Flash Fiction #568 -- Pixie Myths/1

 

Once upon a time, the magical butterfly people lived at the top of the cherry tree in the Garden of Avalon. Their wings glittered in the night, and the pixies loved to watch the pretty creatures dance in the air around the tree. In the summer, the butterfly people would even drop lush cherries down to those on the ground.
When the cherry tree grew old, the pixies gathered all the seeds to grow an orchard. The butterfly people were so happy that they made a gift of wings to their friends.

And that is why pixies can now fly.

Flash Fiction # 567 -- Chatter

 Being able to talk to animals and have them answer isn't a great joy. This is no Doolittle world, and the animals are rarely polite little Thumper-bunnies or even wise and crafty foxes.

And the constant chatter! By the gods of every world and realm, if they would just shut up for five minutes --

But then, when they do fall silent,  it is the most freaking scary thing you can imagine.  

I stopped in my walk through the woods for a moment. I thought I had either gone deaf or just died. Then I heard the rustle of leaves and the sound of thousands of feet and wings heading south -- straight at me.

Yes, that was scary, too. It got worse when I could hear them whispering.

"Flee, flee, flee!"

The wave of creatures surged over and around where I stood, leaving me untouched, although my hair fluttered with their passing. I still faced the way from which they'd fled, and I could sense something there that made me want to turn and fly with the birds.

"What is it?" I asked aloud.

"Flee, flee, flee!"

And then they were all gone. I had never been alone with my thoughts before, and even they seemed to be trying to flee my brain.

I wanted to run. I am a bard, not a warrior like my four brothers. They went off on expeditions searching for gold and honor. I sang tales about them. And with that thought firmly placed in my mind, I turned my back on the trouble and prepared to flee as well.

Then I heard something odd.

"Ow. Stupid humans. Ow!"

The ground began to tremble first, and then the trees shuddered. The sounds came from everywhere, and a huge shadow fell over me. I held my breath and beheld --

A hopping dragon.

"Stupid - ow -- bigoted -- OW! -- humans!"

The giant red dragon had a glowing sword stuck in his foot. He stopped at least a dozen yards from me and leaned forward to pull the sword out with his teeth. Something flashed; he yelped and pulled back, and fell over.

"OW!"

Somewhere far away, my brain screamed, FLEE, FLEE, FLEE! I took a step forward instead. The dragon stumbled to his feet, hissed in pain, and leaned down to look me in the face.

"I am not in the mood to discuss anything with a human."

"I can see that. I can remove the sword, though.

Dark eyes blinked and narrowed. "Why would you do that?"

"Because the sword belongs to Nestor, one of my brothers. I am a bard. They don't think much of me. Imagine his surprise when I gave it back."

"I would like to give it back right through his foot." The dragon winced. "What if I just kill you once you remove it?"

"I don't think you would repay me that way. Besides, I'll have the sword."

The dragon gave in to that logic, and I wasted no time. Nestor couldn't be far away, and I wanted to make a show of giving it back before a crowd. I might even write a pithy little ballad to sing.   My mind was on the opening line when I pulled the sword up.

I should have warned the dragon first. He didn't realize I knew how to grab just below the pommel and press the ruby to stop the magic, so all I had to do was pull it out. He yelped and kicked. I stumbled backward, fell to the ground, and nearly cut off my own leg.

No one had told me that the sword talked.

"That was a swift one, Target," he said, using the nickname my brothers had given me. He knew me through Nestor. "Going to take out a dandelion or two while we are down here?"

"What the hell? Why didn't anyone say you could talk?" I demanded.

"Only you can hear him," the dragon said. "Thanks for the help. Good luck."

And with that, the dragon sprinted away.

I spent days looking for Nestor. I tried to bury the sword. I threw it into a fast-running river. Both times it was back at my side within half a mile. It had its own belt hook but seemed to find joy in hitting me repeatedly on the right shin.  

I looked for wise women and mages -- but they all disappeared when I got close.

I was stuck with him.

"I am not going to address you as Your Radiance, King of all Swords, every time I talk to you!"
"Then don't talk to me."
"Then you stop talking to me!"
"You first."
"You stop -- oh, for the love of the gods, just be quiet for a little while today."
"Sure thing."  We made it an entire four hundred steps this time. "I want an adventure. Let's go fight orcs. I always wanted to fight orcs."

"Another thing we don't have in common."

"Nestor always said you were a coward."

"No, he didn't. He thought I was the smartest one of the brothers."

I caught him on that one, even though I wasn't sure I was right. I learned that Radiance had two limitations. While he could tell me something false, he had to admit to it if I countered with the truth. Second, he could talk in my head but couldn't hear my thoughts unless I addressed him. Mostly I spoke aloud.

"We aren't going after orcs. We're going to Crossroads City, and I will find someone, human or fae, who can take you and give you the future you want. It is not going to be me, Radiance."

"Hmm. Well."  

So I at least had his attention. Turned out that he didn't mind listening to the birds once he got used to it, either.  

It wasn't so bad.

I was still going to be rid of him. I just hoped we didn't run into any orcs first.

Flash Fiction # 566 -- Guild of the Solar Queen

 

 

 

 

The members of the guild took the news in silence. That was not to say they were happy -- just not surprised. The Guild of the Solstice Queen had survived when all the other guilds of even middling power had been disbanded over the last four years. The GSQ, one hundred strong, had remained quiet within their temple. Their magic was powerful but rarely used. The Dark King had no reason to move against them except that he craved power and mistrusted anyone with gifts he could not take for himself.

Priestess Trena looked over the room, filled with followers, true believers, and acolytes.

"The Dark King commands that we lay down our powers and surrender to the forces waiting at the mountain's base."

Again no surprise, but hooded heads turned toward the uneasy messenger and his two guards. What the guards thought didn't matter -- they wore weapons into the sanctuary despite warnings from Priestess Trena. Their lives were now in the hands of the goddess.

The messenger, though, had set aside his single long-bladed knife and told her the word of his master with no show of malice. He did show both humility and worry, as well. So much so that he drew the sneers of his companions.

Trena marked the boy -- he couldn't be more than twenty -- not as a believer, but as one of those few people who had no trouble accepting matters outside his realm of understanding. Such people with open minds were growing rare, as seen in this latest madness.

The Dark King should have known better.

"We will not, of course, surrender. You two," she indicated the guards, "may go tell your commander what I have said. Messenger, I wish for you to stay a while longer so that I may make a proper reply to him."

The guards didn't even protest losing their charge and walked away with disdain as one of the others led them out of the temple and back into the meadow beyond. By then, Trena and the messenger had traversed the temple and started up the wide stairs to the sanctuary. The boy gave a nervous glance up at it.

"We do not sacrifice anything but leaves and roots to help renew the land,"  Trena told him at the third glance. "Do you believe me?"

"Yes."

"What is your name?"

"Borian," he replied with a bow.

"I think a 'prince' should be attached to that name."

"My father ruled a minor kingdom, lost to the Dark King the year I was born. 'Prince' means nothing in such a case. They have orders to attack, Priestess. If there are preparations to make --"

"Already done. We prepared the moment your companions set foot on the sacred mountain. They are fools, you know."

"Fools for many reasons," he muttered but then seemed to remember himself and stood straighter. "If you have a message --"

"You will have it soon enough," Trena replied. "Look there. The soldiers were already at the edge of the forest. It didn't matter what answer I gave. He only sent you and the guards because he wanted to know what you saw inside the temple. We are legends, you know."

"Legend and myth," he agreed. He didn't seem to be in a hurry. The others were no doubt bores. "That is General Mupril and his private guards. He's only that brave if there isn't another force -- what is happening?"

He sounded worried for the first time and with cause. The general and his hundred men had gotten a third of the way through the meadow -- and then stopped with cries of surprise. None of them could move, nor could the soldiers follow after them. Their bodies twisted, grew, and their screams of terror changed to the sound of branches shifting in the wind.

Where the army had been moving, an array of trees now stood, their branches moving frantically for another moment, and then even that sound fell to silence. Birds had taken to the air from other trees but settled now even among the new growth.

The boy swayed and shivered when she took hold of his arm, but he didn't try to pull away. He looked at her and then back to the trees.

"A dozen or so of the soldiers have escaped the spell. They are already running for the capital and will arrive days ahead of you so that the Dark King will have enough time to consider the situation. This --" she pulled a sealed message from her robe and put it into his shaking hands -- "is an explanation of what happened and why he does not wish to continue the path he has taken. This --" she pulled out a chain and amulet "-- is protection for you. Having survived this confrontation will not bring you any friends."

He still looked pale but gave a nod of agreement. Not much later, she watched him walk out past the trees, unsteady still but unafraid.

Over the next decade, the forest became a place of quiet refuge for humans and the animals that had come to take their positions here. The spirits trapped in the trees had learned the peace of acceptance in a world where they could make no difference. When the time came, only five chose to go back among the humans, living as mystics and traveling far. None of them picked up weapons again.

The Dark King did not do so well. He turned his aggression to other lands, but none of the wars went well for him. Even before he died, his empire had started to crumble. However, his successor -- who won the throne by proclamation of the people, not by war -- was far better at making alliances and choosing good ministers to help with the work. He had even chosen two of her forest mystics to help him.

King Borian would reign long and well.

And he still had her protection.




 

Flash Fiction #565 -- Neko/10 (end)

 

Of course, the chain caught on something.

They both worked their way down closer to the water, although neither was interested in getting wet. Still, they tried to work the chain free. It was obvious neither trusted the apparent lack of magic in the area.

Dorian joined them.

"Just curious what is going on," Dorian said. "Since you two aren't sending up reports. Oh, that must be it."

"Caught on the skeleton," Colin grumbled. "I can --"

What he could do, apparently, was fall into the water, where the skeleton suddenly came to life and grabbed him.

Neko through himself into the water, grabbed the bone creature by the shoulder, and shook it until it released Colin and went for him. By then, Dorian was pulling both cat and fae upward.

Neko snagged the chain. He was not coming back for the stone.

The skeleton followed them. Dorian used his magic to bring all three up as quickly as possible, but the skeleton kept close by, nipping at all of them, especially when they reached the top. The head snaked up over the edge --

That was a mistake. The ogre grabbed it by the neck and threw it across the well and to the wall. It broke into thousands of pieces. Then he stomped on them.

"Well," Colin said as Dorian used magic to heal his wounded shoulder. "Thank you, Neko.  That was brave of you to take on that creature. Now we'll just wait until Dorian, and I regain some magic, and then we'll try again --"

Neko gave the chain one more quick yank. The end was still wrapped around the stone, and it flew up over the edge and landed at the ogre's feet. He grabbed it up, chain and all, and hurried away with cries of delight.

"Well done, Neko!" Colin said. He didn't attempt to get up, and Neko thought the floor beside him looked perfectly fine for sleeping...

Later, Colin carried Neko back to the shop. The fae had already fixed the door and re-shelved many books. Neko felt a little flutter of fear as they went through the doorway, but he didn't feel trapped. He relaxed again as Colin put him on the counter and turned to Darion.

"Now what?" Colin asked. He sounded weary.

"I'll go over the veil and report the situation. The ogres are happily heading home, but I am certain they were not alone in coming through. So, I'll be back around soon. You'll be here?"

"Oh yes," Colin said and gave a weary nod. Neko felt an unexpected surge of pleasure. "I like bookstores, and this seems like a good place to settle for a while. Emerald Clan wants more contact with humans again, anyway. That was one of the reasons I came here. That and Neko's hidden stash of magic books. They should be interesting reading and better studied here rather than boxed up and moved."

"Good points, all of them," Darion agreed. "Besides, there is a talking cat. Just keep in mind the legend."

"Oh, I do," Colin agreed as Darion and the other fae left.

Neko turned to him. "Legend?"

"Something about a cat someday ruling the fae lands," he said with a wave. "Fae legends are full of stuff like that."

Neko nodded in agreement. He'd read a lot of fae material down through the ages. Most of it was filled with fanciful delusions.

Still, it was something to consider.

Life changed over the next few weeks. They took walks. They discussed humans. The shop did better business, and Neko decided that came from Fae charm, not Fae magic. Neko was better at computer work than Colin, and together they managed to track more magical books. They both found them intriguing. There were some fascinating pieces on human magic. They often discussed them on their nightly walks around town.

It was a whole new world for Neko.

Almost a year passed before they heard from the ogres that Maude had escaped again. Darion brought them the news. The fae were disgusted, but Neko found himself shrugging it off. He'd had one go at her and didn't have that fire of revenge anymore -- at least as long as she kept her distance.

"She would be a fool to come here, especially since we no longer have her book," Neko pointed out. "Just make certain she doesn't get her hands on it. Does she have magic again, even if she can't clearly say the words? Colin and I found reference to movement magic -- harder to do, but effective."

"Humans are too inventive," Darion decided. "Can you send me the info? I have to go guard the book."

"I'll get what I can," Colin promised. "Good luck."

They closed early that night and visited their friends in the attic. It was one of Neko's favorite times of the day.  

The pixies hadn't wanted to return to the fae lands, a place they didn't remember. They had spent years with Maude and centuries trapped in a book. The fae lands, they said (usually all of them at once), were too big and scary. They liked the attic. Colin made certain no one could see them from outside. They made their own world there, complete with a miniature forest of pines that reached all the way to Colin's waist and was filled with tiny jewel-like birds. Nestled in a mossy green area, they'd built a village of stones collected in the neighborhood. A few more pixies found their way to the building. At night they played sweet music. It was a magical place.

After the news about Maude, Neko spent nights on the stairs and guarded. He expected Maude because she had a temper and a long memory of wrongs.

So he wasn't surprised when she showed up, sneaking up the stairs ... until he tripped her like any self-respecting cat would do. She fell and broke her neck, and that was the last of Maude.

And Neko lived happily ever after.