A Stray

Curses are never easy to bear.

I hope you know that.

Continue reading “A Stray”

Wolf Hound

Silently, I watched my father’s hound rush off. Bouncing through the grass to get the goose. Giddy. Proud to make his master happy.

“Why don’t you make yourself useful and collect the geese Holt?” my brother asked, not an ounce of venom in his tone. “You’d be faster than Finn.”

My dad hit him lightly. Smacking him gently with the butt of his rifle as the words floated and sank, digging into the earth.

“Don’t say things like that to your brother. He’s a werewolf, not a dog. It’s a legitimate condition,” Dad snarled.

My brother didn’t mean anything by it. Not at all. It was a suggestion made by a young mind. Someone who doesn’t quite understand.

But…

Still.

I think about it all the time. Continue reading “Wolf Hound”

Flooding Lions

If you were in an ocean, a fish would go unnoticed, yes? They’re fairly common there, don’t you think? If a fish were to jump in the ocean, it wouldn’t be strange for the other fish. It’d be relatively common place, no?

That’s what I think of—what comes to mind—when I think of his arrival. The tall man, with the black bow and piercing arrows, with the gnarled sword and jagged dagger.

The tall man with the black beard, the monster’s cloak.

The tall man astride the most beautiful beast I’d seen.

Astride the white lion. Continue reading “Flooding Lions”

Oak Speaks

They say he died in the middle of that small, small pond. Defending a human child from some wild beasts. They say he died valiantly against a manticore—or maybe it was a drakken. They say that, when he died here, the pond grew. Ten feet longer, eons deeper. A small island sprouted in the midst of the pond, right in the center. Right where he took his last breath. A small island formed, and then, atop that small island, an oak tree grew. Tall and grizzled looking. Branches reaching outward, arms open, as if ready to embrace any who tread upon that small island.

Only…

That’s not true, is it?

That small island was not meant for just anyone.

No.

It was meant for only a special someone.

Only meant for one.

One who seeks. Continue reading “Oak Speaks”

Gryphon’s Disciple

“That’s not my name.”

Those were the first words you said to me.

To me.

The Mighty Gryphon. A beast like no other. Lord of Magic, Watcher of the Mountains. Harbinger of Fall and Beast of the Rising Tide. Timeless Warrior. Champion of Valken. Raiser of Scourge.

I gave you a name.

And you—a tiny, puny human without a single light in your sky— you tell me:

“That’s not my name.”

Forgive me for laughing, but, I know.

This is going to be one long, hard task. Continue reading “Gryphon’s Disciple”

Kindly Magic: Part II

Magic is, inherently, selfish.

Taking the world and twisting it to make something of your own—twisting reality to make a thing you find more appealing—that is the nature of magic. The nature of fiends.

The nature of faeries.

Selfish.

And what an overwhelming, overpowering, magic it is.

That was what he’d told me. How he’d explained himself. And I told him something else. Something different.

Faeries are not the only ones with magic.
Continue reading “Kindly Magic: Part II”

Weak Prince

I was a princess betrothed to a prince.

A prince with a kingdom. A prince with power. A prince with money, and fame, and people who adored him. I was betrothed to a prince who was foolish. A prince who, in the span of just a year, lost everything his kingdom had ever built.

I was betrothed to a prince who lost everything.

And when he did, he went missing. Gone. Not a single trace of him to be found. I was betrothed to a missing prince who left only a note with one word.

“Sorry.”

I was betrothed to a prince. A prince who I’d known for as long as I can remember. A prince with a kind heart and a clear voice. A prince who wouldn’t dare fight to keep others from their freedom.

I was betrothed to a prince.

And I will be again. Continue reading “Weak Prince”

I Lived

The pain was pretty bad.

No.

It was horrible. Terrible.

Excruciating.

Like sucking shards of glass into my veins. Like my whole body was floating in lava. Like someone was replacing my air with rubbing alcohol.

It was the worst thing I’ve ever experienced.

And still.

It wasn’t over. Continue reading “I Lived”

Swept Away

I didn’t trust it at first.

Why would I? It seems rather strange, doesn’t it? For an average woman to be invited down there. Into the ocean.

By the king of the sea, no less.

Yeah, definitely strange.

It took me weeks to finally agree. Weeks.

When I finally did, he looked… happy. Glad. Not like someone who had something up their sleeve, but someone who wanted to share something important with someone else. Like someone who was getting ready to give someone a gift.

Granted, that could mean nothing.

The Sea King was a mythical man. A man that was not quite a man. For all I knew, that was how sea kings looked when they were readying to drown someone.

But still.

I didn’t think that’s where he was taking me.

A watery grave didn’t seem too exciting to either of us.  Continue reading “Swept Away”

Scar Marks

Pantings are so easily accepted. The marring of canvas so readily displayed as art. Reds and blues and purples and blacks. Hundreds of colors, mimicking life. All of it considered a masterpiece.

Why is the scarring of a canvas so readily accept, yet we reject our owns scars as art? Continue reading “Scar Marks”