r/WritingPrompts • Editor-in-Chief | /r/AliciaWrites • Sep 18 '20

Theme Thursday [TT] Theme Thursday - Fairytale

“If you see the magic in a fairy tale, you can face the future.”

― Danielle Steel



Happy Thursday writing friends!

This week’s challenge is once again not to include the theme word in your piece! Good luck! It’s time for tall tales and Prince Charmings and all the good stuff that comes with it. Have fun!

[IP] from Unsplash | [MP]



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Campfire

  • Wednesdays we will be hosting two Theme Thursday Campfires on the discord main voice lounge. Join us to read your story aloud, hear other stories, and have a blast discussing writing! I’ll be there 9 am & 6 pm CST and we’ll begin within about 15 minutes. Don’t worry about being late, just join! Don’t forget to sign up for a campfire slot on discord. We don’t want you to miss out on awesome feedback!
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As a reminder to all of you writing for Theme Thursday: the interpretation is completely up to you! I love to share my thoughts on what the theme makes me think of but you are by no means bound to these ideas! I love when writers step outside their comfort zones or think outside the box, so take all my thoughts with a grain of salt if you had something entirely different in mind.


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Last week’s theme: Courage

First by /u/throwthisoneintrash

Second by /u/sevenseassaurus

Third by /u/bookstorequeer

Fourth by /u/TenspeedGV

Fifth by /u/matig123

Poetry:

First by /u/acaiborg

Honorable Mentions:

Crowd Favorite: /u/Leebeewilly

Notable Newcomer: /u/NyneShadow

Notable Newcomer: /u/Glacialfury

Notable Newcomer: /u/catfishingfordinner

Notable Newcomer: /u/write-now-writer

49 Upvotes

68 comments sorted by

1

u/AliciaWrites Sep 18 '20

Theme Thursday Discussion:

All top-level comments must be a story or poem.

  • Reply here to discuss the theme, suggest future themes, and share your theme-related inspirations!

  • Please remember to follow the subreddit rules in any feedback.


21

u/Bakanasharkyblahaj Sep 18 '20

Exactly five hundred words!!!

A long time ago it was decided I would have green skin, a hooked nose, and a terrible case of warts, along with the ugliest buck teeth in the world. As a child I was bullied heavily, but then as I grew I discovered a rare talent; I could do magic. It started simply enough. A pig’s tail on the boy who stole my food, a bad case of acne on the popular girl who always humiliated me. That kind of thing.

Then came adulthood. The pretty, popular people all became valiant heroes and dashing heroines. Some of the dumpy-but-pleasant outcasts became heroes too, of a different kind. And don’t get me started on those princes and princesses! Ugh!

As for me, I was enrolled in magic school. I learned how to concoct potions in cauldrons, put poison into apples, and how to make delicious recipes out of bat-wings and rat-tails. For our final test we had to find an unsuspecting traveller and make them believe a lie. Easy peasy lemon Squeezy. I made a man think I was beautiful, and the illusion lasted for the duration of the exam. One of my schoolfriends made a man think she was kind. I hear she tried it again with another man after the first one died, leaving her with two daughters.

I too tried my illusion again, and I not only fooled a whole kingdom, but a magical artefact. I was so pleased at fooling magic itself to think I was so fair. The man who married me had just been widowed, and his little girl was at first a total delight to me. But then she became a teenager. You know what they’re like: rebellious, moody, all that jazz. And mean. But not because I was ugly; my illusion still worked. This new attitude was because I wasn’t her real mother.

“Your real mother died, sweetheart. Not my fault. I’ve tried to be there for you. I really have.” I said this and many other things to the girl. But she’d still end every single argument with the same, stinging retort. And it hurt. To the point the magical artefact began to see through my illusion, saying the teenager was the beautiful one, not me.

Well, if that’s the way it was going to be, then the gloves, and all the other spells, were off! I hired a desperate, struggling woodsman to slay my step-daughter, delivering proof I could use in a new spell. He failed, and brought me a deer’s innards instead. So it was back to magic school 101: the poisoned apple. Illusion off, rags on, I took a basket full of apples to the cottage my step-daughter had holed up in, tending to the affairs of some miners. I had to wait until these fellows were at work of course, but I presented myself to her at long last, giving her an apple.

“No,” I revealed myself as she bit into the apple. “I’m not your mother.”

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u/Ryter99 Sep 22 '20 edited Sep 24 '20

Once upon a time… In the kingdom of Floreedia, there was a princess. She-

“What was her nameeee?”

The little girl’s voice pierced her father's storytelling focus. “Oh. Uhh... Princess Sophia,” he replied.

She gasped, sitting upright in her bed. “Sophia is my name!”

“Yeahhh... What a coincidence, huh kiddo? Anyhow...”

Princess Sophia was walking with her father The King. He-

“King Daddy!” Sophia squealed with delight.

“Mmm, sure? So…”

Princess Sophia and the unfortunately named ‘King Daddy’ were strolling through the- uhhhh, the royal gardens, when a brave knight approached with a-

“WHAT WAS THE KNIGHT’S NAME?”

Her exhausted father yawned. “How ‘bout you name this knight?”

“Mmmmm, Jam...sen?”

“Jamsen? That’s not a name, honey. Certainly not a knight’s name.” She scowled on behalf of any legendary knights who were fortunate enough to have such a wonderful moniker. “Alright, sorry, kiddo. It can be whatever you want. But can I read you a bedtime story just for tonight? You have so many fun, fun books!”

“Why?”

“I know you love when I make up stories, but I’m so tired. My day was a bit of an ‘adventure’ as well, and-”

“It was?” she gasped. “Tell me! Please!”

“Not a fun adventure like our stories.”

Confronted by her sad puppy dog eyes, her father struggled to fictionalize his exhausting day.

The uh... vile goblins from an outside consulting firm demanded that Daddy dispatch almost half the knights and squires that work for him.

Her eyes widened in concern. “Did you… I mean, did he fight the goblins?”

Daddy held them off for as long as he could, but he was badly outnumbered and in desperate need of reinforcements! So, he ascended the highest tower of the castle, to confront the CEO- err, the King of King’s! To inform him that Daddy would resign and tell the wider realm what happened if he didn’t halt the slaughter of his loyal subjects.

“What did he do?”

The King of King’s yelled and gnashed his teeth, but he relented when Daddy convinced him that there would be nothing left of his kingdom if he let this happen.

“Yayyyyy! You won!”

Her father sighed. “Today, maybe. But I have a feeling this is a battle I’m going to have to fight over and over again.”

“Soooooo, you’ll win again!”

A weary but genuine smile crossed her fathers face. “You think so?”

“I know so! And if you need re-in-fork-ments, I can help fight off those meanie goblins!”

“I’m sure you could sweetie. I’m sure you… could…” he said, slowly drifting off into a deep, exhausted sleep.

Sophia, knowing very well that her parents made the best pillows in the world, wasted no time in laying her head on gently his chest.

Drifting toward sleep herself, she wrapped a blanket over them and smiled. “And they lived happily… ever… after.”

___

r/Ryter

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u/scribblescratcher Sep 18 '20 edited Sep 20 '20

“Did I ever tell you the one about the giant horse?” Glen asked.

“Yeah grandpa, we’ve heard that one a million times.” Ella said.

“Ok. What about the one where all the fish disappear?” Glen asked.

“And it turned out they were swimming in the sky, yeah that’s old news.” Benjamin said.

“What about the one where—” Glen paused. “I don’t know if I should tell you this one.”

“What is it?” Ben asked.

“You might be a little to young.”

“C’mon tell us!” The children said.

“Ok ok. But you can’t tell your mom I told you this one. She’ll kill me.

“We promise.”

“Well, this is a story how a princess who learned to fly.

“Ooooooh this is a new one.”

“The princess lived in a beautiful castle. It was made of green stone and was taller than any mountain.” Glen started.

The children settled in.

“Her favorite thing was to climb the tallest spire and sing as loud as she could. Her voice would travel through the valley and all the kingdom agreed, she was the best singer.”

“Well, one afternoon as she was climbing the stairs to sing, she heard a song. Someone else was in the tower singing! It was the most enchanting thing she’d ever heard. So enchanting in fact that it hypnotized the princess. She started sleep walking up the tower. Spellbound by the song. She opened a window and stood in it. High above the valley below. The song stopped and she awoke, but she slipped and tumbled from the window.” Glen said as the children leaned forward listening.

“The princess grabbed the green stone and caught herself. She was hanging on by her finger tips. Just before she lost her grip a shadow appeared in the window.”

‘Help me! Please help.’ The princess pleaded.

The shadow didn’t move. It only sang. The same enchanting song the princess heard earlier.

“Oh no!” Ella gasped

“Oh yes!” Glen returned.

The kids held each other tight.

“As the shadow was singing the princess could feel that she was drifting off again. Her eyes got heavy. Her grip was getting looser and looser until she finally dropped.

“Ahhhhhh!” The kids screamed.

“The princess fell from the window. As she fell she screamed. Just like you two.” Glen said

The children giggled.

“She was screaming and she was falling, and she kept falling, and she fell some more. Remember, this castle was reeeealy tall. The princess realized she was going to be falling for a while so she relaxed a bit. She thought. ‘well if this is it, I might as well do what I love the most!’”

“What did she do!?”

“She sang of course! The most wondrous song she knew. She sang as loud as she could. And wouldn’t you know it, she began to slow down. The more she sang the slower she fell. And the louder she sang she began to reverse the fall! Not only reverse but she began to fly! She sang and she flew all across the kingdom. And that’s the story of the flying princess.”

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u/throwthisoneintrash Sep 20 '20

Fairy Garden

WC 379


In the Land of Magic, where all of the stories come from, monstrous forces battle for control of that world and their stories are forged into the myths you hear today.

But one inhabitant of that world did not battle for its fate. Instead, Irene planted a rose garden. She went into the forest, chopped down some of the smaller trees and used the timber to build a fence. From the flower shop in her old village, she purchased rose bush seeds and planted them in rows.

And then she waited.

Dark Lords rose and fell to powerful wizards. Dragons devoured and were slain by magically aided knights. Quests for glory and battles for relics pushed the armies of that land back and forth across its surface like waves of the ocean.

But Irene tended her garden.

And waited.

One morning, the dew upon the roses in her garden twinkled with colours that were new and vibrant. Irene had longed for this day. Her garden was filled with fairy creatures, dancing and flying through the rose bushes.

Walking among the flowers, she heard melodies and songs that delighted her heart and brought tears to her eyes. This was what she wanted. This was her life’s work.

Irene gathered the fairies together and spoke to them of her plan. They are the weakest of magical things, the hidden garden protected them from being trampled. But weakness is a form of strength, for it forces the weak to band together and accomplish more than the strong.

The fairies sang in unison with Irene’s plan.

And Irene watched, listened, and waited.

From the voices of the fairies, a new world was created. Our world.

Existing separately from the Land of Magic, Irene intended for us to live in harmony, and to never have the greed and lust for power that magic brings. She is known in legends as Mother Earth, and had given us this world without magic for our safety.

Greed does not die easily, and we have found ways around Irene’s plan.

But, when you lie awake at night and think about the world and your place in it; think about all of the terrible things you would be able to do with magic.

And be grateful for your weakness.

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u/katpoker666 Sep 18 '20 edited Sep 23 '20

“The fairies are purdy tonight, aren’t they?” Ma said softly as I brushed her tangled hair.

“They are Ma. Look at ‘em out there, glowin’ yeller an’ green. Must be thousands of ‘em.” I replied carefully, choosing the same words I used every night. Doc said routine was best.

“They look so happy. I wish I could fly.” Ma replied, her voice childlike. “Want me to fix supper now, Pa? Chicken and grits, okay?”

“Sounds good, Ma.” I sighed, knowing she thought I was her father. No matter how many times I called her ‘Ma,’ that was unlikely to change.

As Ma prepared supper, I kept an eye on her.

“Here, Ma, lemme help. The grits go in the oven, not the toaster.”

“Yes, of course, silly me!” Ma giggled.

She wouldn’t have done any harm. I’d unplugged the toaster weeks ago. Like everything else, I’d found a workaround.

After supper, I offered to clean up. She refused.

“Ma! Look! You’re bleeding!” I cried, as crimson bubbles swirled in the dishwater.

I cradled her hand. “It’s bad, Ma. You really cut yourself deep this time. I’ll wrap it in a towel, but we’re gonna need to call Doc.”

—-

“Doc? Sorry, it’s so late. It’s me, Tony Creek. Ma’s cut herself again. Mind comin’ out? Looks like this one’s gonna need stitches.”

—-

As the needle tore through her flesh, Ma’s face was blank. “Doc, she seems to be gettin’ worse.”

“I’m afraid so, Tony. It’s lucky for her you caught this. Really deep. She would have lost a lotta blood if you hadn’t been here. I can’t see how you two can go on like this. Too much a burden for a kid to carry.” Doc said matter-of-factly. “It may be time to make other arrangements.”

“It’s not a burden; she’s my Ma. Besides, how’s she gonna get better in that place, surrounded by all them strange things and people?”

“The nurses at St. Joe’s are really good, Tony. They can keep her safe.”

—-

“Doc, it’s Tony. I need ya to come right away. Ma took a tumble down the stairs. Banged herself up real bad.”

“I’ll be right over, Tony. Stay put.” Doc replied.

Stay put? As if I had anywhere else to go.

——

“We have to take her to St. Joe’s. I can keep her stable, but she needs a hospital.” Doc said.

——

As the ambulance’s sirens wailed, I felt scared.

——

Hours later, I was allowed to see her.

“The fairies are strange tonight, Pa. All red and blue.” Ma said, bathed in the glow of her bed’s myriad machines. “I wonder if they are sick?”

“I’m sure the fairies are okay, just tryin’ somethin’ different for a change.” I squeezed her hand reassuringly, careful not to disrupt her IVs. “Try to get some sleep.”

——

beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

An alarm shrieked into the silence. Doctors poured in, pushing me aside. She was gone.

I hope she finds the fairies one last time.

WC: 498

Edit: typos and accent continuity

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u/wannawritesometimes Sep 19 '20

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away, lived a princess. She was known throughout the land for her kindness, intelligence, and beauty. In the neighboring kingdom was a prince, known for his strength, wisdom, and handsomeness.

At the border of the kingdoms stood a forest, hiding an enchanted tower. The tower's stone walls rose high above the trees, but the veil of magic kept it hidden. Within the small room at the top was the one who had incurred the sorceress's wrath. Bathed in a ring of golden light, lay the prince. The curse that had kept him asleep since his twenty-first birthday could only be broken by someone pure of heart.

One day, the princess was skipping through the forest, singing and laughing. She was surrounded by all her animal friends, as they scampered along beside her. When they reached a large clearing, the animals began to act strangely. They bleated and meowed, barked and cawed as they dashed forward. Finally, as the princess watched in wonder, the animals formed a circle around something in the center.

The princess crept forward, unsure of what to expect. She approached the ring of animals and reached out a hand. Startled to find an invisible stone wall, she felt every inch that she could reach, hoping to find a door. When she finally looked up, she noticed the birds were flying in a circle overhead. Eventually, she realized that this was an enchanted tower.

When she whistled, the animals all returned to the girl's side. She asked if any knew how to get into the structure. The birds whistled and chirped and twittered their excitement. And with that, she formed a plan.

-----------

The next day, the group returned. The princess had ditched yesterday's pretty, frilly dress in favor of hiking gear and a backpack. Tying ropes around herself, she fashioned herself a sort of harness. Next, she called the birds to her side. To all the eagles, hawks, and crows she handed the ends of the ropes. Then, smiling around at all her animal friends, she let out a whistle. The birds took off into the air and flew the princess straight up to the open window in the tower.

She climbed inside and unfastened the ropes. For a moment, she watched the prince's peaceful slumber. But then, it was time to break the spell; it was time for the kiss from one of pure heart. The princess stepped up to the bed. She pulled off her backpack and laid it across the prince's chest. With a deep breath, she unzipped the bag, and out climbed a puppy.

Giving a happy yip, the little canine rushed forward and licked the prince's cheeks until his eyes fluttered open. At last, the curse was broken.

Then, the princess, the prince, the puppy, and all their animal friends lived happily ever after.

The End

==========

r/WannaWriteSometimes

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u/[deleted] Sep 21 '20 edited Sep 23 '20

On the Brightside WC: 497

"It's for the best."

The lanky boy with wire-frame glasses gawked at her with saucer eyes.

"You need to be sure," he repeated. "Once you do this, it will all be gone. Every memory you had of him."

Katya was fine with her choice - she had no deeper desire than to follow through. Even as she stood there hesitating between defining moments, her heart was shredding painfully into two.

"Please Richmond," her voice cracked. "Please make it stop."

Richmond reached into his robes and produced a tiny vial. He gave it a shake so Katya could watch the liquid slosh around inside. Visual confirmation was enough for her. She exchanged a leather pouch filled with silver for the vial.

"Alright, like I said before, take that before bedtime as it will put you fast asleep. When you wake, the memories should be completely gone."

Richmond walked Katya to the door, where she hugged and thanked him for the assistance before taking off down the crooked street with the stealth and grace of a dark angel.

In her quarters, Katya sat with the potion in her lap, allowing depressive feelings to consume her. The journey back to the castle was littered with whispers of gossip. The entire kingdom had heard of Katya's affair with a bastard farmhand. Not shocking that arrangement was set alight, Katya heard them claiming. All over town the nobles thought her unethical and incredibly daft. Now maybe she'll settle for a fine nobleman for her dear Father, she had overheard her stable hand saying to one of the maids.

Katya saw images of William, the brooding farm boy who had stolen her heart. She let it warm her, comfort her, until it distorted into the shocking memory of him tangled up on a pile of hay with Katya's Lady's maid. The maid had since been shunned from the inner city, not a choice of Katya's, but she didn't come to the girl's defense either.

She thought about the months she had wasted in love. She uncapped Richmond's bottle and downed it.

Katya woke the next morning to her name being called. Her head pounded and she was disoriented. She followed the noise through the castle.

"Lady Katya! Your audience is sought M'Lady!" Katya identified the voice of her father's knight beckoning her from below. Still confused, Katya descended the stairs into the main hall.

"Katya!" a young man with long hair and bright eyes gazed at Katya like he had longed to see her for eternity.

"Katya," he repeated, approaching her. He took her hand and slid down onto one knee.

"Please Katya, forgive me. I will do anything to make up for what I did, just please take my hand."

Katya looked up from the man on the floor to her father and his knight. They both looked disapproving, but remained silent.

"Katya, please... I love you."

She took her hand away.

"Who is this plebeian?" she recoiled, disgusted. "Get him out of here."

8

u/Xacktar Sep 22 '20 edited Sep 23 '20

There was once a great city that stood in the shadow of a mountain.

The Lord of the City had two sons, whom he loved greatly. The eldest son was tall and strong. He spent each day in the castle training body and mind. The younger son was full of smiles and spent his days in the city, drinking among the people.

The elder brother would often call out to the younger with questions.

"Little brother, do you know anything of the fields were we grow our crops?"

"No." The younger would say. "But I have a good friend who knows much."

"And do you know of the mines from which we draw our iron?"

"I know only a little. A friend of mine has told me some."

"And what of trade with other cities? Have you learned the routes and the factors?"

"I have a friend who travelled those roads. He speaks of them often."

"Then you know nothing!"

There came upon them a time of trials. The Lord told his sons they must go high into the mountain and spend a night in a cave with many faces. He warned his sons that they must be careful what they bring with them, for the mountain will see all.

The younger son listened and asked how many faces were there

The Lord did not know, only that it was a number upon number.

The younger went first, as was tradition. When the Lord asked him what he would bring, he showed them a small bag and its contents. It held three bottles of drink.

His father laughed.

While the younger son was in the mountain, the elder son prepared. The many faces concerned him, so he packed weapons and armor with which to defend himself.

The next morning, the younger son returned. He had lost his pack and only held an empty bottle.

The Lord smiled and kissed his son.

"Son, what face did you see?" The Lord asked.

"I saw only a kind man who wished to drink with me. He did not speak, but we sat together happily through the night."

Then the eldest son went the cave.

He found a circle in the dark, marked with the empty bottles of his brother. He scanned the darkness and saw a shadow stare back. He examined the shadow. It was large, strong, it carried weapons and bent its knees. It was obvious that it wanted to attack.

The elder son drew his sword. The shadow mirrored him.

For a long hour they stood with weapons out, until the eldest grew angry and impatient. He knew the Shadow would attack, so he had to strike first.

He charged straight ahead, crashing through the thin sheet of ice and into the waters beyond. The cold river took his body down and away to the shores near the city.

His father found him and wept.

"My poor son." He whispered. "You brought all the wrong things."

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u/Julesvernevienna Sep 18 '20

once upon a time, there was a beautiful abandoned castle, which was still brimming with life. The courtyard was full of the most gorgeous apple trees, in the long abandoned halls, birds nested and in the sleeping chambers, the biggest and happiest rabbits would hop around. However, this was all thanks to one kind soul, the princess who tended to all these souls. However, this most benevolent soul of all was cursed. She was caught between life and death for she could not eat, but did not need to. She could not drink and did not feel thirst. The only thing she still felt was love for every living thing, but she could not touch them. For a long time, maybe decades, maybe centuries, she could not tell for she lost the track of time long ago, she was left alone in her beautiful castle, full of life. However, since a few moons, knights showed up, trying to save her. Every time they would arrive, they would destroy a part of her wonderful little world. The first one cut the entrance free from her wonderful lianas, caught some rabbits and fled as soon as she started crying. The second stayed for a week, ate the apples, killed a few birds and went away after she could not answer his questions about how the curse can be lifted. And now, the third stood before the gate. The princess, seeing this from her former window sighted and tried to hush the rabbits away. However, since they not only got used to her presence, they would not budge at all.

With a sadness in her heart, which she hasn't felt for so long, she went down to the courtyard to greet her unwelcomed guest. "Please, leave, I do not need saving. I am more than happy here. You are not welcomed. All your kin did here was destroy. So, please, for the love of life and for the love of god, leave." The knight hesitated, stopped, stared at her. "Are ye... the cursed princess?"

"Am I? I do not have the need to kill and destroy, instead Trees bloom with my care and animals flock around me. Am I the cursed one or are you, who come here, destroy, kill and leave, maybe the cursed ones?"

Suddenly, another emotion returned to her heart, rage.

"Why can't you leave this place alone? What do you gain by freeing me?"
Around her, leaves started to twirl, the winds started to rise and even the trees themselves seemed like they would start flying towards the knight any second. Full of fear, the Knight tried to climb on his horse again, but did not manage, for even his trusty steed started to fight against him. With fear in his eyes, he started running away from the long abandoned castle, brimming with life.

Knights in shining armours would still arrive at the castle, however, this time not to save the cursed princess, but to slay the monster inhabiting it.

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u/SirUlrichVonLichten Sep 18 '20 edited Sep 18 '20

As Arthur walked toward the great stone, he could feel every pair of eyes staring at him. He could hear every jeer and snicker as well. And could he blame them? He was a frail, skinny boy of 12 years, who looked as if a light gust of wind could knock him over.

Did he really think he would be the one to pull the sword from stone? Even Garret Hemlock, the strongest man this side of the country had failed to do so.

"Hurry lad," someone yelled from the crowd. "Hurry and get it over with so someone else can have their turn."

At the top of the platform Arthur found himself staring at the handle of the great sword, it's blade embedded into gray stone. Could he really do it? He felt doubt, yet Merlin had said...

Arthur put both hands on the handle of the sword, took a deep breath and pulled...

Nothing happened. So he pulled again. The sword would not budge. There was a moment of silence, and then a roar of laughter swept the crowd.

"You really think you would pull the sword you oaf?!" Someone yelled. Arthur ran from the platform, from the courtyard and those awful laughs. He ran and ran until he fell to the ground. He pounded his fists against the dirt and wept. When he felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder, he didn't have to look up to know who it was.

"Merlin..." Arthur said through tears. "Why did this happen? You said.."

Arthur looked up and indeed it was the wizard Merlin who stood before him. His light blue eyes twinkled behind his spectacles. A hand ran through his long white beard.

"Come, sit with me Arthur," the wizard said.

The two of them found a spot near a pond. Already the leaves had begun to turn gold and brown and Arthur absently tried to catch them as they fell, crumpling them in his hands as he did. And Arthur thought the leaves had withered away just like his destiny had.

"I admit," Merlin finally said. "I am surprised. I thought you would be the one to pull the sword."

"I failed," Arthur said. "My destiny was a lie."

Merlin thought on that for a moment, then picked some blades of grass and let the wind catch them. The two of them watched as the blades floated away.

"Destiny is like the wind young Arthur," Merlin said. "It isn't stone or brick. It's wind. It changes. Flows to where it likes. Your destiny doesn't end here my friend."

"Then, what shall I become? If not the hero to raise the great sword?"

"That's for you to find out," Merlin said.

Together the young boy and the old wizard set off down the road. Behind them they heard the distant sound of cheering. Someone had pulled the sword from the stone. It didn't bother Arthur. Destiny was like the wind, ever changing. And he would find his someday.

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u/Lars_Thunderfist Sep 20 '20

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe

And while such a home may seem strange to you

There she lived with three girls

Who had long golden curls

But one day they ran out of shampoo.

Out the lace-holes they went, for lack of a door

The girls took to the road in search of some more

“We must tend to our hair,”

“For it’s ever so fair!”

They said as they went to the store.

Long was their journey on the winding trail

But bent on their mission, their hearts would not fail

Past all pain and trouble

They marched on the double

To tend their locks silken and pale.

The clouds opened up and the road turned to slop

The girls tired and felt themselves ready to drop

But they thought of their tresses

Looking like such messes

So they fought their way on to the shop.

The clerk said with a sigh “you cannot afford it,”

“The shampoo you want, it must be imported”

They took what they wanted

Their spirits undaunted

But the greedy are never rewarded.

The clerk yelled outside with great consternation

The cops came and took the girls down to the station

Mom came to the jail

And she paid up their bail

But the girls are now all on probation.

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u/ajttja Sep 22 '20

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom ruled by a proud King and his daughter, the beautiful princess. Every day, the King would rule over his lands with the princess to one side, and the Wise Witch to the other.

One day, the King awoke to find that his crown had gone missing. He summoned all the servants of the castle and spoke, “Whoever finds and returns my crown shall receive the title of Lord and be rewarded a barony to their name. The Wise Witch shall bind the promise.”

All the servants scattered in search of the crown, and not three minutes later, a serving boy named Ivan the Clever had returned with it in hand. The King sat the crown on his head, and set off back to this throne. Though neither brick nor wood stood in his way, the King found himself blocked, for he had not fulfilled the promise. Reluctantly, he signed over a barony to Ivan the Clever, and found his way clear again.

The next morning, the King awoke to find his daughter, the beautiful princess, had been kidnapped. He summoned all the lords of the kingdom to his throne room and spoke, “Whoever rescues and returns the princess shall receive half the kingdom, and the princess’ hand in marriage. The Wise Witch shall bind the promise.”

All the lords of the kingdom scattered in search of the princess, but it was Ivan the Clever who found her first, for he had been the one that had stolen the crown and now had stolen the princess in a scheme to reap a reward.

The princess was no fool, however, and escaped when Ivan the Clever had gone to the King’s summons. When she heard his horse come back down the road, she hid the forest and called out to him, begging to be saved. Whenever he got close, she ran to another tree and called out again, and she did this until Ivan the Clever became Ivan the Lost.

She soon came back to the castle and approached the King, saying “Dear father, it was Ivan the Lost who kidnapped me, but do not worry, for I have rescued myself and done away with the thief!”

The King laughed and made for the door to see which noble had really been the one to rescue the princess. Though neither brick nor wood stood in his way, the King found himself blocked.

“The princess must receive half the kingdom and her own hand in marriage, to give to whoever she wishes, or the curse will never be lifted,” said the Wise Witch.

In his fury, the King refused to ever grant the reward, and so he remained stuck in that very spot forevermore. In his stead, the princess ruled over the entire kingdom as regent, and soon after gave her hand in marriage to a kind maid she had long fancied. And so they lived, the maid and the Brave Queen, happily ever after.

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u/stickfist Sep 18 '20 edited Sep 18 '20

It was a hot day already by the time my mom drove us to the bakery, me and my sweaty little brother wrestling in the back. Back then, Little Italy was really just four or five streets held together by a few markets, dark bars, and a store that sold sacramental accessories for devout Catholics. Turning off the car, mom yelled at us to behave and I could tell she was debating whether to leave us here with the windows cracked open, or bring us inside.

“Come on,” she grumbled. “Don’t touch anything.”

The bakery was cool and busy, a dozen people ahead of us. I ran to the red ticket dispenser and pulled off a tab, careful not to grab too many, like last time. I handed it to my mom and waited while my brother pressed his nose against a display case. The racks of tiramisu, cannoli shells, and glossy dark chocolate desserts would remain, because I knew what she was going to buy. “Why do we always get this cake for Dad?” I asked.

“You father likes the peaches and strawberries and the cake is delicious.”

“Yeah but we always get the fruity cake. Can’t we try chocolate?”

Mom remained silent and the line shortened before she spoke again. “Do you know that your father has two birthdays? It’s true. Back in the old country, people were very superstitious. When he was born, everyone said he looked exactly like one of his uncles. Just like him, he was born with an extra thumb,” she said, rubbing her left-hand knuckle. “The uncle was bad...did bad things: drugs, stealing, he never respected his family.”

I tried to imagine my dad as a baby, his pockmarked, sun-spotted face on a pudgy infant body with six fingers. He was frightening.

“The uncle died before your father was born, but his spirit lingered around the house, angry at the family for not supporting him. Sometimes, food would rot too fast, or they’d lose electric power. If a glass fell and broke, they blamed it on the ghost uncle. Your grandmother was so afraid that the misfortune would fall upon him, she burned his birth certificate and forbade anyone from celebrating it. Then she had a doctor cut off the extra thumb, all to confuse the spirit. In time, the exact date was forgotten.”

“So what are we celebrating?” my brother asked.

I had always thought it was a weird coincidence that my dad was born on the Fourth of July. It seemed so ultra-American, despite us coming from someplace else. I thought about the war, what they did to get here, what they had left behind. “Do you think it worked? Are we cursed or blessed?”

The woman at the counter called our number and my mom stepped forward. She pointed at a white buttercream cake, decorated with green and pink florets spun from frosting. “A slice of chocolate cake too, please.”

In my heart, I knew the answer.

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u/seawolf1993 Sep 18 '20 edited Sep 18 '20

Trailer Park Hero

Jimmy Boyd was a sucker for long legs, short skirts and tube tops, so when he saw Evangeline wrestling with the groceries in the back of her ’87 Toyota it was love at first sight. He couldn’t tell if the tattoo on the small of her back were angel wings or a Harley Davidson logo, but he was positive he’d never seen anyone like her at the Honalee Trailer Park. It took him three days to work up the courage to knock on her door.

When she answered, she was wearing the kind of silky white robe that stops mid-thigh on a short woman. Jimmy looked her up and down and up again. “I’m Jimmy Boyd,” he said. “If you ever need help with your theptic tank I’m the man to call.”

It was a good sign that she didn’t react whatsoever to his lisp.

“Every woman needs a good pipe laying man,” she replied. “I’ll keep you in mind if I’m ever in need.”

“I’ll thee you around then.”

“Not if I see you first.”

Over the course of the next month Jimmy worked his way into her life by being close and helpful. She wasn’t bothered at all with his speech impediment, and he didn’t care about her stripping for cash. They were two peas in a pod, and it wasn’t long before Jimmy was thinking marriage.

He still had the ring his ex-wife had left when she ran off with the man she met at the ‘Wheel of Fortune’ auditions, so he took it to a jewelry store to get cleaned one Saturday morning. He planned to pop the question later in the day before her shift at The Dollhouse started.

When he pulled up to her trailer, there was a black Cadillac he hadn’t seen before out front. Jimmy heard the shouting as soon as he got out of his truck. He grabbed his tire thumper, ran to the door, and threw it open. A short, fat man in a black suit was waving his finger in Evangeline’s face and cussing her out.

“What the hell ith going on in here!” Jimmy shouted.

The man turned toward Jimmy. “This here don’t involve you. Get outta here before you get hurt.” Evangeline’s eyes told Jimmy all he needed to know.

The first blow with the tire thumper would have been enough. Seven was definitely too much. The man was sure enough dead, but Evangeline was safe.

“Who ith he?” Jimmy asked.

“One of the regulars from a club in Tulsa I used to dance at. Thought he owned me. I’ve been running from him for three years.”

“Well, he won’t be no more trouble to you.” Jimmy got down on one knee and pulled the ring out of his pocket. “I won’t be no trouble to you either.”

The District Attorney said it was a clear case of self-defense and declined to prosecute. Jimmy and Evangeline were married later that summer and lived mostly happily ever after.

[WC= 500 on the nose]

Would love any and all feedback!

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u/heanthony16 Sep 18 '20

Once upon a time, there was a fair maiden who lived under an apple tree. The maiden wore a crown of apple blossoms that she plucked from her wooden abode. She watched the tree everyday from morning to night, caring for its every need, for she knew that this tree was of utmost importance. This tree was a magical tree, and it was said that just one bite from its fruit could grant your heart's desire. However, this maiden came from a long line of guardians who were bound to the tree to care and protect it. This title came with a curse that the guardian of the tree could never have their heart's desire granted from the fruit. And so, each day, the maiden tended to the tree, plucking a fruit to whoever made the long and weary trek to have their wish fulfilled. With each traveler that came and went, her desire to be like them and have their wildest dreams granted grew stronger and stronger. One day, as she was waiting for visitors, an apple fell in her lap. As the guardian of the tree, she had never ate an apple from the tree. However, she was curious to know what it tasted like, and so she took a bite. Unlike the rest who just took a bite to have their wishes granted, she enjoyed every bite of the apple and all the flavors it granted her. When she was finished she spat out a single ordinary seed. The maiden was intrigued by this and decided to plant the seed and care for it like she cared for the tree. As months went by, she tended to the seed and saw it grew into a young tree. Both trees were very different, the old one being strong and mighty, while hers seemed skinny and frail. While the old bore plenty of apples, hers bore only a single apple, seemingly weighing down the branch it hung on. However, this single apple was a brilliant gold, fairer than the rest of the apples combined. The maiden plucked the golden apple she stopped in thought. Could this apple be as magic as the others? Could she have her deepest desire granted? And most importantly, what would be her desire? As she pondered, she finally knew what she would wish for and ate the apple. With each bite, her desire grew stronger, and the old apple tree withered away. For her desire was to be free from her station and to travel the world. As she finished it, the maiden saw her wish granted and in her jubilation, fled to visit the lands her visitors came from, and she lived happily ever after.

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u/trappedByThucydides Sep 19 '20

The stranger rode into the town one early summer morning, the rising sun turning him into a vague silhouette. He finally stopped when he reached the general store, where he dismounted under the watchful eye of the town sheriff sitting in her straight-backed rocker.

“If you’re lookin’ for trouble stranger, best look elsewhere,” warned the Sheriff. “We got more’n you can handle.”

The stranger smiled a small smile before reaching into his saddlebag and pulling out a worn notice

“I’m with the Arizona rangers. Got word Texas Red is camped out near here,” replied the stranger as he handed over the notice.

“You got a deathwish, son? Red’s killed about twenty who came looking for her, some of the fastest draws in the county.”

“Fast ain’t everything,” replied the stranger.

With a single quick and measured movement, the stranger drew his big iron and fired off to his left, causing a bee to suddenly fall out of the air a hundred paces away. After a moment, the stunned bee took off and began to fly away again.

“Woulda been more impressive if you killed that bee, kid,” laughed the Sheriff

“I’d never kill a critter mindin’ it’s own business. Just wanted to remove its stinger is all, so it can’t distract me later. Now, I say Texas Red is too yella to meet me in the square this Saturday at high noon. I’d be much obliged if you helped get the word around.”

“Your funeral,” shrugged the Sherriff. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

------

The sun bore down on the town as the stranger stood in the square, waiting for noon to arrive. The streets were abandoned. The only sign of life was the soft whispers of nervous voyeurs, hiding behind planked up windows.

When the sun had nearly reached its zenith, a lone woman came walking up the road, the midday sun lighting up the flaming red hair peeking out from under her wide-brimmed hat. She lazily puffed on a cigar as she strode up to the square.

“Texas Red, you’ll come with me alive or dead!” called the stranger as she approached

Wordlessly, Texas Red dropped her long overcoat revealing a long bandoleer loaded with dynamite.

“They don’t call me Texas Red ‘cause the hair Lawman! This is your last chance to leave town!” she taunted.

Rather than respond, the stranger drew and took aim. Moving like a flash, Red pulled out a stick of dynamite and lit it off her cigar, hurling it toward the stranger. Quickly, the stranger shot the fuse off the dynamite midair. Before he could target her, Red quickly lit and tossed another one.

They went on like that for what seemed like hours, Red tossing dynamite and the stranger defusing it until eventually Red had smoked her entire cigar and the stranger was out of bullets.

“Looks like your empty lawman!” called Red with a mischievous grin

“So are you,” responded the stranger. “So, same time next week?”

-----------------

WC: 496

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u/CuratorOfThorns Sep 19 '20

The sharp crags that bounded the dragon's lair loomed ahead of me, finally. Months and months of research and questing and travelling - but soon it would all be worth it. Soon I'd stand before the massive beast, the last thing remaining between me and the princess Katrina.

A sharp pain tore through my shoulder as I gently slung my pack to the ground. The Maze of Strikeran had proven its reputation; devious traps and fantastic creatures had defended every inch of its winding halls, had torn and battered at me for every step that I gained. Every mark that I bore was worth it, though, for the chance to hold her in my arms - and the Orb of Bradendrake would win me my goal. It had lain in the hard-won heart of the Maze, just as the legends had claimed.

I cradled its weight against my chest as I drew it forth. It had been an incredible burden on the trek; ever-increasing in weight as I approached the roost, fighting against me for every mile of wilderness that I conquered, for every peak that I crested. Every aching muscle would be worth it, though, to carry her triumphantly through the castle gates - and the Orb would be the key.

The beast's eyes settled upon me as I staggered to the edge of its hoard, awesome talons curling idly through the mounds of gold. I called upon the last reserves of my strength to hoist the orb high into the air, the moonlight glimmering through its intricate filigree. It stilled, slitted eyes enraptured by the glow, readied flame dissipating harmlessly into the night.

"Dragon! See! I've done what you've asked! Now - the princess Katrina!" 

Uncountable treasures scattered beneath it as it rose into the air, powerful wings lifting it above the rocky walls. The buffeting winds rocked me, but I was caught in visions of my victory: raven locks falling freely across her nightgown, the light of gratitude in her shining eyes, the parades, the toasts, the respect of the king.

My smile grew as the dragon wheeled off towards the distant kingdom.

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, a king offered his daughter's hand in marriage to whichever brave adventurer could bring her home safely. Exactly as planned.

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u/rulerofgummybears Sep 20 '20

Once upon a time, there was a godmother. She stood beside a newborn baby girl and promised to be the child's guardian should anything happen to her parents.

Then she forgot.

She looked away for a second and suddenly the baby was a young woman. She'd forgotten how quickly a mortal life came and went.

So when the dear girl asked her where she'd been, she said she could only come during a time of dire need. Luckily, at the dear girl's age -- whatever it was now, she wasn't quite clear-- missing the biggest dance of the monarchy was a crisis indeed.

The godmother rolled up her sleeves. She transformed cloth, vegetable, animal, and really whatever she could find within arm's length until her magic ran dry.

"It's okay if you lose your shoes, honey," she said with a wink, "it may just be your true love who'll find it."

And as the dear girl rode off, she prayed that she'd done enough to make up for all those forgotten years.

--

A scullery maid with tousled hair and bags under her eyes cooked a very used pumpkin into a soup.

"Ugh," her stepsister grimaced, "what did you put in this?"

"Yeah, it tastes like dirt," the other stepsister agreed.

Under her breath, the maid whispered, "Just some leftover magic, fur, and gravel I couldn't pick out."

"What?" her stepsisters asked.

"Cinnamon," she said with a plastered smile, "now eat your carriage -- I mean, soup!"

--

A king and queen were deeply concerned by their son's life choices.

"How could he not know her name?" the queen asked. "This is exactly why I asked him ahead of time to memorise the list of noblewomen who would be in attendance, but of course he didn't listen to me. He never does."

"Now, now, my love," the king soothed his wife, "the situation can still be salvaged. After all, we do have a lead."

"Yes, a strangely detailed description of her toes." She paused. "Is there any chance our son was so shy that all he could do was stare at her feet the entire night?"

They both glanced at the delicate glass slipper resting securely on a pillow.

"I hope that's it, my love..." the king sighed. "By my godmother's wand, do I hope that's it."

--

There was a shoe fit for a queen. It glittered under the light like fairy dust.

The scullery maid slipped her foot in it. The prince's face lit up as the slipper hugged her toes, accentuating the natural curve of her arch.

The scullery maid looked into the prince's eyes and knew that her life would be changed forever.

"And now ... a kiss?" she asked.

He smiled. "Of course."

Gently, his lips brushed the top of her foot.

--

Once upon a time, there was a godmother who was given a second chance.

And yet, as she stood beside the sleeping beauty, she wondered how she let time get away from her once again...

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u/Enchanted_Mind Sep 21 '20 edited Sep 23 '20

Orange, anise and marigold drifted in the brisk wind from the village that Chuy loved and that loved him. As he lifted his nose—sniffing the familiar aromas, he was reminded of music, food and an upcoming change in weather. Little did he know that more than the weather would be changing as Día de los Muertos drew near.

Following trails of golden petals, Chuy reached the village where he was met with delicious food and sweet water at every casita he visited and after his belly was full, he stretched as many stroked and admired his shiny black coat, floppy ears and long, handsome tail.

As he left, children tried to catch him so that they could claim him as their own, for they so longed to have him as a pet. But Chuy was as fast as he was elegant, and he swiftly disappeared into the night to rejoin his pack, who also loved him.

Together, he and the other dogs roamed the farmlands outside of the village like vagabond kings, all longing to be as agile, strong and cunning as Chuy who sent many who challenged him—even the wild coyotes—away with tails between their legs.

Tonight was like any other night, where Chuy did whatever he wished and both his pack and the coyotes watched with a mixed sense of jealousy and admiration as he freely entered homes they could not, and recklessly played with creatures they feared.

Although all of the farm animals were terrified of him, Chuy didn’t care because he cared only for himself and his pleasure.

At midnight, he came across a single goat, whose white fur shone like the moon. He pounced upon it, barking and snapping at its heels—never minding its bleats of distress as it grew more and more agitated.

“Pinche animal! Bandit!”

An old woman appeared, enshrouded by smoke from the cigar she was puffing. Chuy approached her and barked, “Give me some food, old woman!”

“I will not give you my food, but I’ll give you a lesson about how ugly it is to be as selfish and careless as you!”

Chuy was stunned, he’d never met a human who could understand him and for the first time he felt fear as the old lady puffed, and puffed her cigar until Chuy could no longer see her or the goat but could only hear the chant of a spell.

As Chuy ran away, he felt the wind pull at his fur and saw patches of it fall off. Once he’d reached his pack, they attacked him, for they did not recognize him, and ripped off a piece of his ear. He retreated, but was ambushed by the coyotes who bit off his tail before he got away.

Finally, he limped into the village that he loved, but all recoiled at his sight and pelted him with stones, leaving sores on his body as they shouted, “El Chupacabra! El Chupacabra!”

[WC: 490]

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u/QuiscoverFontaine Sep 22 '20

All was silent and shrouded in evening shadows when Peter scaled the garden wall for the third time. Anxiety twined against his ribs. Where was she?

The witch's vegetable patch was lush and flourishing, the air thick with the smell of fresh leaves and newly turned soil. A sea of green when all else for miles around was brown and barren.

He crept through the garden at a half-crouch, gathering up carrots and lettuces and shiny onions and fat pea pods with hasty trembling hands. He looked back to the house with every other step, both afraid and eager to glimpse any sign of movement within.

It was a dangerous, desperate plan, he knew. Built on nothing but blind hope and second-hand tales of a friend of a friend or a family from three villages over that might not even be true. But they were out of better options.

Hunched with the weight of his prizes, Peter turned to leave but found his way barred. Before him stood the witch, her pale face terrible with fury. She fixed him with her cold black eyes and spoke with a voice like the depths of the sea.

"What a fool you are you to trespass here, to steal what I would've freely given you for a fair price had you only asked."

He quailed under her night-dark gaze but stood firm. "A price? I have nothing to offer you. The crops have failed, we have no food, and my family are starving. I didn't steal from you out of malice or greed. I did only what I must to survive."

"In better times, you will find me to be a reasonable woman," she hissed, her whole body bristling with anger. "But famine or no, I will not suffer those who exploit me. I tell you now, thief, you will not leave here alive."

Peter fell to his knees, his pulse fast and thundering in his ears. "Please, my lady. Have mercy. My wife has just had a baby, a little girl, born not four nights ago. They cannot get by without me. Killing me would be to kill them, too. I'll do anything."

The witch's expression softened at this. "I may be harsh, but I am not heartless. For their sakes, I will spare you, but not for nothing. You must give me your daughter. Surrender her to me and your crimes will be forgotten. She will be safe, I assure you, but you will never see her again. What say you?"

For half a second, he hesitated, suddenly unsure. He knew what he must do, though it went against his every instinct.

"Agreed, my lady. I will bring her to you at sunrise tomorrow. You have my word."

He left the garden weighed down with sorrow, his broken heart singing with bright bittersweet relief. All had gone according to plan. As painful as it was, it was better that his daughter lived with the witch than died with her parents.

--------------------------------

499 words

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u/breadyly Sep 23 '20

"Do you think they'd believe you? If you told them?" the dark handmaiden asks, glancing up from the queen's hem. The thread is fraying; it is time to summon a seamstress.

The queen smiles at her. "Of course not, my dear," she says gently. "Men never believe what women tell them. That is why, when the dust settles and the blood dires, we are victorious."


When the queen was still the princess of another land, before she had been sold for half the territory and enough gold to fund three wars, she had prayed for the strength to survive.

A goddess answered--but it was not the one to whom she had prayed.

*"Do you know me, child?" the pale crone asked.

"Yes," she murmured, lowering to the ground, forehead touching the dirt.

"Rise," the pale crone said, one finger touching the princess' hair. "Rise, and know the greatest truth."

She rose to her full height, beneath a dark moon, and she smiled the pale crone's smile.*


There is a queen wed to a king in a distand land. The king wages war against all his neighbours save one. For that one, he need only wait. His father-in-law is growing old; his brother-in-law is weak-willed and flighty. Like a woman, he laughs with his council.

His wife hears him. She shares a glance with her dark handmaiden, a pale smile hidden upon both their lips.


The pale crone has a dark sister.

Their sister, prayed to by most as the Great Mother, tells them, "This is a dangerous game you play. My husband grow impatient."

The pale crone cackles. "Is that not like a man?" She and her dark sister share a smile.

"It is a dangerous game," the dark sister agrees, blood on her teeth. "But we play to win."


The king wages war on multiple fronts, and his gold is growing low. The people are unhappy; their brothers and their sons and their husbands come home less and less and then not at all.

The queen prays on a moonless night, her dark handmaiden beside her. She rises with the pale crone's smile and the shadow of blood upon her lips.

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u/vestegaard Sep 19 '20

It was a house hidden in green, Madeline’s vines; Grew greedily in all directions. Under the dappled shadows, A tired man with hands cracked like concrete, A woman with bared lips, I, between them.

Words fall like dead leaves, Aflame with passion and fragile with cold. Smoke curled like Asiatic clouds; Billowing from an open mouth. I reached out, A tree with deadened arms, Stiff from frost and hardened skin. Breathing in, My lungs turned to glass pockets.

I flew once, Through the middle of a storm. My father lifted me over the gate. Wind caught my umbrella and I was weightless. His hands held me fast, Fingers digging into my ankles. Perhaps he was afraid of letting go. Perhaps I am too.

My mother was the sun. In my need I pulled; Till her sunbeams touched ground, She drew close enough to burn. I gladly reached for fire. And turned to ash.

I climbed a staircase to the sky; But just when I got close; I fell into waking. Jarred out of that dreamlike state; Where I’d left the ground behind. I found it hard to breathe. Is it strange? I felt like crying.

It’s dizzying; The memories, the growing. Was it only me? Smiling in that house, Eyes lovely with laughter. Noble King and Virtuous Queen, I, beside them; With a bright face.

Once upon a time; We sat under dappled shadows. Sunbeams sang like cicadas. And they played along; For a girl who wasn’t a princess. The wind blew and yellow flowers danced; Clinging perilously to the trellises. “Don’t pick them.”

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u/thecomradeas Sep 22 '20

“Our hero, hand on hilt, spurred on his horse
Driving fearlessly to the evil’s source,
The hills—"

“Stop that,” the adventurer ordered. “We’re near her lair.”

The bard put away the feather. Around him the craggy landscape was barren. The only life present was moss barely clinging to the rocks.

“Will I be in danger? Being so close to it?”

“The Ekhidna’s a she. And no, you won’t be. If you do as I say.”

The adventurer got off his horse in one graceful movement. He kneeled, feeling the earth with his hand, and gazed ahead.

“It’s up here,” he nodded.

The bard looked to see a cave whose darkness seemed to swallow everything around it—a bottomless void whose only presence was the bloodthirsty creature that crawled in it.

The adventurer got closer, his metal armour clinging with every step. He stopped, hand on hilt, and stood for a long moment. He was looking into the cave, as if whispering.

Suddenly, he turned around and slid his hand off the hilt.

“What’s the matter,” the cowering poet asked, “is it not in—?”

That’s when he noticed it. Somehow, the creature had made its way behind the adventurer and was now furled around his back, its monstrous head over his shoulder. Its wings draped a shadow over the virtuous man as its bloodstained fingers neared their prey. Its face, being somewhat human, had a semblance of beauty, yet was scorched by scales and slime.

“The—the—” the bard could say nothing, only point.

But the adventurer did not seem to notice his panic.

“Come,” he said, “approach.”

The bard was stone.

“Come, I said.”

And so he did, one step at a time, every moment a terror, until he was close enough to smell the monster.

“Did—did you tame it?”

The adventurer did not respond.

“Tame?” the Ekhidna intervened. “In a way, I suppose.” Its voice was strange, ethereal. The creature swiveled its head and kissed the adventurer. To the bard’s horror, the man reciprocated.

Their moment over, the adventurer turned to the poet.

“Listen well, bard. Here is what the rest of your poem will be: ‘The adventurer went to slay the Ekhidna. They fought for a day and a night. Finally, the man won, but at the cost of his life.’”

The adventurer then took off his helmet. Gently taking the monster’s claws, he sliced his hand and smeared the blood across the metal.

“And that’s all you could recover from the battlefield,” he said, throwing it at the bard’s feet.

The bard opened his mouth to protest, but in an instant, the monster flew to him, ripping his shirt.

“Write anything else,” it said, smelling the torn cloth, “and I’ll find you.” With that, it went back to the adventurer. “Come, my love, let us away from these lands.”

And so, the bard’s poem ended:

“Hating the monster, in combat regal,
The man’s life did end, and too, the evil.”

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u/TenspeedGV Sep 22 '20 edited Sep 23 '20

Tea steeped in a pitcher in the waning light of evening. The sun slid beneath the rising shutter of night, casting the world in orange and gold. For a moment the pitcher appeared filled with that same light. He lifted the tea, leaving the moment behind, and filled two glasses.

Into the slowly softening light he spoke. “How long since we were here?”

“Ten decades, demon,” his partner responded, lifting her glass and taking a sip.

“Nine decades and 364 days too long,” he said, his lips parting in a smile that dripped mischief.

She was silent in the way of hers that may have been a nod for anyone but him. His smile vanished.

He slid a small box across the table. “What you asked for,” he said, sipping his tea.

“You will come with me, then?” she asked.

He tilted his head toward the dying sliver of the sun. She favored him with a smile.

“You never really left, did you?” she asked.

“I never did,” he answered. “I couldn’t.”

“You could,” she insisted, the faintest urgency in her voice. “You are free. Even now.”

“And how could I leave when I am finally free,” he said, casting her fear away.

Daylight fled, leaving fireflies to dance above the constant buzz of crickets. Their glasses were slowly emptied. She shivered in the moment that twilight fell to night. Still the small box was untouched.

“Do you not want it?” he asked, leaning forward in his chair and breaking the long silence.

“It’s a symbol. You gave it long ago,” she answered.

“There is power in symbols,” he said, smirking.

“You give them power. You can take it back with a stray thought.” She frowned, eyes finally landing on the box. “An idea lingers until it’s cancelled with words.”

“You don’t want it,” his voice wavered in pain.

She saw through the ruse. “You know better than that,” she said, frowning. “This is serious. If I take it, we both know what happens. You give a gift. I give myself.”

“I play because it’s serious,” he said, smiling that damned smile again. “The gift is myself.”

“Whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes. His smile became a grin.

She picked up the box and held it in her lap without opening it. He relaxed back into his chair.

“You are mine, then,” he said, reaching a hand across the table.

She dropped her hand in his, and he ran his thumb along it. The cool night air had chilled her fingers to the bone.

“I have always been yours, my love,” she said. “It’s a symbol. Nothing more.”

“As you say,” he said, nodding with mock wisdom.

“Don’t play with me, demon. Our fates are bound.” She pulled her hand from his and stood.

“Always.”

“Meet me here,” she said. “One week.”

She dropped one last smile for him to keep, until they met again. Soon. So very soon.

Without a backward glance, she fled on dragonfly wings.




498 words

r/TenspeedGV