ouroboros was giving them. She examined them carefully but couldn’t read the labels.

“Is this your medication? Or the stuff they put in the needles we get?” Quetzalcoatl asked. Ouroboros nodded.

“Do you think we’d have more siblings right now, if we got these sooner? When they found out our blood had dirty?” She continued. To her surprise, Ouroboros turned to give her a golden glare.

“It’s not safe for children and infants, correct?” Ragnar said from the doorway. Ouroboros nodded, and took the vile from his sister. “Let me help; I can read the labels.” Ragnar said, sitting next to Ouroboros and the cool bin. Quetzalcoatl returned to sheet folding.

“You know, the Westlands spend a lot of money and effort to make sure these sanitary instruments, are the only modern convivence to pass the winter barrier.” Ragnar said, handling each with upmost care. “It seems unfair to control your breeding and technological advancement; Such things lead to longer, better, lives. But each time I come here, and talked of things like indoor lighting, Hydra laughed. Like that was more magical than a nymph chugging milk from a mead horn. Hydra said he had lived a perfect and long life already, right here. The tribulations of his traditional life, were what made him treasure it without regret. Also, something about boar bacon...” Ragnar mused. Ouroboros gave a little chuckle at the last part.

“Having seen outside this summit, do you think electricity is the real witchcraft Ouroboros? And I’m a fool, for giving up my years to be a wizard; Just to end up a commoner atop a mountain, pissing into a chamber pot?” Ragnar prompted. Ouroboros closed the fridge and shrugged.

“Absolutely. All that money, and a decade of your life.” Saianne taunted, putting away the sheets. “But again, I spent so long looking out a window, and now regretting it; I’m a bit biased. Now, I get to live a longer and better life here, just like Hydra.” Saianne sighed. Ragnar grimaced.

“But, speaking of living, has anyone wandered through that field of purple flowers?” Saianne cooed. She pulled out a blue baby blanket; Worn, soft, and smelt of cedar and tallow soap.

“Purple flowers? But the herbs have already bloomed. Do you mean fireweed? You know, it makes the best honey. Did you see some? Due to the abundance of magic trees, we don’t get many fires; Or try not too.” Quetzalcoatl perked up. Ouroboros too. They’d never seen fireweed outside art before. The flower that only grows after a forest fire; Requiring the flames to open its seeds in new clearings. Ouroboros went pale, and jumped up and out the door. He ran around back, and past the geese, to the clearing where he’d gone dark. Like a child hearing his hero was in town. He gasped at the sight: It was blooming for yards. Bees and pixies examining the flowers. It was like stalks of amethyst, gently blowing like chimes over the blackened earth. Some people joined him, happy to see Ouroboros alive and that his light rekindled. The change was so sudden, Saianne ran over to clutch his arm in worry.

“Ouroboros! Don’t do that! Stop scaring me!” Saianne said. She heard their sons wake in their cabin, two doors down. “I don’t understand. We’re not done with the supplies and need to go home. They’re just flowers, Ouroboros.”

“They’re beautiful.” Ouroboros said, gently brushing his hand over them. “Do you think father would have loved to see them Saianne?”

“I think he wasn’t a flower person,” Quetzalcoatl smiled. “Unless there on a bride. Nope. I’m certain he’d be thinking entirely about the superb honeyed bread we’re about to have.”

“Then he’d say he would start the bath, as we’d get all sticky like when were kids.” Ouroboros added. The memory brought him both pain and joy. “I’d sit at the table before cooling loaves, while father simmered the honey so I could safely eat it. It was best when everything was still warm.”

“Oh, and while you ate, he’d put the rest in a jar by the stove, with yeast and water.” Ragnar chuckled. “Does recalling life’s little joys, like these blooms, make it hurt a little less or a little more?” he asked, seeing Ouroboros smile again.

“Neither. It makes me want new moments of wonder. It reminds me I have a Happily Ever After, and that spell will give me rose glasses if I hold on. Makes me remember my dad had one too, even if he worried for me and mother was gone. Means it was worth it. Being helpless in exchange for things we’d never change. And now I’m a bit sad again…” Ouroboros said picking some flowers. He looked up, and there seemed to be even more bloom.

“Um, does it look like their spreading to anyone?”

“Maybe I overdid the bountiful harvest balled at dawn…” Saianne murmured, stepping back, and pulling Ouroboros with her to go home.

“Well, too late now I guess.” Ouroboros said. “On the other hand, I can’t wait to tell this to our kids when their older. Incessantly. At every dinner conversation.”

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Tales of Ealden Cynedom: 40. The Fire Weed (3/4)

40. The Fire weed (chapter 3 - Burning Pyre 3/4) part 8. Stories of Dreams.

The next spring, Ouroboros and Saianne graduated from Pepperidge Magic Academy; And swiftly returned to Grand Snow. Ouroboros had a license to order medical supplies, and administer proper care of his home. Ragnar had gone with him once more, suspicious of the outside world. Hydra’s insistence was also a factor. Just as Ouroboros, the eight months away from the village made Ragnar long for it. So much so, he left his post to another magic-user. Ragnar went to work, building a house for his and Quetzalcoatl’s children. Everyone returned changed. Most shockingly, was that Saianne was about to bare some children against all the odds. The fear and excitement between her and Ouroboros was gritting. As for Hydra, he was more then happy to help raise more miracles; Yet he had changed the least. Ouroboros’s absence had only fed his fear of loosing his son; Small joyful moments, turned into obsessive, weary, anxious, savouring.

As Ragnar constructed a cabin amongst the others, Hydra sat by the lake cutting rabbits for cooking. The nymphs huddled under a single tree by the lake. Saianne’s crisp tune calved the glaciers, as the grass became green. Her song filling the air with warmth. Ouroboros joined his father, after playing with some children by the shore; They dared each other to swim in the fridged lake.

“Father, you look tired.” Ouroboros said. Hydra gently slid is knife along the meat, nodding to Saianne’s tune. Not even Hydra’s apprentices could carve an animal so cleanly. His ease was mesmerizing.

“They say I should retire. Become an elder, and loaf wile sharing wisdom, giving orders, and caring for children.” Hydra scoffed. He was admittedly worn and thirsted for such things; But the village needed him. Ouroboros ruffled his father’s silver braided hair.

“But that’s good; We get to spend more time together. I can tell you want to, after all we’ve lived through. Actually, I want that too,” Ouroboros sighed. “That’s why I told the elders you decided to join them, on your behalf. I know you avoid hard things.”

“I suppose. I owe you a great thanks; Just when I thought I couldn’t love you more.” Hydra smiled. “Now then, would Saianne like her meat stewed, salted, or smoked?” He gestured to the freshly prepared bunnies.

“There’s so much meat… Roasting Maybe? Save the rest? I just refreshed the freezing spell in the cold shack, so nothing will go bad. Ice fire is so handy! One lamp, and our food is good for two seasons.” Ouroboros giggled. Saianne stumbled over, and grimaced at the raw meat in baskets.

“Smoked?” She shrugged. “Wait. What animal is this again?”

Saianne had twin boys; One who looked like his father, and another who had Saiannes original brown hair. Basilisk and leviathan respectively. It was a family tradition to name people after dragon children. Ouroboros medically recommended him and Saianne don’t have more. Overwhelmed, he froze while holding his two newly born sons, while simultaneously considering Saianne’s medical history. He’d delivered his own children, and felt it must be a dream. Saianne grabbed them from him, still in the birthing chair, the world equally lost to her.

Hydra, Ragnar, and Quetzalcoatl, yelled what the baby’s genders were, once they heard crying. Ouroboros was sobbing, and Saianne called ‘two’. Moment’s later, Ragnar remarked how he mildly disagreed with her contributions to Grand Snow’s linage. Though he had already apologized, everyone in the village slapped him at least once over the following day. Hydra never let him down about such slips of the tongue.

As mid-summer came, Hydra found himself in the house more. He could be seen yearning to join the young men’s hunt, while cuddling all four of his grandchildren. Everyone was so healthy, it nearly brought him to tears; Healing the trauma of all those nights of fear, and lost children. He was becoming calm, as most do with passing years. Often, Ouroboros would join him. Though everyone worried less about Ouroboros getting sick, they forbid him from performing harder dirtier chores. They neglected the fact being their healer, was the riskiest job.

Late summer, Ouroboros and Hydra baked shortbread, and Saianne sung the wells clean. Hydra took joy in bathing the two generation’s he’d sired, before warming by the scent of a bon-fire. The pluck of Quetzalcoatl’s needle was comforting. It was that lull once the children had gone to bed. They were too tired to talk by then. Never enough sleep or time, it would seem. Even with teamwork, and Hydra’s wisdom, Ouroboros dizzied with all his responsibilities. He got sick a few days later, but administered care with the help of his father and Saianne. He stayed in bed for a week. This time, his father decided to stay with him. Fear shivering down him, but trusting Ouroboros was old enough to make it. Each night they said ‘I love you too’, like neither would wake next dawn.

The temptation to run about, like the days of youth, proved too great. Ouroboros and Hydra snuck off to gather herbs for potions, like they have all these years. Plenty of leaves and roots for the coming seasons. They took glee in their secrecy; The array of purple thyme between the conifers, sound of bluebirds, and scent of nettle.

Ouroboros paused his tune. “Father, did you hear that?” he said, perking up. He heard a snap, that didn’t sound like the mountains fey. No giggles of ice wildlings echoed, nor whisper in the breeze. Instead, heavy breathing came from the brush, as Ouroboros began to look around.

“No, why? All I hear is birds, and echo of Saianne’s ballad. It’s a soft one today.” Hydra said, picking raspberries. Then another snap. Ouroboros turned slowly to his father, to see the eyes of a bear. Not an aurora bear, nor golden ursine; But a genuine living bear.

“Father, slowly lay down.” Ouroboros whispered. He lost sensation watching the beast smell his father. It was going for the berries. Then Saianne’s song stopped. Ouroboros, terrified for his father, had gone dark. The magic lit him up with the flames of infinite colours. But he was so close to his father, that Hydra caught dark too; His hair went white, and eyes silver. Inevitably, this spooked the bear, and Ouroboros blew sharp silver fire at it. He grabbed his father and ran; abandoning their finds. They tumbled down the slopes of needles and juniper. Hydra began bleeding from his ears, nose, and mouth; His common elderly body, unable to withstand so much ether. Ouroboros desperately whispered healing fire as they fled. When the two of them landed in the field by the village, Ouroboros called for help. He lay his father down, and summoned healing fire. Hydra remained still. Ouroboros checked a pulse, and found none.

“Dad, wake up.” Ouroboros said, casted more healing spells no result. Ouroboros maintained his dark state, and started chest-compressions.

“Father, we’re safe. Wake up! I can heal you! We’re supposed to cook the fresh peas today.” He went on. After a mix of magic and emergency medicine, Hydra still had no pulse. Ouroboros used the sleeping sword, even though that required a still living patient. Deep down, Ouroboros knew his father was gone. He held him close. Ouroboros was incoherent as he yelled across the field. The fire he was casting off, was consuming the common plants. Saianne swiftly summon water onto the houses, to prevent it’s spread. No one could get close enough to help. She adorned her own fairy robes of delicate white and teal, and walked through the stormy flames, to grasp Ouroboros from behind.

“There was a bear. I went dark. Is it my fault? I tried to heal him. He was alive next to me a moment ago. Now he won’t wake.”

“It was an accident.” Saianne said, rubbing his shoulder. She felt the tug of grief, for a man she knew so shortly. She’d never been close to her own parents. Hydra had made her feel loved. It seemed unreal; He was swaddling the twins an hour ago. They had plans for later that day. Ouroboros was wailing, and casting a storm she’d never imagine. Her grey-dark could turn an entire bay into sentient murderous water, but fire was another animal. Saianne became overwhelmed, and remembered a spell Ouroboros used on her, when she as once overcome. She whispered him to sleep, halting the blaze and suffering. She had returned the favour, and mournfully held the father and son.

Ouroboros became sick as the day went on. He’d caught something again; He suspected the milk wasn’t warmed enough. He administered treatment vacantly. It reminded him of his father trembling at his side for the first time, not long ago. Ouroboros had a cut on his legs from running down the hill, and a fever from going dark. He sat at the back door of the healing cabin, with an IV. Tears smudging his kohl, as he watched people make the pyre: Layered burnt wood, kindle, and pressed oil. A fingly bed for his father. Saianne was inside feeding their son’s, consoling Quetzalcoatl. Ouroboros glazed over. He then staggered to the beach, and received some selenite from the frost nymphs. He gently placed it under the funeral bed.

By last light, they had put Hydra in his favourite clothes, and cleaned him. Ouroboros, as his son, would light the flame as the sun set. He stalled, unable to process. Saianne held his hand. Ragnar was unable to pass the torch; Unwilling to say goodbye to an old friend. They stood in the silence of a darkening sky. The fey were quiet on such occasions. Whipping his face, and feeling weak, Ouroboros inhaled with a faint pink glow. Like a dragon, he blew whispering fire. The soft pink flames of love magic, which warm everything with content, comfort, and care. This was Quellelthan’s fire.

Love magic is exclusive to humanity, and thus not even the Dragon King could conjure such light from his belly. Queen Quellelthan, once a mage of Grand Snow herself, was it’s wielder. This fire took the irrational, tender, deep beating heart of a human soul. There was no better way to send off his father, then the kindle of familial bonds. They stayed up until the fire burned into nothing.

So much soot filled the valley now. There was nothing but ash as Ouroboros reached in to retrieve the fairy selenite. At dawn, he went with Saianne, his children, sister, nieces, and Ragnar, to the burial flats. Saianne had stayed clear from there, though she noticed even Hydra and Ouroboros frequented it. As they climbed the last scramble, they met a snowy white plateau. But it wasn’t snow. It was chunks of Selenite; Each for a loved one who was born and lived in Grand Snow. Ouroboros led them to a specific area, he had visited many times; A circle of eight small stones around a larger one. He gently nudged the large one aside, to place his fathers next those of his wife and lost children. Ouroboros felt to his knees.

“Look; They’re all together again.”

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Saianne in Grand Snow costume.

40. The Fire weed (chapter 2 - Flower Crown 2/4) part 8. Stories of Dreams.

Years later, Ouroboros went picking herbs with his father. Cerberus gave them a list. It was quality father-son time. Ouroboros was in his mid teens, and by local accounts, a man. However, a man that couldn’t shake adoration for small wonders. The trees gently whispered above the early autumn growth. The first frost had come, which resulted in some botanical fey baring special gifts. Ouroboros always took great care handling them; like any living thing. But the fey spoke ominously today. They said ‘a man looking for Cerberus, had been taken by the Fairy King in the barrier’. Ouroboros neglected this, knowing it better then to meddle with Beast Kings. Yet, he deeply pondered why someone might be looking for Cerberus. Eventually Cerberus approached Ouroboros and hydra, who showed their finds.

“Excellent. After the potions, we can practice with the needles and cuff again, Ouroboros; If you’d like.” Cerberus smiled.

“Careful Cerberus, my boy might put you out of a job.” Hydra joked. Ouroboros turned to the thicket, and quietly looked into it.

“Not yet,” Cerberus smiled, summoning a sword. “Ouroboros, I found the sleeping sword; It puts all it cuts into a healing sleep. The records say it belongs to you, the Dragon Mage. Ouroboros? What are you looking at?”

“Is anyone looking for you? A paladin in blue furs, white hair, and bronze eyes?” Ouroboros said. Cerberus went cold. It sounded like his brother, of whom he thought dead. Cerberus shook his head, as his blood further curdled; He wasn’t just here because he wanted to practice field medicine, but because he was an identified mage. They blamed him for what happened to his brother. Mages are killed out of fear, beyond these peaks. Then Ouroboros looked deeper into the brush. He spotted a red hooded lady, with a boy.

“Is Ragnar bringing newcomers here? It’s not been a week since he came, and we delivered my new nephew.” Ouroboros said, turning to his father. In a flash, Cerberus had fled up the mountain, and the red cape flew after him. Ouroboros lunged to follow, but his father grabbed his wrist. His boy was grown and strong, but Hydra only saw a fragile child.

“You are too precious; If those people turn out to be invaders-”

“The fey say they’re mages!”

“We will look for Cerberus if he his not back by dinner.” Hydra insisted. Ouroboros nodded, and they took the herbs home.

Ouroboros slouched while brewing potions. Cerberus had taught him well. Now and again, Hydra and Ouroboros would exchange glances while they cooked, but didn’t say anything. Proximity was reassurance. However, Ouroboros sunk into insecurity without Cerberus there; He needed so much help to deliver Quetzalcoatl’s baby. I’m not ready yet; I need my teacher. What if I get sick again, while Cerberus is gone? It’s been dark for hours, and he’s still not back. I don’t want to lose anyone. Ouroboros thought, taking the cauldron off to cool. His father walked over, and hugged his son.

“I’m worried too. If he doesn’t come back, we can ask a daughter of Goldenscale, to navigate the barrier to help search.” Hydra whispered. Ouroboros sniffed and nodded. After three days, that’s exactly what they did.

Ouroboros put on his protective Fairy Robes, fearing what took Cerberus. The onyx plates, against the black wool, clinked slightly. They provided the silhouette of a perched dragon, with his horned crown. Ouroboros found himself listening to the fey. He blew light fire into a lamp, and walked up the slope. The fey told him they saw Cerberus by the Dragon Gate. Ouroboros and Cerberus had opened it together a year ago. Upon arriving at the cliffside, Ouroboros stepped on the platform without a thought; And arrived at the summit of the Dragon King’s throne. The large white nose protruding from the clouded sky of a colourless world.

“Where’s Cerberus?” Ouroboros asked.

“My brother, the King Mage, desires we keep him here.” The Dragon King said

“King Mage?”

“The one to be brothered by all ten Beast Kings. Why, he even found my wife Quellelthan; It has been fifty years, and we are having another heir. Tell me, what interest do you have in Cerberus? Do you not fear for Grand Snow without him?”

“I fear that if I don’t know more of medicine, I cannot care for home. I cannot grow without my mentor. Wait. Quellelthan? I have read of her! May I meet her?”

“I would beg it of you, Heartman. The child makes her ill; Can you heal her?”

“I’m unsure. I might need to learn more, as I said. But I wish too. I wish to do it for all of Grand Snow.”

“I’ll let you go to another land, to learn human medicine, if you in tern help my wife with your knowledge. To aid you, I’ll give you the power of every type of fire, of which she breaths. After that, go across the Tree Kingdom, and look for a faintly glowing gate in a shallow lake; It will go somewhere no one will think to look. Trust others will be well on your journey. I will send fey to comfort and care for you father and kin.” The Dragon King continued. Overwhelmed, Ouroboros agreed.

On the other side of the hidden gate, was an ornate hall. The water glowed as it dripped from the ceiling, and down the mosses; Flowing toward the center of the gate’s ten stones. Ouroboros, felt the humid air hit him. The air was so thick compared to home. He walked down the hall cautiously, and into the light. He beheld a magnificent beach, hosting people, whose features he’d never seen; Round faces with delicate features, and black silk hair. Ouroboros froze at the sight:

‘Another land. I could learn so much, and become confident in my power;

But I may also get sick, and pass far from home.

I could fall in love with someone of no relation; True Love’s Spell awaiting.

I could know so much wonder, like this infinite lake before me.

However, what if my family perishes without a healer?

They will worry. My father will worry…’

Even while uncertain, he was drawn to walk forward; He was now lost to his quest. By Grand Snow’s daylight, Hydra would notice Ouroboros vanished while looking for Cerberus. It was a fear coming to fruition. Hydra hiked his old bones to radio at the summit; He requested Ragnar. When Ragnar came, Hydra pleaded for his friend’s aid.

It was eight months before Ragnar brought Ouroboros home with a true love. Ouroboros had met Saianne on the beach he traveled to. Protocol insisted she was too unrelated to aid Grand Snow, but the village would riot if Ouroboros got a broken heart. Ragnar allowed it; Not that Saianne was fully fertile anyway. Moreover, it was too much of a delight to see Ouroboros and Saianne sing and cling to each other; It could make time stop. It even Trumped Saianne’s curse. She needed to be enfeyed, or she’d go grey-dark and consume the lake. To help her and his family, Ouroboros needed to reopen the healing house. But before that, His father nearly knocked him over with a hug.

Hydra had sent Ragnar so long ago, the fear of loosing Ouroboros almost turned into acceptance. Hydra was mad, relieved, and overjoyed. His son was getting a better education, and was happy. His son had fallen in love with a shy and kind girl, who would find a friendly fey to help her. Their village once again had a doctor and mage.

“I’m so proud, Ouroboros. I’m also incredibly angry.” Hydra pulled back. Ouroboros looked at his feet. His hair was now blood red, and eyes golden. He had overflowed with magic. The mark of suffering. Hydra dare not ask what the cause was.

“I’m sorry father. I was given a grand opportunity. If I neglected the Dragon King’s offer, I would be less then my best. But now, I get to finish my schooling with Cerberus next autumn to spring. I found him, and he kept me from getting sick! Isn’t that wonderful?” Ouroboros smiled.

“My worry was nearly unbearable! I hate that you’re grown into a whole person, and I can’t do anything but watch while the world sweeps you away. I fear, on the edge of my seat, for my little boy. And now you return, and ask me to worry another winter without you? How many Summers do I even have left to hold you?” Hydra reprimanded. Ouroboros slumped and nodded. He was well aware how hard it was on his father.

“But I’m here now. Let’s make that matter more. Wait till you hear Saianne sing and smile. It will make the ice chime.” Ouroboros comforted. Such a gleam came from him, it proved contagious to Ragnar and Hydra. Even Saianne, who was being examined for her Grand East features giggled. That fire of joy in him. Burning of luck and life. He needed no gift from the Dragon King to burn so many colours.

The next day, people seemed settled, if not still begrudging. Mid meal, Ouroboros started chocking. Saianne began roughly patting his back as Hydra lunged forward.

“Oh no! I promised the Dragon King’s I’d help Queen Quellelthan and their expectant child,” Ouroboros yelped. Everyone glared at him in disappointment.

“I was blessed with the fire’s of Quellelthan, and I forgot the entire quest! She might need another check-” He went on. Hydra sighed, shaking his head. He didn’t expect anything less of is son’s distractable spirit. Ouroboros paused.

“You know what, the gate’s right up the slope, and we just reunited! I can visit them tomorrow. What are we cooking tonight?”

Fresh pixie mead should not really be drunken regularly; It contains winter magic, on top of alcohol. It was supposed kept them cool in the summers Ouroboros had brought. Over some drinks with his daughter-in-law, Hydra began telling tales about falling into the lake, while ice fishing, and how his wife was decorated in flowers for their wedding. He talked of youth, as hunter do of their most impressive trophies.

“The dried petals in the summer, smelt of spice; The branches finally unfrozen. Maybe you can dress the same? A simple gown, with Quetzalcoatl’s fine embroidery. The pastels would match your silky hair. Oh, and how you indeed chime to our lake each day, to appease the selkie enfeying you; How is it going? Is your curse gone?” Hydra flattered. Saianne gave a subtle smile, as she was still shy.

“Yes. I love looking across water. When it calls now, it’s a silent nod instead of a persuasive voice. However, I’m not much of a flower person. I don’t want to wed till next spring, when we return for good.” Saianne mused.

“He hasn’t proposed? Done the deed I mean? No True Loves Kiss even?!” Hydra pried. Saianne sat straight; That was a bit private. She had no clue that meant Ouroboros was so serious. Insecurity bubbled. Luckily Ouroboros ran in before she had to answer.

“The Dragon King had twins with Quellelthan!” he jumped. “Didn’t even need the healing or love fire! I feel grateful my improvements proved a blessing.” He yelled. Ouroboros the hailed a horn of honey wine in celebration. Saianne stared at him. She suddenly wished she could have children. It wasn’t impossible, but her family did do a number trying to make her infertile. They falsely believed her blood was cursed too. But that was behind her, when before her was a man whimsically blinded by joy.

“Can we wed this summer? The solstice is in three days.” Saianne said, clutching Ouroboros’s hands. She gave the brightest smile they’d seen.

“That’s today. It’s my birthday. Hence the extra mead and shortbread…” Ouroboros responded. Saianne covered her mouth. She forgot her True Love’s dedicated day. Hydra tipped his cup, and Ouroboros sat comfortably next to his father.

“What about Saianne’s question though?” Hydra nudged. He was overjoyed by his children’s millstones. Saianne was looking at the floor, pulling her skirt tightly. Ouroboros sat for a good three minutes in silence, combing his brain for the right response, while distracted by her ethereal aura.

“Well, I guess a True Loves Kiss today would be a kingly gift, o celebrate all the years I shouldn’t have lived. Sister, help me gather the flowers! We have sage by the grave plateau!” Ouroboros smiled. He then tripped over the table, jumping forward to hold Saianne. The moment made Hydra felt like the luckiest man alive; Next to his son.

To see Saianne’s hair twisted and adorned in a crown of innumerable flowers, brought back memories Hydra thought he’d lost. To see their kiss, and anklets marking their True Love’s Spell, made Hydra melt. His back ached from age, while his heart softened with comfort. Hydra never thought he’d see this day. He’d sobbed outside the cabin, when his son lay sick, so many times. More then that, Hydra wished his wife was there to feel the same with him.

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Ouroboros’s family: Father Hydra, and sister Quetzalcoatl. I did so much research on northern European folk attire, that the rest of the picture suffered.

40. The Fire weed (chapter 1 - The Kindle 1/4 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams.

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Hydra had buried many children; Some not yet a year, some just born, a few nearly born. Hydra and his wife tried again and again, without knowing what cursed it. When the village was visited by people, for a gene study, they said Hydra and his love carried disorders of the immune system and heart. Regardless, they managed a daughter, and seven years later, a boy who lived past his fifth summer. By five years, there is a good chance he might survive. But the boy, Ouroboros, unfortunately had the immunocompromising condition his parents carried. That same year, his mother passed from a sickness. Ouroboros had to quarantine and be careful. If he was even slightly ill, as children do, Hydra would sit outside on the deck with a shovel. Freezing in the snow, as he had many times before, too scared to see another child die. For a parent, there are no words for such a terrible thing. Hydra went numb, and told himself he was used to this duty.

Hydra’s daughter Quetzalcoatl, would comfort both of them. She refused to wed or for the survival of their village; She affirmed everyone was too related for her, truly love them. Most days, she could be seen doing embroidery on the deck of their large home; Watching the fey in the cold. Things seemed to be getting warmer since her brother started to sing and read. How Grand Snow’s frost glittered though. Thin crisp air, and blue glaciers molding into the lake. Wildflowers soon came, and bee-pixies for mystic meads. The Frost nymphs, huddled in the shade; Many of them were born from human-fey love, and were a part of the enchanted peak. Magic had done so much for Grand Snow. Even their encircling mountains had a hex of frost and confusion, that kept the world away. It protected their summit from wars, modern technology, disease, and murderous wizards; Yet limited the gene pool.

A peaceful winter-wonderland, is where Quetzalcoatl smugly refused every lad, and her father cut the meat. In the bliss of youth, Ouroboros frolicked about the forest. Or he was off somewhere reading those old magic-books. Or maybe eating random uncleaned herbs due to his interest in medicine…. Quetzalcoatl snipped the wrong thread. She was supposed to be watching Ouroboros while father hunted. She pulled over a frost nymph:

“Glint! Where’s my brother!”

“Singing summer into the valley. It’s nice to have a mage.” Glint smiled.

“A mage?” Quetzalcoatl gasped. Their village, after centuries, had a dragon mage to aid their precious domain. She ran up the slopes in her furs and two-toned dress, to see Ouroboros swaddled in coats singing cheerfully into the valley. The his icy eyes glistening like the frozen lack below. Behind him, was the platform of white granite, engraved with runes in a compass: The closed gate to the Dragon Kingdom.

“Ouroboros, are you aware you’re a mage?” Quetzalcoatl asked. Ouroboros stopped, and gave her a smile; The same one he had while being sling-shot off a toboggan.

“Why were you waiting to tell us?! Come with me, and tell father; He’ll be overjoyed! You’re just what this place needs.”

“I never said anything because it’s not important to me, really. The valley is at peace with the wonderous, and I want to be a healer more. I want to makes sure no one dies like our mother and siblings. I wan to see you and father live long.” Ouroboros drooped.

“Is it possible to do both? Wield spells of cleansing, make elixirs, and more? Surely there is a type of mage that can practice medicine.”

“I didn’t think of combining magery with medicine… I think one of my books said that’s a Heartman… Wow. You really got all the smarts in the womb, sister!” Ouroboros cheered. He dashed down the melting slopes, while Quetzalcoatl stared into the cloudless blue above.

As town butcher, Hydra brought home only the best cuts of meat. They had gotten a buck that day. He invited Ragnar, who had entered the valley that day for business. A daughter of the last mage guided him through the barrier for such occasions. Ragnar was the wizard who represented Grand Snow beyond the barrier; But he never used magic in the village. He came as a mundane man, to respect Grand Snow’s reverence for the enchanted. But not today. Today, Ragnar brought a young man with black hair and purple eyes.

“I’m a mage Father! The fey told me! Sister says I should tell you too. I’ve decided to use magic to be a doctor! I’ll be even better at saving maidens or babies.” Ouroboros announced, running circles around the table. Ragnar flinched. Magery was forbidden where he came from.

Quetzalcoatl put down a pint of cider, and turned her attention to Ragnar; But he turned to Hydra. Quetzalcoatl kept staring at his long wavy hair, that flowed shades of gold. Like everyone else, it was decorated with silver clips and beads. Ragnar always wore dark blue, and was older than her; It only made Quetzalcoatl think of him all the more. It made Ragnar uncomfortable, and eager to talk about Ouroboros.

“Hydra, how are mages treated in Grand Snow?” Ragnar inquired.

“Kindly, my friend!” Hydra said jollily, ruffling his son’s hair. Ragnar could see a subtle tenseness on Hydra’s face. On the inside, Hydra’s heart was stung by his son’s optimism. He knew Ouroboros might not live long enough to see his dreams come true, when it is Hydras wish for his children to be fulfilled and happy.

“Hydra, what is the matter?” Ragnar said.

“My son is too perfect.”

“Ah.” Ragnar said drinking the cider; Quetzalcoatl sat across the table, still examining him. Ragnar gestured to the mysterious man he brought. The man’s face structure was softer then everyone in the village. They’d never seen black hair or such features.

“This is Cerberus Monafyra. He is also a mage; Qualified LPN and Heartman. He is to be your new on-site medic. Make him feel welcome.” Ragnar said pointedly, looking at Cerberus.

“Well Cerberus, your first duty is dealing with my son,” Hydra sighed. “Medically, and mentally.” He specified with a smile. Ouroboros had a beaming expression; Awed before an official Heartman. Cerberus recoiled at the sight; Within the past five seconds, he’d seen enough to conclude Ouroboros would be his pet peeve apprentice.

“Don’t worry Cerberus,” Hydra comforted. “Everyone warms to my boy! Ouroboros’s flare truly warms the spirit. Just as Ragnar! We used to hate his attitude, before we saw his jovial being. Now he’s one of us!” Hydra boasted, roughly patting Ragnar’s arm.

“Yes! He’s passed the gene score thing, and returns often,” Quetzalcoatl added “He is a part of this place, like magic itself. Thus, it is fair to ask him to father my children.” She burst suddenly. The room became quiet. Yet after a moment, Ouroboros leant in to his father.

“But Ragnar isn’t into romantic stuff.” He whispered. Everyone looked at Ragnar.

“I don’t think your sister wants romance either.” Hydra chuckled back, kissing his son’s cheek.

Cerberus had only been in Grand Snow a month; Enough time to adjust to the altitude and cold. On a winter’s day, he went to get water at the well; The healing house needed a good supply of water. As all the wooden cabins faced the well, Cerberus could see everyone’s porches. Dipping the bucket, there was Hydra shivering with a shovel at dawn.

“Hydra, you should go inside; You’ll get sick. Your getting grey, and thus easily chill.” Cerberus said, running over. He put a calm hand on Hydra’s shoulder. But Hydra gazed into the snow, unmoving. After a moment, he burst into tears; Shaking violently with his gasping wails. Quetzalcoatl, opened their door hearing the commotion.

“Cerberus, you’re here! Ouroboros is hot, and can’t get out of bed!” She sobbed. Cerberus hurried inside, and was quickly led to a small room; The boy was wheezing, delirious, and in pain. Cerberus was so confused; They’d done everything right, to ensure nothing infectious got into the village. They even pasteurized and overcooked food for him. Cerberus grabbed Ouroboros, and took him to the healing house. Cerberus had resources in that cabin. Modern medicine, if needed.

Ouroboros’s condition seemed respiratory to Cerberus, and thus unlikely from honey, milk, or poisons; Maybe mold, or a cold everyone assumed was dry air. Either way, it took an hour to stabilize the fever, and hook Ouroboros up to lines. A swab later, and Ouroboros was on Anti-Viral medication, fever and inflammation reduction potions, fluids, and so on. Ouroboros was going to be in that bed a while; They caught him just in time.

“Why didn’t Hydra just tell me you were sick…” Cerberus whispered.

“Father stops talking if I cough. It scares me when he does that. Am I going to die?” Ouroboros said quietly. “If I get too hot, will I still be able to have babies someday? I don’t want to die. I don’t want father to be sad, or my sister pass when she gives birth. I don’t want things to fall apart if I go. I want my wishes to come true. Wishes don’t come true if you die.” He wheezed. Cerberus took Ouroboros’s hand, and held it.

“Hold on to that fighting spirit; I’ll do my best, to help you see your dreams. Don’t worry about your father and sister right now. I’m here for you now.” Cerberus reassured. Hearing that meant the world to Ouroboros.

The next day, Hydra stayed in the house cooking. Quetzalcoatl went to knit with the older women. She wanted to learn to make baby clothes. Hydra hadn’t slept, and busied himself with chores. A day and night passed, and Hydra sat inside, not daring to visit his son. The shovel and oil, sat ready by the door. Another two days and nights, and all Hydra could think of, was how his boy had managed over ten summers, but odds don’t change. Hydra had stopped eating, in spite of his daughter’s hugs. They were so cold and scared. Scared of that silver sign above the healer’s cabin. A sword through a heart, symbolizing The Heartman.

At first light, on the third day, a knock came on the door. The fire had died, and Hydra lay on the couch before it. He got up clumsily after the second knock.

“Hello, Hydra; I’m giving this back.” Cerberus smiled. He nudged Ouroboros, who reached for his father.

“Father I still don’t feel good.” He groaned. Hydra, went rigid, as if witnessing the waking dead.

“His fever broke, he can move around, and can take medication. Make sure he gets rest, and finishes these potions and tabs.” Cerberus said. Hydra knelt down, and squeezed Ouroboros tight, like it was their final goodbye. He didn’t know how to react.

“Thank you, Cerberus. Thank you.” Hydra sobbed. Ouroboros hugged softly back.

“I love you dad.” He spoke. Quetzalcoatl joined the embrace, kissing their cheeks. Cerberus left, handing over the medication. He felt ill; Unable to rinse his mind of Hydra with the shovel. How the worry for a son drove a man away from the world. Cerberus had lost a brother, but maybe that wasn’t the same. It turned Cerberus off fathering. To see Hydra’s entire world be his two children; To lose even one, is unimaginable. Torture even.

Hydra spent the next week bringing Ouroboros his studies, going on hunts, and administering medicine and love. They sang for each other, and Ouroboros learned new fires to summon; Flames that make water, of just give off light instead of burns. Each type of fire a different colour. A week more, and Ouroboros was running about, throwing snow, and sledding with Quetzalcoatl. The family baked shortbread for the fairies, and held each other while going to sleep. Savouring it. Hydra’s warm deep heartbeat against Ouroboros’s head, as they hummed lullabies. Relaxing, as the fireplace went dark. Comfort and gratitude, with no thought of tomorrow.

NEXT --->

#tales of ealden cynedom #fantasy #short stories #art #ouroboros #ragnar

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talesofealdancynedom · 1 year

Photo

Raven Queen Odette, drawn as her parents; I gave her a wardrobe update.

37. The Second Chance (chapter 4 - Palace of Memories 4/4 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams.

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Fredrick and Merriam couldn’t stay on the ranch she once called home. Time had passed, and they were no longer a part of this place. They were brought back with few clothes, and forgotten names. Accumulating cats, while doing house chores. Odette had yet to visit Merriam and Fredrick; For someone who dearly missed her parents, to the point she’d move time to be have them, she sure wasn’t with them. They knew their time to move on had come, when Odysseus walked into their cabin.

“I want you to go to the Raven Gate in the Capitol. That palace is a museum of restored things; Odette might be there if she’s feeling sentimental. Additionally, we need this place for my son’s stupid performative wedding.” He explained. Merriam and Fredrick cringed, remembering the dryness of their purely ceremonial union. They hadn’t realized they were True Loves then. It was a terrible day; Fredrick having buried his parents, and Merriam torn from her dreams. Odysseus saw them wilt at the mere mention of nuptials. Fredrick changed the subject, by requesting the money to oblige him. Odysseus slapped tickets to the Capitol, and museum, into their hands.

“The old and new, awaits you.” He chuckled.

Merriam was appalled that her Raven Gate was in a state of upheaval. It was requested by the state, and stood in the city square; Now forming an unattended magic ‘forest’, full of frustrated fey and Common Folk. What crimes against magic occurred after her murder? The people acted like they forgot the city was enchanted; Like they forgot about her.

Merriam and Fredrick looked around their old home, which now hosted their old things on display. It was surreal to see people fawning over their used personals. There was also art, linages, clothing, and more; Each with accurate, but easily misinterpreted, plackets about the nation’s history. Merriam and Fredrick found it mildly amusing, to see modern families coo at emphatically worded descriptions of their daily lives. The galleries had just opened on a work day, and the visitors were people taking children for an outing. Beneath the educational front, the castle was still itself; Local grey granite, with only the tiles made from The Grand West’s famous black marble. A sanitized version, of what felt like home.

Fredrick was bewildered to see his favourite tunic untouched by time. To see the crown shimmering on display dumbfounded him. His neck hurt remembering it’s heft. The golden circle of gryphons with peridot pears, was strictly ceremonial.

“Look Merry!” Fredrick pointed to their shoes. She was looking at a painting of him. Fredrick approached curiously.

“I don’t remember getting this one done.” He tilted his head.

“I commissioned it shortly after your passing. It was hung with your forefathers in this very ballroom. It’s always been here, unlike these glass cases. Did you know our daughter kept me in one in? In the Shadow Veil? Where is she even? I swore Icthya and Odysseus were onto something...” Merriam jittered. She was furiously petting Nihten. Fredrick leaned in.

“Thank you. It dapicts everything I love. My colours from going dark, strawberries, roses, and my most comfortable clothes. Oh, and look; The painter didn’t even know how to do cats right.” he smiled.

“Yes. All sweet things. Just like you.” Merriam flirted.

As they moved down the room, they examined the linage on the wall. Fredrick pointed to himself, Eatheltwein, and followed it down the wall to Odysseus and Morgan at the end. It named every prince, princess, and Queen; Except Merriam. Beyond its comprehension, they moved into what was once the study wing.

Upon the best lit hall, where the windows overlooking the castle’s layers; Each hosting a courtyard, that trailed to the main steps. Merriam and Fredrick could see the now sprawling city. Even The Raven Gate sitting in the main square, as it always had. Merriam looked behind her, as a family walked buy; Also admiring the view. She went still. There were five perfectly lit tapestries. One for each of her knights. The eldest, white knight Sir. Holly, had his flag poised to indicate he was following, not leading, into a battle. Their eyes and hair were their given colour: White, red, green, yellow, and blue. Thus, indicating they’d already gone dark, after returning from a quest with Merriam. The quest she returned from, only to find Odette gone.

“Oh. Our knights. The men I lent to you. We were all good friends…” Fredrick sighed. “You must miss them more then I.”

“I do. But I can’t help but to remember their Happily Ever Afters. Do you change your mind about staying ignorant, Fredrick? Do want to know what happened to them? Take solace in knowing they passed after a beautiful life?” Merriam whispered. She had a tinge of jealousy. Fredrick took a breath and nodded. The smooth threads of the restored textiles glowed. Glittering knots, depicting vines, horses, and vibrant colours. There was a sign telling people not the touch the ethereal weaving.

“Sir. Holly, the white knight, died shortly after you. He had retired far to late; At the age of ninety!” Merriam smiled; Her posture perfectly poised. Still a queen in nature, as she methodically examined the fine work. Fredrick warmed to se her smile.

“The red Knight, Sir. Apple, actually retired after the formation of parliament. He Start a knight’s school in North Point. Do you recall that he always had a squire?” She chimed. Merriam drew their attention to the youngest knight, pulling a bow upon a dun horse.

“Speaking of which, one of his student’s! The Yellow Knight, Sir. Marigold, left our guard to teach paladins to respect for magic. I wonder if it actually worked, given the stubbornness of wizards.” Merriam pondered. Fredrick looked at Sir. Holly further, he felt something was off about the set.

“The Green Knight, Sir. Rosemary, went to help immigration and trade at Boarder Town, by Francia. His love, The Blue Knight, Sir. Sage, lived the rest of his days defending and serving this palace.” She concluded. Merriam felt uplifted recalling her companions; But Frederick looked confuddled.

“But, where are you? They should be following you. I gave them to you for quests. They travelled the world, and bravely faced all manors of magic. Fine men. Not the brightest, but the dearest and Nobelist.” Fredrick nagged. Merriam held her breath. She knew why her scroll was gone. Merriam was there when it was sewn. Ever since Odette resurrected her, Merriam had no trace.

“As all other mages of the time, I suspect they removed all word of me. How scandalous it would have been, for their peace bringer and queen was of such taboo talents. Those upcoming wizards would surly not admit it. That’s how I died Fredrick. I gave into them like all the other mages. I fought them off from the gate without my fairy robes. A creaky grandmother, awaiting her mortal destiny. Before that, there was a time I wanted to disappear. Now, I don’t know.” Merriam said. It stung. She changed her mind; Merriam wanted her mage journals read. She didn’t like being noone, feeling alone in this palace again. Her knowledge as a Seer, could’ve helped someone if she’d kept them on the ranch.

“You should be with them.” Fredrick interrupted.

“I know.” Merriam exhaled slowly.

“No, I mean there’s a little note. I think it indicates that you’re scroll is being restored by a collection holder. Morgan maybe?” Fredrick said, looking to the right. A smile appeared on Merriam’s face, further cheering her husband. That boy must’ve connected the dots while they were at the ranch.

They sat in the garden sampling fruit they packed. They’d seen the whole palace, and now felt anxious about Odette. Merriam looked around nervously; The fountain was worn, yet all the same plants were there. People had painstakingly kept the yard as it once was. Fredrick noted the same golden geese swam in the pond, and how Odette and Eatheltwein would sing to them. He then looked up to the second-floor windows; The dormitory wing. Odette’s windows overlooked the back courtyard, as she wanted a room that opened to a walkway. Odette may have had her True Love’s Kiss with the Raven King on that balcony. Merriam turned her attention there too. She felt the pain of the day she came home to a missing child. A child she never wanted, but couldn’t help but love. Merriam remembered how she used to sing to Odette, in many languages, even though she hated music. Despondent, the pair returned to watching the families eating in the garden.

However, they were unable to resist looking back once more. Merriam turned to see a lady that looked much like her, all in white. Odette smiled sweetly at her mother.

“Odette! Come down here this instant!” Merriam scowled. When Odette shook her head, Merriam got up, and ran into the castle, up the secret stairwell, and tor into Odette’s room. She tripped over the bungee cord keeping people out of the recreated space. Fredrick followed suit. Luckily, this room had carpets over the stone floor, breaking their fall. Odette gasped, and helped her parent’s up, only to receive a tight embrace.

“I’m so mad.” Merriam sobbed.

“I’m sorry. I was scared to talk after realizing my error. Remembering you, after meeting Morgan, reopened the hole where my lost childhood should be. But it is not my place to decide-”

“No Odette, I’m mad I have to make it work. I would be a hypocrite to defile your efforts to save me. Despite my wishes, I cannot blame someone for loving. I cannot deny my daughter her happiness.”

“Well, I’m mad you forgot to visit us, after bringing us back!” Fredrick grumbled. “Apologize for this abuse of spell-craft; Which is not even your worst crime here.” He snapped. Fredrick was seldom angry, causing his wife and daughter to flinch.

“How dare you grow up without us. Couldn’t you have waited a little longer to requite the Raven King’s love? Or at least told us? Visited before loosing yourself? Before I died.” Fredrick crumbled.

“Father… I, I admit I lacked maturity, when presented with True Love’s Spell. I had no clue the Shadow Veil would fade my memories. I’m sorry father. There is no way to undo this. I brought you both back, without consideration of your lives’ after doing so. I dare say I’m terribly impulsive.” Odette confessed. The family huddled a little longer, unsure what to do next. Comforted, Fredrick had more questions:

“Does this mean we have living grandchildren? Can we meet them?” He said. Odette smiled yes. She helped them up, walked outside, and pointed to the golden geese in the fountain, and a silver phoenix on a turret. Then she pointed to four-winged opalescent ravens by the trash bins.

“Those are the princesses I actually bared. The princes’ however, are unruly and kept in a Death Tree. As much as I love them, but the grinding noise their corvid skulls, while consuming flesh, is ghastly. They could fey and men. Though my youngest is sweet; He lives with people who bring him trinkets and roadkill.” Odette said. Fredrick had mixed feelings; Merriam was full of curiosity.

“I’d love to meet him once we’re settled!” Merriam smiled.

The family spent the rest of the day looking around the changed city. Odette stood out with her fey like appearance. The Raven King imbued her with his kingdom when they kissed. It didn’t seem to bother her parents much.

“Mother and father, what will we do next? I still have to be Queen, but you now have a lifetime to live. You had dreams before me, correct?” She inquired. Fredrick and Merriam knew the traps of creating goals and plans. They stalled, looking at the Magic Administration building; It attracted tourists due to the fact it is made of green stone, and much bigger on the inside.

“Do they have pubs with cats? Like you pay to get an ale, and sit in a room full of socialized healthy kittens to pet?” Fredrick contemplated. Though his wife and daughter shrugged, there was in fact, one five blocks away.

“This place gives me an idea. Two can play at these wizard games.” Merriam said, pulling Fredrick and Odette into the administration building. She walked in confidently, and stopped suddenly in front of the reception desk. The three of them waited patiently for the wizard to put down the phone. Looking up, the lady froze before Merriam’s demanding presence, and crow like garbs.

“Hello, I’m Mage Queen Merriam Craweleoth, and wish to speak to a leading wizard. I need to confirm my identity.” She announced. The wizard nodded, and reached for the phone again.

“Once that is done, I have a proposal; I see this magic city, sprawling from the Raven Gate I created, is in disorder. You might benefit from a mage’s presence. So, tell me wizard, instead of murdering me, how about you tell me how I can help?”

TABLE OF CONTENTS --->

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#art #tales of ealden cynedom #fantasy #short stories #merriam #Odette #odysseus #raven king #Illustration

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talesofealdancynedom · 1 year

Photo

King Fredrick Cynedom, depicted with the things he loved; Minus the cats.

37. The Second Chance (chapter 3 - Me and Fredrick 3/5 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams.

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From over the windowsill, Merriam saw a young man through the fogged glass. He had eyes of jade, and strawberry waved hair. Merriam found herself unable to look away, and in fact, drawn to open the window. The fellow shrank while Merriam reached to unlatch the window. Which was fused shut. Against all logic, Merriam was compelled to greet him, and dropped her anguish for what felt like a familiar face; To the point of forgetting she knew magic. Instead of going through the walls, or stopping time, Merriam shot out the kitchen, and down to the back door. She turned the corner, and tripped over her observer. Their eyes met for a forever.

“Merry? You look like the day we met. I saw our daughter, and she was like a swan. Am I dreaming?”

“Fredrick?! You also look as young as me. Though these are the colours magic gave you, after crossing the ether with me… To think I didn’t believe our princess could do this. You died so long ago, but all evidence indicates this is real.” Merriam said, getting nearer, touching his cheek. “My words are taken.”

“So, Odette is forgiven for this foolish deed? She begged me to convince you this is an act of love. She seemed filled with guilt. Odette healed me just in time, tossed me in enchanted waters, and took me here; I’m not sure if I should applaud her.”

“Unsure?! We both lived fulfilling long lives, with Happily Ever Afters, and all the garnishes. Loved ones near, in a lap of luxury; More then many of our time could ask. I had concluded my journey with acceptance, and asked her not to heal me. She kept me in a coffin for centuries, Fredrick. She’s waving magic around without thought of consequences; She should feel bad.” Merriam rambled.

“That may be true, but I get to hug my lost daughter, and live a little longer with my wife. Should I be so angry? There is always more to live for.”

“Using too much magic at once can kill a mage! I’m worried sick!” Merriam started. She noticed Fredrick had zoned out.

“As a boy, I always thought if I wasn’t King, that I’d like to foster cats with a common lady, in the countryside.” He said vacantly. A tabby with a jeweled collar walked by. He tried to lure it. Merriam gently put his arm down.

“Dear, that’s a fencing cat; It even has cute little boots.” She sighed. Fredrick smiled, and then tried asking it nicely, since that sometimes works on fey.

Fredrick and Merriam held hands at a small desk. They were in the study center, waiting for Odysseus to gather the records. Instead, he was writing letters. Merriam had to explain that if no one believed them, they’d be without a future. Time manipulation can get hard to grasp, even among magic users. It would be difficult to live anew, without a legal identity. While Odysseus wrote, Merriam and Fredrick nudged closer and closer by the minute; Unable to resist the other’s affection. Their True Love anklets had reappeared; thus, the spell had been recast. Fredrick admired Merriam’s fairy robes. There was nothing she couldn’t pull off. He asked if she’d like him to cut her hair again. Merriam leant closer and asked for a good kiss instead. Odysseus looked up, and told them to be quieter. After rolling her eys, Merriam got up and took Fredrick around ranch; She wanted to show him how their nephew Eatheltwein retired.

“This reminds me of when we went to Eastlands of Vietica.” Fredrick said looking about in complete calmness. “Remember that old man who made jade tools? The top of the golden butte was a meditative path. I nearly died in the ether getting there, but you finally knew healing potions. After he gave us wisdom, you finally cried for all you’d lost in my arms. A nice dream together. A moment without politics.” Fredrick reminisced, falling into a rose bush. Merriam jumped over it to heal him on the other side.

“My roses! No!” A sharp voice cried. They peered over the foliage. The Gardner had long caramel hair, grass green eyes, and a slight frame spackled with freckles. Her coveralls were patched and dirty, as where her gloves and hat.

“I’m sorry. I tripped. Can I make amends?” Fredrick asked. The Gardner looked up in tears. She nodded and reached out her hand. Both Merriam and Fredrick shook it.

“I’m Icthya. I’m just really attached to the plants… Gardening reminds me of my late father, and I planted these myself. I even tend the Tree Fey.” Icthya sniffed. Fredrick felt guiltier by the moment.

“Wait, you two; Have you seen my husband? He’s not feeding the goats and chickens like normal. I had to make a knight do it. He’s been out of it lately. Our son is returning this autumn.”

“What does your husband look like? My familiar Nihten can search from the sky.” Merriam inquired. She was a sucker for helping people on a tangent. Icthya smiled at Nihten.

“My son has a bird familiar too. Are you a mage?”

“Stop for a second.” Fredrick interjected. “The Gardner is commanding knights?”

“I’m ‘Queen’.” Icthya snorted, she started fixing the bushes.

“Well, in that case, ‘King’ Odysseus is in the library passionately writing a letter.”

“Oh, wedding planning for our son! He must be getting along with my brother Cetus.” Icthya smiled. Merriam tilted her head,

“I’ve met him; He knitted me socks in two hours. Full circle then. Well, would you by any chance help us prove our identities, so we can live anew? We’re Odette’s parents. As Queen you must h-.”

“I’m not sure about queenly stuff, but I do know the records better then Oddie. I had to put away all of Morgan’s books when he was little. I bet I can find proof you existed Merry and-” Icthya looked at Fredrick. She recognized him from the art. “King Fredrick?!” She gasped. He nodded cautiously.

“Well then, I think you’ll have no problem! Everyone learns about him, and many know magic. If you say ‘time magic’, and gesture to Fredrick, the right person could help you.” Icthya shrugged. “But if I may, why do you want to get government ID first? Wouldn’t it be worth your time to adjust to modern times? What about Odette? I think she needs her parents, given she’s misusing her magic for them. She might be struggling. Same thing happened with Morgan; Scares me silly.” Icthya continued. Fredrick was clicking at a real cat this time, and ruffling behind its ears. Merriam softened; it was her turn to fell regret.

“I guess that’s true Icthya. It would be a shame to hate a child for bringing back their parents. She left us at twelve, and we never got to know her as an adult. Though I wish I had died, I can’t go back; I can’t dishonour her. Not after her effort, and spending so many years wishing she had stayed.” Merriam looked at her feet; She felt unable to embrace the opportunity quite yet. Seeing her wilt, Fredrick handed her the cat.

“If we get to be a family again, and have youth, we can make choices. Merriam, before we ever got wed, what did you dream of doing? I always wondered what choice you lost, that made you so resentful.” Fredrick asked. Merriam grimaced. She’d buried that dream long ago. She was too old and bitter for such things. Her ambiance became a consuming blackness.

“Dream big Merry! You have a new life, and little to lose! I’m so curious; What did a Mage Queen really want as a girl?” Icthya encouraged. Merriam stared into middle-distance; She now wanted Fredrick and Odette in her dream, but that’s not what they were asking. They wanted to know her first wish. Merriam inhaled deeply.

“I wanted to become an old hag, living in a thicket of whimsical wonders, without a husband, or children. Starving in Francia with my father and milk-sister. Spending my days tending fey, observing my gate, and aiding wanderers. Adorned in kohl, rouge, and black. Peaceful solitude, surrounded by nature.” She confessed firmly. There was a pause. Fredrick began to uncontrollably laugh.

“Well, I’ll be damned if your father didn’t make a good choice sending you to my side! That sounds the opposite of the loving, and adventurous, woman I love. Your favourite colour is periwinkle, for wonders’ sake!” He chuckled. “How young did we make you a bride, for you to want something so miserable?” He went on. Merriam cringed with embarrassment. She had to agree.

They had lunch in the main hall, with Odysseus, Icthya, the five modern knights. Yesterday’s duck, peas, and radish, with today’s bread. They also had fresh butter, and bowls of pommes. The room was lit by the opened roof panels, providing a dusty glow. The walls were tall and red, the tables long. Every inch carved with pears and horses. Merriam loved how tacky and cozy this hall was. Fredrick however, thought the ponies a bit much.

In the afternoon, they offered services to earn their boarding, as they had no money. Everyone seemed calm, and accepted who they were. They had already seen Odette restore the acreage; It was not a far streach, to assume she’d bring back loved ones. Merriam and Fredrick spent the night in the Prince’s Cabin, where they bathed and put on sleeping gowns. They began reading Eatheltwein’s journals. Fredrick died before his nephew had a family. It tugged his heart to once more read the poor grammar, and excited tone. All the illustrations were in yellow. Fredrick wanted to be mad people read his diaries, but in their defence, he was dead. It made Fredrick sad to read how people felt after losing him, and reading about the milestones he missed. Merriam brought him tea.

“I now understand Merry. I see why you told our daughter to let you go. I was happier in my last moments, being optimistic about my recovery, then reading these accounts. Having my last thoughts be of love, instead of knowing the woe of my kin and the memories I never made. It makes me feel distant. If there is anything else I missed, don’t tell me. I’m unsure my heart can bear it. I wish I’d never known this. Was it better to pass in ignorant bliss, then live on? This changes things.” Fredrick cried. Merriam hugged him, as it got dark.

“I know. I’m so lost. It fells empty. I never planned for this. How does I live again? Wanting more from each moment, and resenting the past’s charm.”

NEXT --->

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#art #merriam #icthya #odysseus #Odette #tales of ealden cynedom #short stories #fantasy

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talesofealdancynedom · 1 year

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Tales of Ealden Cynedom: 37. The Second Chance (2/5)

37. The Second Chance (chapter 2 - I’ve Seen This Before 2/5 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams.none

In the mourning, Merriam awoke to music. Tinny, irregular reception, coming from the radio next to her. The room was painted brown, with many black art posters, and magazines of immodest woman on the dresser. More pressingly, there was music. Merriam shook that radio, banged it, and hurled it across the room. But the beast still screamed canary.

“Are you ok Merriam?” Jupiter said from the door.

“This petulant metal animal, will not stop wailing like a bard in a brothel with an untuned lute.” Merriam snapped. Jupiter walked over, and flicked the switch off.

“It’s a radio. You must still be out of it,” She sighed. “We keep Reggie’s alarm going. It makes it feel like she’s still here, and not in a literal volcano. I know she’s a mage, but I’m still worried as her mother.” Jupiter said, placing the radio back by the bed.

“I see. My daughter ran off at the age of twelve, to marry the Raven King. I’ve accepted it, and rejoiced in her immortality; But I still worry.” Merriam yawned. Jupiter, not having a single clue who Merriam actually was, shrugged in comradery.

“Daughters am I right?” Jupiter said, before seeing Merriam’s face go red.

“Odette is in so much trouble! She flew off for her father before we could talk! Wait. Oh no. She went back for Fredrick… My girl’s might rip apart time; Or herself!” Meriam catastrophized. Jupiter, having aided a Raven Prince Griminthrope, also knew Odette. She suspected it was her, when Merriam mentioned ‘lost princess.’ It gave Jupiter shivers. She saw the resemblance in Merriam’s face, and concluded her guest was being honest. Jupiter handed Meriam a white sweater dress, the knit socks, and modern underwear. Merriam put them on, and grumbled her way to the kitchen table.

Jupiter pulled the phone from the hall to the table, to call her nephew. As a Seer of history, Morgan might be able to confirm Merriam’s identity. If he did that, Merriam could get paperwork, to live anew, from the magic incidents department. Jupiter listend, while Morgan said there were few records of anyone named Merriam Craweleoth: Some in mage journals. As for the Queen during the warring period, Morgan read some on the royal ranch he was born and raised on, and the palace; That had been turned into a museum. He seemed unsure if the mage Merriam Crweleoth, and Odette’s mother, were the same person. Mundane records talked of her formally, while mage records used her full name; But some events lined up. Jupiter listened to Morgan talk in depth about it for twenty-minutes. Then he asked why she was asking. Jupiter looked Merriam up and down.

“We have a guest who says she is both those people. If I hadn’t adopted you, I’d say she was off-kilter.” Jupiter said. She then hung up.

“Master Craweleoth, I believe you may want to go to royal ranch, Saxon & Kendal, on the mainland. If not for proof of your claims, then to rest and access your situation. If Morgan is right, it might be your best bet. I don’t think he has all the records needed to vouch for you at the Magic Administration.” Jupiter recommended.

“Wait, Saxon & Kendal is still standing? There are heirs of my nephew still around? And a Seer of History happens to be one? By all odds, Merry!” Nihten chirped, nuzzling into Merriam’s sweater.

“Oh just wait. Next, I’ll find out he’s the one who reminded my daughter to resurrect me, with his familiar adorable smile? The same one Eathel and Fredrick would use on me.” Merriam mumbled, petting Nihten.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was Morgan. It’s a headache having to foster him; That boy is involved in half the drama in Pepperidge. I just want a mundane life, but fell in love with an oaf in a magic forest.” Jupiter sighed, pouring Merriam coffee. “Also, regarding your girl; It sounds to me like you need an apology, not justice. Is making up for the time you lost together, best spent keeping grudges?” She continued. Nihten nodded from Merriam’s shoulder.

“Both are fair. I spent my whole life radically accepting what happened to me. I rested in piece. Now I have to do it all over again!”

“Precisely. Personally, I wish I had more second shots.”

A few days later, and Merriam was wearing her Fairy-Robes. She was once again clad in black crushed velvet and feathers. The Black ruff of plumage, about the neck, made her look like a Raven. She was wearing rouge and kohl again, and feeling more like herself. Merriam jiggled her leg, as she sat on the fiery across the isle; Deeply missing her knights. She hadn’t realized how her companions helped her mind, as much as they filled her heart. They hated boats, and it was kind of funny each time they crossed the isle. Merriam fell deeper into insecurity. On the ride, everyone around her assumed she was a regular Seer; But Merriam still feared they knew she was a mage. Feared history repeating itself, in spite of control over the clock.

Merriam then took a shuttle to the ranch. Once there, everyone assumed she was a tourist, and laughed when she asked to speak with the current King. As she walked along, Merriam saw five knights, dressed in traditional uniforms; The five of them colour coded as her knights once were.

“Hello, how can I help you? We don’t have programs today.” A tall blond man with sage eyes asked. He looked nearly like her husband. Meriam froze.

“Wait, we didn’t call for a wizard…” He continued, examining Meriam. “You know, this might sound odd, but I feel like I’ve seen you before.”

“I’m Merriam Craweleoth; I’ve come seeking... Anything regarding the Queen of Anglia during the warring period?” Merriam responded slowly, scanning her surroundings. The ranch looked as she left it before her death; From the black well, people’s attire, and the paint on the cabins. The man patted her shoulder.

“Odysseus Cynedom. I’ve never actually been addressed as King before. Bloodline titles are a little pretentious in the modern day. As for records on queens, maybe our study cabin has something of interest? Though they’re mostly replicas of the museum’s collection.” Odysseus continued. But the peach haired maiden before him, continued to look around listlessly.

“What interests you? There’s a lot of traditional stuff going on, so I always ask guests.”

“Those five colourful knights; They look my travel companions when I was Queen.”

“There’s a traditional knight’s school up at North Pointe; Top graduates are sent here as a: royal guards.” Odysseus giggled. “We hold re-enactments of me titling the top five. They’re named after plants, and I have to dress up like King Eatheltwein. Wait, Queen?”

Merriam burst forward: “My nephew! Wait, would you have documents if I said I was Aunt Merry? That’s what he called me.” Merriam chimed. Not only did she find some fine knights, but got to hear about Eatheltwein. Jupiter had the right idea. But Odysseus’s face went grey, as if he was about to feint.

“Ah. That Queen… Let me guess? Magery was a factor? What is it with wielders of time magic? Odette restored the entire ranch when I had a breakdown. For practice. Now she’s using her Beast Queen enchantments to resurrect her lost loved ones? This is why I give people hoarse therapy, and toss goats; Magery isn’t dangerous, it’s absurd. But to double check it’s really you, follow me; I think I know where I saw you.” Odysseus smiled.

Merriam followed him to the teal ‘prince’s’ cabin. He had prepared it in case Morgan, or guests, needed it. In the kitchen, upon the far wall, was a gauzy painting of Merriam and her husband dancing. She wore no makeup, and Nihten was on her head. She was wearing her favourite blue dress, and Francian pearls. Her husband’s sage tunic, was embroidered with roses and strawberries. The background was dim, and they were lit ethereally. At the bottom, it was signed by Merriam’s niece-in-law; She loved to paint. Meriam felt a little cold and empty. Now such whimsy, as that portrayed before her, felt unattainable.

“That’s it. The only thing that has your picture on it.” Odysseus gestured. Merriam stared at the perfect image of her One True Love. Captivating by the feeling of a waking dream.

“Just kidding, I have a few diaries from King Fredrick, Eatheltwein, and some other letters mentioning you by title such as: My love, The Queen, and Aunty. No hint of magery, nor a ‘Merriam Craweleoth’, however. Honestly, I wouldn’t have believe you if Odette hadn’t fixed this place.” He chuckled leaving Merriam in the room. She silently sat, enchanted by the painting. Merriam had no words; Just a subtle sadness and longing. She remembered that night well. It was before they went to Doi Veng in the Eastlands, and she accepted her trauma and gratitude. Fredrick crossed the Shadow Veil, going dark while in old age, just to go with her on a quest. He knew how much she loved adventure. That memory gave Merriam so much comfort in her later years. Now she was unsure if it filled her with joy, longing, or furry.

Meriam, got up and took warmth in seeing what had, and hadn’t, changed here. The sinks ran clean water, Eatheltwein’s ancestors adored magic, and there were still goats, ducks, pears, and knights. She felt like she was on a quest again; albeit a lonelier one. The sort where she didn’t know what the destination was. Merriam loved those ones; They contained novel experiences. Then Merriam felt sad, knowing that Eatheltwein and her knights were long gone. That her husband, who died before her, left her unable to ever love again. Merriam was trapped in a younger body, with nothing to her name. lost, she looked down at the worn floors. Only alerted by a tap on the window.

NEXT--->

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#tales of ealden cynedom #odysseus #merriam #eatheltwein #fantasy #short stories #Jupiter

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talesofealdancynedom · 1 year

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Merriam in the infamous blue dress.

37. The Second Chance (chapter 1 - Glass Coffin 1/5 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams.

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Torn from her family, and forced to wed and bear and heir. Having Traveled the world’s magic forests, to bring peace to the ten lands. Her betrothed king husband, actually a One True Love. Embracing her beloved nephew, and precious daughter. Five merry knights by her side, on grand travels. After achieving peace, and meeting many, she buried her husband of sickness, saw her nephew wed for love, and have his own children. She started to grey through her enchantment, that slows ageing, and found ease in retirement. A mage of time, who lived a long fulfilling life; And met death openly, by the hands of her kingdom’s wizards. Falling into the comforting Shadow Veil, now at peace. The last thing she sees, is her lost daughter, who wed the King of Ravens decades ago. Though her daughter could heal, Merriam requested to pass in serenity.

Any mention, by name or depiction, of Mage Queen Merriam Craweleoth, was burned. Everyone fell silent about their peace-bringer. She was dead, like all the mages of that time. Wizards now rested their minds, having killed the last of the mages they feared. The new magic users. But in their bias, they no longer wanted to acknowledge the mages who aided them; Not even if one was a Queen.

But Odette, her daughter, lived on. Eternally wed to a tenth of magic, and soaring as the giant skulled opal raven. This was Odette’s dream. Living in the ether, she forgot her human life, but not her mother. For The Lost Princess Odette, now Raven Queen, had a terrible secret. By chance alone, she wielded time magic like her mother; And loving her mother so, healed her after she lost consciousness. Unable to let go, Odette put her mother in a near-death sleep. She transmuted a case of glass and gold, and hid it in plane sight. Her mother rested in the Raven Kingdom, wearing only the chamise she died in. surrounded by her precious enchanted trinkets, journals, clothes, and signature black fairy-robes. Even Merriam’s Kestrel familiar nestled on her pillow. As time passed, Odette visited less; Just as her cousin’s descendants. Soon leaf litter, and fallen branches, covered the coffin of the once courageous Queen. Odette defied her mother’s greatest wish, and happy ending; All because she felt they parted too soon.

It had been centuries, and the loss of time in the Shadow Veil took the memories of the once human Beast Queens. Occupied with parenting fey with their King, their past lives disappeared. But something strange happened one day; A boy visited the ten kingdoms, and became brother to The Beast Kings. There was a new King Mage, named Morgan. He uncovered and restored so much of magery, that soon there were many people realizing they were mages. Times were changing. Humanity started to visit the ether again, and the Queens asked about their pasts. History restored, at the cost of the Queens remembering who they were. Odette remembered she was the lost princess, who loved her family deeply.

Odette recalled her cousin, Eatheltwein’s, ranch; And his bloodline that her Raven King husband cursed. A hidden royal spell, demanding each heir be a mage, in order to visit her. Even though the Monarchy dissolved into parliament, the heirs remained. Odette suddenly regretted marrying so young. She yearned for the childhood and life she could’ve had; The one her parents wanted for her. She reversed time on the ranch, so it looked like it did when Eathel lived there. She went to Morgan’s wedding, having missed her cousins. He was a descendant; No wonder he stirred her memories. At last, Odette remembered her mother was hidden in the ether.

After centuries had passed, Odette brushed off the grey leaves, to see her mother through the dirty glass. Untouched by time, though still silver in her hair. It seemed cruel, to keep her mother’s wanderlust spirit trapped away. Thus, Odette woke her mother, and her familiar, with an embrace.

Odette remembered that her mother mused about a different path in life. Her mother was so angry about having the choice taken from her; As a child Odette could tell her mother contained fury. It was beautiful to see her mother at peace after a life of resentment. Odette decided her mother should be given a second chance. But Odette saw the burn on Merriam’s ankle, from the broken True Love Spell with Odette’s father. Her mother deserved only the best second life. Thinking quickly, Odette transported her mother to the pools of Fountain Nymphs, in Pepperidge academy, and went to abuse time once more to fetch her father.

Merriam was disorientated as she felt engulphed by water. The eager hands of angered naiads, pulling her into the teal pool. Each minute turned back the clock on Merriam’s body; For Fountain Nymphs enchant the water they bathe in. Their water healed all wounds, and returned youth. But those things are meaningless if the human drowns. Naiads are unkind to those who take their water without asking. The last few Fountain Nymphs in existence, held Merriam under. She was unable to scream. Merriam emerged just long enough to breath, before fair hands groped at her. Merriam had been in many magical conundrums, but she never thought nymphs knew malice. After ten minutes of struggled breaths, she got out of the pools and came to her senses.

“Missy, how’d you get in here? You don’t look like any of the new students.” A Northland man asked. His hair red and eyes soot grey. He had a tag: Master Hara Fyrstan, Professor of fey. Merriam looked around to see she was in a garden encased by ceilings and walls of glass; filled to the brim with fey. Merriam stood up, coughing, before the man. He looked away as her muslin gown clung to her.

“This is private property; I’ll have to call our town paladin Tchitchi, to escort you off school grounds. Well, after we get you some dry clothes...” Hara said. Merriam, recalling her status, took a breath and stood tall.

“Escort me off, Sir? I am a grown eighty-year-old Queen-Mother. A seasoned Seer Mage. You dare reprimand a senior, who also has no clue how they got into this…. Academy?” Merriam paused. “You mean to say, this fey garden is for teaching wizards? Are you one of them? You want a go!?” She snarled. Merriam caught her familiar Nihten without looking away.

“I have no clue who you are Merry, and have no interest in violence. The insanity card won’t work on me; I teach troubled youth for a living.” Hara said, dragging Merriam by the wrist to the dormitory, where he tossed her some satin pajamas and a towel. He then went down the hall to call for a paladin.

Behind the screen, Merriam toweled her hair; It felt longer than she remembered. She put on the knee-length mauve gown, of which she was sure would no longer fit her figure. Merriam looked up into the mirror, to see herself the same age she was wed. The uncanny sight churned her stomach. Merriam’s life flashed before her eyes; She wasn’t supposed to be alive. Odette had betrayed her; And it boiled her blood.

“Where is my daughter Odette! Hara!” Merriam yelled. No response. She looked into the mirror, and summoned her babble sphere; It shared a chain with the small hour glass she used to move time. Her chest began to tighten in the silence. Merriam realized she had never been alone. She always had knights with her on travels, and a husband at home. Handmaids too. She lived her days in a palace, with people to help her. She had no life skills or money, only magery. She was completely alone, and helpless. There were objects she couldn’t decipher, and no one to call for. She felt cold in the academies stone walls.

“Thought that would fit you. My true love never wears it. You were yelling for something?” Hara asked. Merriam took a breath to calm her voice.

“What is the date? Where are we? My babble glows like you speak a different language, but the building material indicates we are in Anglia. I need barring’s. My daughter Odette must’ve taken me here for a reason. She me alive with the power of time-”

“Oh. It’s that sort of deal.” Hara slumped. He didn’t know Merry, but he sure did know of The Raven Queen. “Well, we’re in Pepperidge Academy, and it’s eight after dawn on-”

“Pepperidge? Is this town still a diverse trading post? Did Francia give us trains?” Merriam asked. Hara froze. Everywhere had trains. Trains were invented by The Central North of Francia centuries ago. Merriam just dated herself. Hara blinked twice. He wasn’t qualified; Only Morgan knew of such history, and never mentioned a Queen Merriam.

A half-hour later, and Tchichi arrived. She slouched seeing Merriam sitting distraught in the office.

“She looks like a regular young woman. Hara, You made it sound like she was mentally unstable.” Tchichi whimpered. “Well, since you’re just a Commoner-”

“I am a Mage, and of high-title… Was of high-title. Regardless, I will not be escorted by a lesser knight with a magic stick.” Merriam interjected.

“Oh. Well, you still have to go into town. Schools going to start. Melida is our senior Mage-Paladin, if you’d prefer, we’ll call her to escort you.” Tchichi continued. Merriam scowled, and stubbornly followed her.

Tchichi’s took Merriam to her nephew Amadeus. Quick to accept magic as truth, she believed Merriam; Of whom insisted as Queen, she should stay with a local lord. But Amadeus refused to take a guest due to personal matters. His father gave Merriam homemade tortillas and Salsa-Verde, and as town Witch, dictated she stay with Cetus and Jupiter down the street. Morgan and their daughter had recently moved out, giving them a spare room. Merriam quietly ate her green spicy mess, while she watched Cetus knit, and complete, a pair of knee-socks for her. He gossiped with his wife Jupitar, the whole time. Merriam suddenly started crying, leaving her hosts unsure how to help. Merriam could release as a day had passed. Cetus and Jupiter gave her tea and a soft bed to rest. Once calm, Merriam’s curiosity got the better of her again.

“You’re from Francia Jupiter, but you Cetus, are you from here? Were you ever taught about a Queen Merriam Craweleoth, during the war period? In school or by story? Maybe mention of the mother of the lost princess?”

“Nope. But if she did exist, Morgan would know about her. But my nephew’s pretty busy these days. That’s a silly question anyway; You have bigger fish to fry then obscure history. You should just rest and acclimate; It’s on us.” Cetus smiled.

NEXT--->

#art #merriam #tales of ealden cynedom #Odette #fantasy #short stories

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talesofealdancynedom · 1 year

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A Magma Drake; Did you know I started my online artist presence drawing dragons?

36. The Dormant Forge (chapter 5 - Beloved abode 5/5 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams.

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Regina was fed up. Those stupid coins were the last straw. She yelled while trying to use a knife to get the silver from the crevices of the floor. Then the pacing started; Reggie’s heavy steps creaking the hard-wood. Wyverndor felt cold before her love’s suffering. They had done everything they could; Short of destroying the house that protected them from the inferno. Reggie was emanating enough vitriol towards the universe, she couldn’t give Wyvern a glance. Eventually, Regina lay on the floor panting. Wyverndor gave her a hug, and lay next to her.

“Now I have to fix the floor too! It’s always what you never see coming. I’m developing anxiety, Wyvern. I just wanted a nice little house, in an epic forge, with you by my side. I’ve had it! Wyvern, bring me my axe.” Reggie whimpered.

Reggie gripped the axe, ready to renovate after drinking enough water to slosh. All this for a sizable amount of pocket change. She was desperate, angry, and broke; Even for someone who can turn things to gold. They don’t accept gold at the market or pub, nor West-Silver. Regina was getting the feeling life is just ambivalently resolving minor problems moment to moment.

“What in all wonders was used to make this floor?” Reggie yelled, struggling to pry. She finally heaved so hard, that the axe flew across the room as the floorboard slapped her. Holding her nose, she lent down to gently removes the loosened wood, as Wyvern rolled back the carpet, and gathered the coins like a pidgeon.

“I hope that’s all of them.” Wyvern waved, placing them int the jar. “Now we get to put the floor together again! Like a puzzle! Puzzle time!”

“Are you kidding me?!” Reggie groaned. Wyvern paused: had she gesticulated the wrong thing?

“I know you feel defeated, after all those tribulations getting here and settling in. And also, the constant fear anything could go wrong any second. But in the end, what else are you going to do with your life right now, aside form fill your father’s order?”

“No, Wyvern. It’s not that. Look...” Regina said, pointing into the crawlspace. Wyvern looked over, to see what was making her wife weep. Behold: The center gate diagram, carved into the house’s foundation. Obscured by the rest of the flooring, but a hole big enough for Reggie to sit in, go dark, and open the gate.

“Awesome! Now we need you to really reflect on your anxiety; Catastrophize about loosing your dreams! The village could be calling a wizard to murder you for magery, this very minute. Dare the universe to mock you, Reggie! Let’s get so devastated, that you unite the veils!” Wyvern flailed.

“I can’t Wyvern. I’m so happy.” Reggie sighed. “I finally found it. Something fell into place. Fruit for my labour.”

“Then cry from joy?”

“I’m not quite that happy. This isn’t the best day of my life, it’s just a relief.” Reggie sighed. Wyvern kissed her in a last-ditch attempt; But nothing. Regina had a bout of inner peace, and thus was incapable of getting emotional enough to pull magic through her being.

After giving up and forging her father’s order, Regina went into town. She was too tired to cook, and wanted company; The fey had finally agreed to a curfew. They could relax, having accepted Regina into their abode. As night fell, Regina climbed out of the pit, and changed into her jewel-tone socks, cargos, and boots. She strolled the flats, down the backstreet, and saw the boy being reprimanded by the conductor, his mother. Reggie felt compelled to intervein.

“Want to go to pub with me?” Regina yelled to the conductor. The two looked at her; her fairness was emphasized by the dark clothes, thus making her look like a ghost.

“Master Geagmann, why are the fey quiet and dim? It’s so silent and dark, I’m scared. Can I please go to the gate to see them?” The boy cried.

“You’ve driven him mad! Made him a mage too, I bet!” The conductor snapped.

“Firstly, mages are a percentage of people born in magic house; It’s random. Also, the fey know him, and would’ve told everyone he was a mage. Lastly, your mom is right, you may not go near the forge; You could slip into the fires, hexes, or the Shadow Veil. If the fey are fond of you, they’ll come here peacefully.” Regina explained, crouching to the boy’s level. The boy still looked sad.

“So, you didn’t fix the gate? The fey didn’t all leave to see their families?” He asked. Regina shook her head.

“I need to go dark on the epicenter, which I just found. But I’m unable to emotionally destroyed myself to do it. I’m normally pretty good at controlling my ability to go dark. Some mage, eh? I’m sorry.” Regina confessed. She felt she’d failed the community more then herself. To Reggie’s surprise, conductor and her son gasped.

“Don’t go dark! You’ll die!” They yelped.

“Nah, I’ve already done it several times. I’ll be fine.” Regina said casually. The little family wasn’t breathing, and a man came to the backdoor to see what was happening. The dread in the mother’s emerald eyes was consuming. Regina was taken aback.

“Stay for dinner! Yes. To thank our local magic user for calming the fey, and talking sense into our boy.” She offered, pulling Regina into the house. The boy grabbed her knee; Reggie’s stomach churned. Not only was he cute, but affectionate and near summoning her baby fever. Arousing the memory, she’ll never have one. She sunk, but not enough to thin the veils.

“Don’t go dark; It’s fine if the gate is closed. It’s been closed for generations, and we’re all well. We even live harmoniously with the fey, who have yet to crawl form the furnace. We want you, fire wildlings, and others, around. You’re my friends.” The boy pleaded. “I don’t get along with the other kids. please Master Geagmann! I don’t want it quiet and dark at night; I like the fey watching over us!” he sobbed. Regina looked at the concerned adults around her.

“Shame to have our newest edition kick the bucket for a silly magma pit.” The conductor coaxed, sitting Reggie at the table.

“It’s not some pit; It was someone’s home. It’s my home...” Regina said, pausing. She took a breath, and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Trust me; I’m a professional! I’ve seen great things happen when gates are opened. If you really want, I can tell them it’s ok to stay up late.” She continued. The conductor stuffed potatoes into Reggie’s mouth.

“Only if you promise not to die, then.” The boy bargained.

Regina knew being tiered is the best way to get emotional. Having journaled, Reggie sat by the glowing window in the main room. She saw a white kitsune curl up on some rocks to sleep; It had a little mound it fit perfectly on. Home, she thought. The bellowing earth made Hawkhaven a home to the people. Sure, they complained. But inside they needed it. Even the cabin, was home to someone like them. Someone who loved this place. That’s why it was uncomfortable to live in the cabin; It felt like home the second she entered. But not quite her home. It had a lived-in warmth; Tidy but worn. It radiated familiar comfort, like the whole area. It wasn’t a real volcano, but a mystical vent around a diagram. It was made with thought and love. Something beloved and special, just as she dreamed.

About to doze off, Wyvern ran and grabbed the junk bowl; She could see Regina become homesick and confused. Primed for crumbling. Just a little longer, Wyvern thought, dashing to get the journal box. Regina yawned and unlocked the first one. The first page had a poorly drawn Monafyra crest. Only Helrem could make something so undecipherable.

“…Today I learned to make protection spells, by harnessing the strength of the stone kingdom’s rune; I can’t wait to show everyone!” The first entry said. The spelling was off, and writing poor. Ealden Anglian, as any mage. After reading similar entries, including the songs Helrem’s mother sang to him, Regina grabbed another:

“…Father say’s I’m big enough to work the metal with him. I’m tiered of sewing and carpentry with mother. I’m sad today thought. She say’s the fireproof tunic I made for father, scared her. But in town, father and the other men loved it; They gave me raspberries…”

Most of the entries were about mundane crafting, that Helrem couldn’t help but make magic. Each invention made those around him smile. Reggie had sat in the hole, on top of the gate, and read the books off the intact floorboards.

“I was commissioned to make a blade of shadows for the prince of my homeland. Shadow silver forms the everlasting black-fire. I put wolves on it, and hope he likes it…. Me and father had to cross the mountains, as the chieftain’s hall is inaccessible by ether; As I don’t know where it is, I can’t summon the blade to him…. Today, along the cold passage, I saw a radiant maiden. She was preparing a wood-bison, and had the silkiest hair I’ve ever seen. Her voice was like twilight, and father had to part us. She decided to join our party… On the way home, I asked the darling maiden to merry me. We all stopped, and made a new house. However, my family confessed they were weary of the fire that bubbled up around our home. I really thought making, and opening a gate, would enthuse them; I’ve only ever seen awe on the faces of common men, before unimaginable wonders. I apologized, as it was an experiment gone array. Father forgave me, and said the Vulcanic nymphs were his favourite…”

Reggie was starting to understand Morgan’s obsession; She was getting lost in these little glimpses into her hero’s life of magic. She eagerly turned the pages:

“My wife has given me a son; We named him Murdoc. She heard it from an Anglian merchant once. I want to go back to the forge, but it’s no place for a baby. Not to mention I ache without my darling. Maybe someday, I will bring him there… Murdoc is a mage, and his inexperience with spell-craft is endearing. It makes everyone smile when his enchantments burst into stars. My wife said she wishes she could howl stars from too. It made me wonder if other housed Common-Folk, would also enjoy using magic. When I surveyed the travelers back to the forge, the consensus was yes.” A journal concluded. In the silent night, Reggie felt the pain of missing her cousin and friends; Yearning for home as Helrem did. Regina remembered watering grandpa’s garden; It was also an experiment gone array. She grabbed the next journal, as Wyvern fell asleep on the carpet.

“The forge, though engineered to last forever, is keeping me from my family. Life changes, often unexpectedly, baring gifts and misfortune. We’ve adopted a mage boy named Tiberius, from Anglia, and thus my presence is needed. Hawkhaven also doesn’t have mundane things I need to experiment with, for making wands... I’m sad to leave my forge behind. The desk was a gift from father, and I was born in that bed. All the little enchantments I did to this place, while learning magic, mean a lot to me. Little things I overcame. So many memories. But perhaps the new ones I’ll make with my own family, will be equally important. I hope this place will be here, for any Warlock who wishes to also make it a home. I’ll even leave it ready to move in for them. I bet someone will dream of this place, as me and my brothers do…” Reggie stopped reading. It was getting to her. It was feeling personal; She could see why Murdoc left these journals here.

This beloved geothermic abode was made with love, and tied just for her. Regina was so excited to occupy this legend, with such youthful entitlement. She even traveled a great distance, and done so much to claim this place. Not out of respect or desire for comfort, but duty and sport. A quest to have a magic forest, make cool swords, and so on. She forgot she’d moved from home, and that this place wasn’t just thing, but a treasured place. Abandoned for centuries. Regina suddenly felt honoured to have it; And guilty for focusing on her frustration instead caring for it. She’d ripped the floor boards, and tried to fix what wasn’t broken. Reggie dropped the book, and looked at Wyvern. A soft amber glow was reflecting from her shining surface. Regina had gone dark. She felt and the heat boil her blood. She was in perfect control as she trained, and whipped the tears form her face. Out the window, she saw a thin film ripple inside an Inukshuk. The gate was open. She’d succeeded, and had no clue how to feel about it.

Regina went into town to tell the boy she’d opened the gate. Most of the fey left for a day or two, but came back. The boy hugged her. Their fey friends resumed frolicing in the night; Creating an ambience Regina began to appreciate. She was settling in. She went into town for the company, and felt at home. They complemented the clothes her father knitted for her. Reggie fired up the forge, and sent her father his order. The Radio her mother gave her, played either the Grand West or Central North radio, depending on her mood. She used her own tools, and the ones Helrem left. She imagined him using them. Reggie sent letters to Morgan about it, via the desk. Sleeping next to her love, Regina saw that the clock had broken. She fell asleep, comforted by what is both a small inconvenience, and labor of love. She’d forgotten all worry that plagued her.

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Tales of Ealden Cynedom: 36.The Dormant Forge (4/5)

36. The Dormant Forge (chapter 4 - Slightly Off 4/5 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams.

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Regina started her work enthusiastically. She managed to restore five Inukshuk doors with Wyvern’s aid. A lava drake and fire wildlings also offered to help, but Reggie assured them she was doing fine. When she took breaks, she let them know about the local’s plight for nightly silence. The igneous troll, insisted the miners talk fondly about the warm night-light and grumbles. Reggie rolled her eyes, and continued to assemble the next landmark. She certainly wasn’t finding the howls of flame a sleep aid.

There were three summer and three winter Fey Kingdoms; Which meant the directions each inukshuk faced, was very specific. After reassembling the Monkey Kingdom one, Reggie pulled out her compass; She was off by three-degrees South-East-East. She whipped the sweat from her brow, and looked around to calm dawn. The small things were at it again; Like that boy watching her and the fey on the south ridge. Reggie froze, and when their eye’s met, he ran.

“That kid was so close! We need to keep him out of here!” Reggie said, watching Wyverndor punch the Monkey inukshuk door into pieces. The top rock, with the Mann rune for the Monkey Kingdom, shattered. Wyvern covered her mouth.

“Well shit. Now I have to carve another. Wyvern, can you make me a new rock like it to carve?” Reggie asked dryly. The damage was already done, and not worth fretting. Either she was developing patience, or was desensitised to inconvenience. Reggie summoned her stone-mason kit, as Wyvern handed the rock over. Making rocks was one of her royal specialties. She followed Reggie, who carried the heavy rock the three-degrees she missed. Regina stood on the south ridge, by the Dragon inukshuk, to make sure no more Common Folk came to close. Steadily, Reggie flacked and carved the rock into an ideal shape. Wyvern held the compass, and hefted the stones in the right place like they were Styrofoam. Reggie was into it.

Wyvern lifted Reggie up, to place the rune stone, and they moved to the next Inukshuk. Not a few paces along, they saw the boy again.

“Hey, kid! Stay back, this place will burn you without Fairy-Robes or proper equipment!” Reggie yelled down.

“But I come here all the time to give shortbread to the fairies. Mother’s busy running the trains all the time.” He said, fanning his face “Want some miss?”

“No th-” Reggie stopped mid sentence; she was starving. With a shrug, Wyvern turned back into the gem in Reggie’s neckpiece, and they slid down the ridge to the boy.

“You have tea-time here?” Regina whispered. The boy nodded.

“Are you aware, that if you put the biscuits by the window, instead of the edge of a fire-pit, the fairies come to you?” She continued. The boy contemplated this a moment, before interrogating Reggie further.

“Last night, the whisps said you’re a mage; But not the one they were hoping for. Do you know who Helrem is? They miss them, and I hear fey can die from sadness. I don’t want my friends to die.”

“Oh. Yeah. Um, Helrem lived here long ago, and invented wands. The fey must not understand how long it’s been. Lost in time, emotionally and physically, they don’t conceptualize our lifespans. To them, he might as well have been here yesterday, or on his way home. I never occurred to me to tell them Helrem’s dead…” Regina said, following the boy into town. He seemed to be admiring her.

“Your pretty; With the lipstick, dress, and fairness that reminds me of the coast. Mother says you’re from the Grand West; I hear it’s greener than the lowland hills.” He continued, letting her into the stone house; There was rose porcelain dishes with cracking glaze, and a gauzy painting from Francia. Blankets from The Far North, washed to near felt. The town must have been a trading post; These things looked old. The boy set up the tea, and offered Reggie food for the fairy advice. When she asked if the nightly rumbles and laughter bothered him, the boy shrugged having never known any different.

Refreshed, Regina and Wyvern returned to finish the last four inukshuks; All that was left, was for Regina to go dark in the center of the gate. As the cabin was in the middle, Reggie looked inside one more time. She stripped to her shift, and began looking on her hands and knees. The problem was that Reggie had unpacked, and the place now had rugs, mugs, and books tidily filling each inch. She began randomly opening things, in hopes of finding something; Knowing she’d already checked there. Wyvern led her into the cellar; The shelves now stocked with gifts from the fey for crafting, and food she summoned. Large tanks of various dragon fire, rare ore, avocados, flame clover, oats, water, an old sizable box, tea, and pickles.

“Wait a minute.” Reggie paused. The tiny key was still in the dusty box, just like the desk. Matte chestnut varnish, and scrapped sides. Turning the key, the front opened. Inside the box was a room, of which was filled with little diaries. The spines had various misspellings of Helrem’s name; Among those of other familiar mages. Wyvern just reached in, and pulled out a periwinkle one. It also had a tiny lock on it.

“It’s adorable! It looks brand new... I had one like this when I was six. The mage who made it either made the box protective, or these books have protection tags like the ones Morgan sews into restored journals.” Regina smiled.

“I wonder where the keys are.” Wyvern signed.

“They’re in the junk bowl. I kept finding them all over the cabin. I’m too superstitious to toss keys.” Regina admitted, putting back the journal, and closing the box. They left the key in as before. Still unable to find a gate, they went upstairs, and heard an odd whooshing from Helrem’s desk drawer. Wyvern opened it to find a regular letter. Reggie ripped it open.

“Dear Master Geagmann,

I’ve been informed about your mailbox from the King Mage. I write as I am in need of a Warlock. I wish to commission five illusion bracelets; I hear you’ve made ones that hide the colour changes of going dark. I know many people who want to see themselves without their enchantments. If you unfold the letter, the West-Silver payment should pour out of it. Please send this order via summoning to my address.

Happy Forging,

Dad”

Regina was unimpressed. Her first customer was her father, and it was for a dinky trinket. Regina wanted to forge a summer steel sword of fire, not her regular fair. But her cousin was right. Regardless, she crumpled the letter; And coins started spilling from it uncontrollably, scaring Reggie into juggling the letter and jumping back. This released more coins. Wyvern tried to catch them, but they fell between the floorboards and under the main carpet. Regina fell to her hands and knees, and gazed into the space between her and the worn hardwood.

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Wyverndor overlooking the ridge of Hawkhaven Forge.

36. The Dormant Forge (chapter 3 - Hot Crib 3/5 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams.

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Approaching the steaming ridge, Regina changed into her Fairy-Robes. The Fairy King had modified them, to honour Regina’s union with Wyverndor. She glittered like garnet. Her protective garbs were fitted, with long sleeves, gloves, slim calf boots, and a bustle. Workplace appropriate, tailored, and protective against spell and sword. They even brought out Wyvern, and Regina’s adornments of bronze thorns. She could almost be mistaken for a proper lady.

When Regina reached the top of the ridge, she saw a round field of magma. There looked like ten paths radiating from a center mound, akin to Tiberius Gate. Reggie chose one to walk down, and slowly felt the heat through her protective clothes; The heat of a kiln, was nothing compared to the furnace she entered. Regina hastened up the rocks, to a central house, and hastily entered. She then looked around, and noted the acclimatizing spell about the beams. The house seemed to have runes within the grout, between the cedar. Everything had chestnut dragon varnish as well. The cabin only became more curious, given its tidiness; Even the low bed, covered with felt and fur, looked clean and untouched. There was a bedroom, kitchen, washroom, and living room; None with doors. There was a fireplace, and a cellar downstairs. On hooks, were little crafted medallions of colourful beads and feathers. It was cozy, yet liminal; Like the owner would return any moment.

Out the window, was the actual forge; An adjacent shack, closer to the lava. It rumbled whispered with the fey within, and resting on its banks of scorched earth. The forge breathed with fey of fire, larger then she’d ever seen. Regina didn’t know what she was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

Wyvern came out of Reggie’s necklace, and started unpacking. Regina summoned her things from home; hopefully letting her family know she’d arrived at her destination. Wyvern was soon distracted, however. She curiously examined the desk in the main room. The rough desk had a lock holding its key, which Wyvern turned. The drawer popped open, reveling a sooty purple letter. The soft noise caught Reggie’s attention.

“Neat. I didn’t notice that desk. It’ll be perfect for journaling and notes.” She smiled. Wyvern pulled out the letter, and handed it to Regina; She couldn’t read, but wanted to know why such a normal object was hidden. The letter had the Monafyra house crest on it; A crescent holding flames and stars.

“This thing looks months old, but it must be centuries… This cabin is too inhospitable for anyone other then a mage to reach.” Reggie said, opening it:

‘Dear mage,

This is my father, Helrem Monafyra’s, summer forge. He crafted it well, but used it less and less as he got old. The invention of wizardry, was actually in our long-gone mountain home. He asked his journals be given to my brother Tiberius, in the Grand West of Anglia. Only his childhood records remain here. I was too sad to touch them upon father’s death.

Father died surrounded by love, having had a fulfilling life. He never got to say goodbye to this place, but I think he was ok with that. He trusted the future, unlike me.

I ask you be its custodian; Use the forge, and make wonderful things. Love the fey, and life itself.

May you have a Happily Ever After,

Murdoc Monafyra.’

“Oh, that’s the Seer whose journals inspired Morgan. I guess this explains how he got his hands on the original copies of Helrem’s work.” Reggie concluded. She then felt heavy, sitting at that desk. This empty house was a home, that once held childhood memories. This place meant something to someone. Not just a dream, but a lifetime. Now all that was hers.

The next day, Reggie looked around for the gate’s center; She still had to open it. It would be a round compass diagram, with runes in the directions of the Beast King’s; The Table of Fours, that show all magic correlations. Regina thought something so recognizable would be obvious. But it wasn’t in the forge, nor in the cabin. Reggie had worked hard to be fit enough for crafting, but she was still gasping in the heat. She shuddered at the thought of accidentally forgetting her Fairy-Robes, before leaving the house. Wyvern had endless stamina, but her search was equally fruitless. Regina, stared across liquid rock, that drakes splashed and nymphs danced. She fell to her knees screaming to the sky.

“This keeps happening! We should just go to the pub! I should’ve lied to the conductor! Why did I think for a minute, that this goal would be attainable!?” Reggie sobbed.

“The Pub! Good idea! Maybe if we stand on the ridge, we’ll get a better view for searching. I’ll get the binoculars!” Wyvern signed, running into the cabin. A moment later, and Regina staggered behind her, as they took an east path to the ridge, facing the mountains.

“Why East, Wyvern? The town is South.” Reggie said, taking the binoculars. She scanned across the pools: Screaming fire wildlings and coal unicorns resting on the lava banks. Fountains of magma bubbled up, as a fire basilisk swam about. The fey were excited to see a mage. But to Reggie, everything was hues of fire and tar. Wyvern stood a blue beacon upon the ridge.

“I don’t see anything.” Reggie sighed; Her eyes were sore. Wyvern took the binoculars like a giddy child. Reggie still wanted to go into town for food. She had one Northland Knot left; She could alchemize water, but not snacks. Wyverndor was looking out into town with the binoculars, and Reggie snatched them back. She looked across the large bowl of fire once more, as the sun set. She shielded her eyes to see what looked like an inukshuk on the West ridge. Regina skimmed the ridge further. Rocks had fallen over, and some still stacked. That tradition is from the Far North, not Northlands; Helrem must have made them, being from across the boarder. Reggie continued, to see a toppled pile facing North-East, with the Tree Kingdom Rune. She couldn’t find the gate, because she was in it. The lava pit was the gate. The gate was broken. She needed to manually put up the ten inukshuks, in exactly the right directions, to fix it before she could open it.

“You want to eat, dance, drink, and bed together? This looks like a tomorrow problem.” Regina said, looking into the middle distance. They’d spent the whole meeting fey and running around, and she wanted nothing to do with this place.

“Are you sure? I can help lift, being really strong like father.” Wyvern gestured.

“Are you sure? The Northland is known for producing and eating the most potatoes per capita. Brought from far off lands, just before they started to consider the meat of children.”

“Oh, really? Well, maybe I can make an exception; Be young and stupid with you, this one time.” Wyvern beamed. Pomme de tarre: Gets goblins, gnomes, giants, trolls, and gargoyles, every time.

Fey can’t get drunk. They are made of magic, and not easily effected by the material. The evening consisted of Wyvern being an excellent partner, by watching her rowdy wife mingle. They danced, and petted some fine plaids. Regina asked people what they wanted from her, as their new local magic user. However, she wouldn’t remember due to ale. Either by brew or laughter, the people seemed to be less weary of Regina’s mage title. A few more pints, and people gasped at all the crystals Wyvern could make her human form into. When Reggie fell off a table dancing, Wyvern paid for the roast potatoes and drinks, then walked her One-and-only ‘home’ to ‘bed’.

At dawn, Regina woke with a pounding head, and Wyvern laying across her. Her human form felt perfectly normal, in spite of looking like minerals: Heart beating, warm, and soft. Even her straight hair fell perfectly, and Wyvern chose to comprise of diamond. The mourning light shone through the window, making her glow. After a moment, Reggie nudged Wyvern awake.

“So, what do the locals want? I asked them, right?” Reggie said, rubbing her head.

“Telling the fey to respect everyone’s sleep, I think? They have a point. My cousins made a racket every two hours, waking me; And I sleep like a rock.” Wyvern gesticulated. “Did you know this place even has Tree-Children?! Flaming plants Reggie!” she flailed.

“Yeah. Pretty neat, I guess.” Regina groaned.

“Where’s your enthusiasm? We have to heft rocks, and convince the meandering consciousness of my brethren to do something! While hung-over!” Wyvern continued, flushing pyrope.

“Oh shit. I forgot…” Reggie gasped. Then she got an idea. “If we fix the rocks, maybe we can bribe the fey; I won’t open the gate, for them to go home, until they respect bedtime!”

“You’re a mage; Opening the gate isn’t a bribe, it’s your job. Maybe just ask them nicely? After fixing the inukshuks, that is.” Wyvern proposed. Reggie folded before Wyvern’s whims. She agreed, and got some dishes from a box her mother packed. Maybe some mourning tea would help. Upon starting the kettle, and reaching into the box, Regina pulled out a radio; The same model as her mothers. The instructions were in Modern Francian. While the water boiled, Reggie fiddled with the nobs to find a channel, only to receive white noise at every frequency. Unease rippled through her, as she searched for the feeling of home; Trying to procrastinate her new life’s challenges. Regina understood now, why her mother liked hearing from home. Something comfortingly familiar, when such things are so far away. Reggie listlessly left the red radio on the desk, with her journals, on the way out to stack stones.

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Tales of Ealden Cynedom: 36. The Dormant Forge (2/5)

36. The Dormant Forge (chapter 2 - Fifteen Silver Short 2/5 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams.

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Everything was fine as Regina got he ticket to Hawkhaven. Mr. Topper took her on the daily train from Pepperidge, to The Grand Station; The international hub, historically symbolized peace. It represented The North Central of Francia, giving the world trains they invented, as a part of their peace treaty; According to the signs you could read while waiting for your transfer. The ticket boys were adorable, and entranced by the black and green behemoth; Aches and brass lamps, eight platforms, and noisier than a firework festival.

When Mr. Topper chugged the train away, Reggie knew there was no turning back. She admired her green ticket; It had shinny pieces, to indicate authenticity, and a bunch of numbers, that must have meaning. Two hours later, a vending machine had eaten ten West-Silver from her pockets, leaving Regina hungry as her ticket was punched.

“Wait ma’am; I need to see a magic license if you’re bringing fey on board.” A ticket boy said. A line was forming behind the red-eye rail. Regina searched all eight pockets of her cargos, and pulled out her summoning note-book; She showed the first page, where she had scrap-booked the license into the cover.

“Have a nice trip ma’am!” The he nodded.

“Ma’am? I’m a magic-user; It’s Master, thanks. Also, how did you know my neckpiece held one of the most difficult fey to find?” Regina growled while boarding.

“Well, Master Geagmann, you have a gorgeous crystalline goblin behind you. She looks like a princess!” The ticked boy chimed. Wyvern hugged Reggie from behind.

“Thanks, I love my wife. Have an awesome day sir.” Reggie said casually, kissing Wyvern. The rest of the midnight trip, people either slept, or uncomfortably watched Reggie and Wyvern check off a list of romantic activities.

Strike midnight, and the train stopped at Holtwine Station; The boarder between The Grand West and Northlands. A station attendant boarded, and woke everyone to check their identities and tickets. He stopped at Regina last.

“All of them. On the table.” He said. Reggie was confused, and felt picked out. She normally felt the Celtician accent was happy, so his tone was off-putting. Reggie pulled out her passport, Grand West ID, and magic license. The attendant’s eyes narrowed as he read her ID.

“Master Geagmann, do you have a birth certificate? We check first-time travelers before giving the stamp of approval.”

“Bullshit.” A passenger yelled.

“Francian people need someone to vouch their character. Your stature and paler gives it away. Your posture even.”

“Sir, I’m slouching, quarter Danian, born Anglian, half Francian, annoyed, and want to talk to your manager.” Reggie growled, summoning her birth-certificate; Clearly stating she as born and raised in the Grand West, and in fact, not from The Central North of Francia. Regina felt like she was going to erupt. She’d accumulated small inconveniences which wore her thin. bubbling her anxiety about the fragility of aspirations. Making her feel unwelcome, at each stage of her quest. Wyvern stood up, and raised her hand. The attendant jumped back, yelling profanity.

“I’m half-human, can I vouch for her?” Wyverndor signed. She was mute, as rocks are, and learning sign language was one of her and Reggie’s bonding activities. The station didn’t have a translator, and Regina was escorted offboard, and give a caught at the station. They said it was for smuggling fey.

When Regina woke, she checked her necklace for Wyverndor, to thank her. At least her True Love was there. Regina briefly wondered, if she should have brought her father. Wyverndor turned human again, and lay next to Reggie.

“Just imagine how wonderful the forge will be, when you arrive! It will feel so deserved after a long journey. Oh look Reggie; They left you bread by the locked door.” Wyvern signed. Reggie groaned when she heard a knock. She clenched her fists for a proper slug, as she stood at the unlatching door. The officer was mishandling the keys. When the door opened, Reggie could see a cold sweat upon the officer’s brow.

“We called the embassy, and we don’t have a North Central department, because they seldom enter. Only postage and trade, I’m afraid. They also said the attendant was racist, and he’s on suspension. Our apologies ma’am. We’ll cover your ticket to your next destination, and help you apply for a work permit.” The officer assured. Reggie wasn’t amused.

“Thanks. It’s Master Geagmann by the way. I’m heading to Hawkhaven, if that’s ok.” Regina sighed. The officer paused, as if Regina was crazy for choosing that destination. Wyverndor climbed back into the necklace, as a ruby this time. The officer walked off for the documents, while Reggie yelled into the linins.

“I have a Happily Ever After; I’m enchanted with good fortune. My dream in nye. That forge is going to be so cool. So cool. So worth it.” She whimpered.

The next train had knots of sea creatures carved into the beams. Instead of benches along the windows facing each other, there were double seats all facing the same way. The maintained economy car, even had cushioned seats. Every inch was jewel-tones, from wood to carpet. Regina bought some mints, ale, and a sandwich off the trolly; And some crisps for Wyvern. As the train went, it emptied at Hassburry, the capitol, and continued in silence. Reggie walked around the empty car, looking through the windows. The green soft rolling hills had sheep, transformed into old growth forest, then marsh. Each mile under a dimmed sky that was about to rain. Steadily, the marsh turned rocky, and sun red. With a deafening screech, the train stopped at a frail bright orange station. The announcement said ‘End of Line’, and Regina disembarked.

Reggie’s face was slapped with cool air, and heat that radiated up her boots. Like a fever, or she was about to vomit. Finally at the destination, she kissed the blacked platform. The train turned off and cooled with a release of stream. Finally, the conductor jumped out and stretched.

“Wow, you must’ve come a long way to be our tourist! Never seen one kiss the floor though. The rumors are true by the way.” She gleamed. Reggie looked at the unhoused engine.

“Miss, you worried about Big Blitz here? She’ll be fine; Strong enough to survive without a barn. Let me show you to the pub!”

“I’m not a tourist, I’m your mage. A Warlock who can probably just transmute you a nice crate for Blitzen.”

“Oh, no… Mages are maniacal legendary beings! One used a blade of shadow, to cut down the city long ago, and stole a maiden on his way back, after failing to conquer us. Another used to make us toys from the screaming fires, past the glowing ridge. We don’t need one of those! We have families and live modest lives; I’m begging you to go.” She quivered.

“Come on, I just need to go dark on the gate, craft the unimaginable, and care for the fey. Won’t even know I’m there.”

“you want to make the voices stop, make trinkets, and live in the ridge then? So, you’re not dangerous, just mad?”

“Yup. I’m a normal person. Oh, but you should also meet my one-and-only; She’s crown princess of the stone Kingdom!” Reggie smiled. The conductor stepped back slowly. Reggie slouched further, and started staggering to the rumbling volcanic dam, looming over the town.

“Rain check for getting wasted at the pub when I’m done?” Reggie yelled to the conductor, who hid behind the ticket booth.

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